---

Leaving the Winecup Hold, Terry was relieved to learn from Amaterasu and the UN representatives that they didn’t need to assassinate their targets. Still, despite the fact, the thought of having Azucena and Lucky Chloe as their primary targets continued to weigh him down. He thought he could’ve dealt with actual menaces to society like Bryan and Sergei, but instead, it was the clueless participants of the G-Corp’s sportswashing practices that he and his crew had to deal with. It seemed likely that Chevalier knew that those poor ladies weren’t much of a threat when compared to Kazuya’s actual stooges, but were they really that weak?

Not sure about Chloe, but from all Terry knew, Azucena was Peru’s best. She was an undisputed MMA champion at one point (and, perhaps, one of the many reasons why G-Corp took interest in her in the first place). The renowned Coffee Queen was far from being a weakling, but when it came to facing himself and his crew? He wasn’t too sure. He’d never fought her before, but he would’ve liked to make an educated guess that Azucena was, at the very least, competent enough to keep up with a fighter of his caliber.

The broad Urban Square immediately came to view, as the king of fighters and other Seekers designated for Team B strode into the heart of Esaka’s High Tier. The High Tier was where Terry was meant to reside—where the place that had long rejected him stood and jammed between other, bigger top tier dojos, waiting for the day when they elevated past the fourth wheel status. When compared to Esaka’s Low and even Mid Tier, the difference was day and night. Esaka’s High Tier was cleaner and crowder, perhaps far more vibrant and futuristic. It was like a look into Japan’s future—of what the country might turn into in the next ten or so years.

There, at the Urban Square, the sight of skyscrapers welcomed their arrivals, followed by gigantic electronic billboards endorsing various events, brands, and even highlights of today’s tournament matches. Surely, one of the showcased advertisements included the promotion for Azucena’s coffee brand, Azucena Blend. There, her bright face occupied half of the screen, as if announcing her presence. Just a few feet from Terry and his fellow Seekers stood a redheaded woman in a silver medieval armor. She was Hildegard, the person whom Chevalier told them to find. She seemed quite out of place when compared to other residents, though he refused to be surprised. Not when there was a team of samurai annually competing in his tournament. Friendly as always, Terry gave the German swordwielder a smile and a big wave, the pet monkey on his shoulder mimicking his gesture.

“Yo, sup?” he loudly greeted, then once close, offered Hildegard a handshake. “Nice meetin’ ya, lady. The name’s Terry. Terry Bogard. Chev told us to find you.”

Sure enough, the swordwielder went straight to the business shortly after, informing that Azucena was nearby, managing a publicity event where she openly challenged nearby paid fighters to a bout. While Terry didn’t want to hurt her, the prospect of challenging an erstwhile MMA champion seemed to be tempting him. Not only was he in a better mood to fight after he was friendhearted, he found that her fighting style might be comparable to his, considering he, too, mastered various martial arts disciplines. But then came the part where Hildegard told them to remain discreet. How were they supposed to remain discreet when the only way to approach their target was by joining a public event? Harry’s notion seemed to involve one of them participating in the event, as well, and while it was by no means discreet, Terry seemed to entertain it. Though, there was only one problem if Harry was the one challenging Azucena…

“Aww, sorry, Harry, but you don’t look so well yourself. You sure you’re gonna be okay with that, buddy?” Terry asked, his concerned gaze gesturing at Harry’s battered state. He, too, was bruised after his own duels, though not as badly as some Seekers were since he only competed in two matches. “I mean, it doesn’t look like you’re in full health after that brutal beat down against Sasquatch. I think I could be the one dealing with Azucena if you guys wanna. I’m a local, after all, and everybody in this city knows that I love to compete in street fights in my free time. It ain’t gonna look too sussy if I’m the one taking up her challenge, don’t you guys think? But then again, I don’t mind taking care of those big ass clankers, either.”

Then, a shrug. Whatever it was that his crew had in mind, Terry would just rather follow along, as long as their mission could be accomplished. More importantly, as long as they only used Azucena as a bait, instead of assassinating her. Still, given his mixed feelings in regards to beating the Coffee Queen senselessly, he didn’t mind being assigned for something else, either way.

“Actually, I have an idea in mind, too,” Terry claimed, taking a more serious tone as he tipped and readjusted his cap. “You told us to keep the whole act discreet, right, Hildegard? So, I’ve been thinking, why don’t we just pretend to act like some clueless spectators watching the entirety of the event from the sidelines? Y’know, just blending in with the crowd and all that? Then, after the event is over, when the crowd resolves and the shellheads lower their guards, that’s when we launch into action.” With hopeful eyes, he looked at each and every individual nearby, gauging their reactions. He wasn’t sure if this was a decent plan, either, but so far, it was the best he could come up with when it came to tackling their target discreetly. “But anyway, what do y’all say? I’m sure there has to be a better way we can approach this, right?”

In the meantime, Terry would just attempt to withstand the scent of the large smoke ring coming out of Harry’s cigar, trying as best as he could not to flinch. The sight was even funnier to look at since he stood next to the chubby detective, the smoke ring trying to circle the blonde’s face before its eventual dissipation. He could feel his face flushing, his allergy slowly kicking in. If only he could tell them that he was allergic to cigars, but he couldn’t risk looking ridiculous while telling so. Not when he was built like a brick shithouse.

Oh, God, please help me…

FIN.

For whatever reason, it took longer than Sandalphon expected for her to run out of steam and graciously withdraw from the snowball fights. Maybe Ace’s infectious positivity buoyed her up, or Tenna knew exactly how to make sure everyone had a great time, or the smiles and laughs of the playful children filled her soul with joyful energy. Technically speaking, the archangel had never experienced a youth of her own, but through these youngsters she managed to vicariously experience a little youthful wonderment. All good things had to come to an end, though, especially physical activities. When Sandalphon finally returned to the village’s workshop lodge, her extremities were numb from cold exposure despite her boots and gloves. It seemed like staying inside the workshop’s warm interior and finding some less exhausting way to make herself useful would be a smart move.

Naturally, the workshop was abuzz with activity as artisans toiled away in every room, be they cooks, brewmasters, toymakers, or clothiers. By now, only a few hours remained before the festivities officially began, so while a great deal of work had been done already, work on the remainder had reached a fever pitch. It was a bit overwhelming in fact, even for Sandalphon, so rather than try and insert herself anywhere else, she kept an eye out for any fellow Seekers whose endeavors might benefit from her help.

What she didn’t expect was that Sectonia would be one of the Seekers to help with presents. Although Sectonia was more interested in getting everything done than anything, and this was one of the few remaining jobs that could invoke some beauty once it was complete, she’d leave the other jobs for the other Seekers. ”Sandalphon,” Sectonia said courteously, overlooking the busy workshop.

”With all the hands at work here, what help would only a few extra be?” Sectonia said, rubbing her chin as she overlooked the busy workers, wondering just how much of an effect the Seekers could even have here. Sectonia’s Antlers could be a sizable increase to the workforce, but that would be about it.

Sandalphon met her gaze. “Even so, I’d like to be of whatever assistance I can.”

As the two began to get into the gift wrapping, a notable blue ball rolled onto the scene, somehow managing to keep a santa hat perched on their head as they bumped into Sandalphon’s leg. The ball, specifically Spheal, looked up at the angel and let out a happy “Sphea!” before rolling away to continue its exploration, just as Mokou herself walked into the workshop, already carrying a few fully wrapped presents, “Oh. You two are here. Looks like the whole festival is almost ready, just gotta handle the rest of these” she states, placing the gifts on a nearby table, “Just running some gifts around. Best to keep them all in one place so they don’t get misplaced.”

For a brief moment, the archangel’s pupils became delighted shining stars as she regarded the rotund, blissful creature at her feet. By the time she turned her attention to Mokou, though, they were back to normal. When the Phoenix mentioned her current task, Sandalphon glanced at the nearby table, laden with rolls of colorful wrapping paper, tape, scissors, labels, and bows. “I can help with that,” she ventured.

No sooner had Sandalphon seated herself at an empty spot at the table than her task began. She could eyeball gift dimensions and cut the perfect amount of wrapping paper with uncanny accuracy, and her long, delicate fingers moved with mechanical efficiency and precision, quickly and neatly enshrouding each item in paper. Once a gift was wrapped, a bow of a suitable color could be attached, and then the label with the intended recipient according to a ledger passed around by the workers. Sandalphon, naturally, memorized the list of gifts and recipients so she wouldn’t need to request the ledger again. This activity was just complicated enough to keep her mentally occupied without being difficult, although not so occupied that she couldn’t converse with the others. After a few moments, she asked, “Having a good time so far? This is quite the departure from our usual experience on the Midnight Walk.”

Sectonia, finding the process of wrapping gifts herself a bit too… mundane and simple, had summoned her full set of Antlers to help wrap gifts, bolstering the gift wrapping forces by 14 with them alone. After all, it was a queen’s job to delegate things that others could do and just observe, but much like one would expect from the beauty obsessed bee her summons worked to make perfectly wrapped gifts that had nary a flaw.

Since she could delegate, Sectonia was up for chatting as well. Once everything was working smoothly, she replied to Sandalphon’s question. ”A bit too much manual labor for my liking, but I was not expecting to celebrate Christmas on our little adventure here. Being the one to choose outfits and decorate the place has been fun, even if I hear the occasional comment of there being too many hearts or stars for Christmas when it comes to decorations.” By occasionally, she really meant 1 from one of the locals said under their breath, but when chatting gossip and other such things it was customary to embellish a bit.

”I wonder how a few of the other, less… festive members of our team are handling it. It seems like Ganondorf and Ramattra haven’t even heard of the holiday from their expressions. A few others haven’t as well, but those two feel like it might affect them more than say, Edward who is very matter of fact about things.” Sectonia said, starting a topic up of how the less good aligned seekers might see the holiday. While Sectonia wasn’t on the good spectrum either, she didn’t scoff at such a big holiday that tended to radiate beautiful light with many ways to design and make things gorgeous.

Sandalphon considered the fact that the wasp queen shared. “This holiday does not exist in my world to my knowledge, but superficially it has a great deal in common with Dragonyule, a winter festival where gift-giving and even red coats are commonplace.” She tilted her head slightly as she continued to work. “Now that I think about it, the commonalities are too conspicuous to overlook. I cannot help but wonder if there is some sort of connective tissue there.” Having not seen Ramattra or Ganondorf herself, she couldn’t vouch for either of their opinions, but hopefully this would be a chance for everyone to de-stress a little. Too much cortisol would only hinder the Seekers’ mission once they ultimately reached Moon Mountain.

”Perhaps it is just an underlying pin of reality.” Sectonia said, shrugging.

Seeing as this was a gossip session, Sectonia offered a bit of her own. ”I wonder, what do you two know of strong rituals or objects of power? The locals are very convinced that preparing for this holiday will clear the blizzard that freezes even ice. Besides this place, I feel I’ve found a few in this world already. One source of great divine power was from one of the Guardians sure, but another was from some land of candy. Which you wouldn’t expect an artifact of such profound darkness and power to be frozen in caramel. So if you ever wonder why I look in the strangest of places, from experience I've found that unassuming places can still hold things of great power in this world.” Secontia said, mentioning her Chaos Heart powers. Even she knew there was more to be tapped into, somehow, even as she had already tapped into its power twice.

That was a broad question, so despite her wealth of knowledge Sandalphon found it somewhat difficult to come up with a suitable answer. After a few moments of fastidious measurement and snipping, though, she came up with her approach. “Most of the rituals I’m familiar with are for the suppression and banishment of demons,” she explained, thinking back to her time with the Apostles. “As for objects of power, there are many relics prized by the Ilian Church, but in all of Grastaea there are few objects more precious than Pactstones. The embodiment of trust and unity between humans and dragons. Pure, crystalized magic.”

“I’ve got a good grasp on rituals myself, though I didn’t bother checking out the blizzard. Admittedly, I was more interested in seeing if this festival could do the job of clearing it” Mokou comments as she finishes wrapping another gift and places it on a quickly growing pile next to her, “Not confident enough to say what that blizzard is sourced from though. I’d wager a guess that it’s from an object inside that’s fueling its own power. If the festival doesn’t end up working, I’ll just burn my way through it.”

”Or some creature. It could be either.” Sectonia said. ”As for relics of popstar, to be honest, there are far too many. I suppose the most well known is the Star Rod which can let one damage even invincible darkness, but I am sure many others exist with how many stories there are of the hero of the lower world saving popstar.” Sectonia said. ”If you were confronted with a powerful relic that would enhance your powers without corrupting you, no matter its source of power, would you take it? Or do you have limits on what types of power you’d stay away from?” Sectonia asked, stirring a bit more chatter on the subject. ”For me, as long as it is elegant and does not have too much of a downside I am not picky. Light or dark, I will use both.”

A shadow of an amused smile passed over Sandalphon’s face as her pupils became inverted triangles. “I’ve heard it said that all power corrupts, you know.” She paused in her wrapping, holding a fancy silver bow up to the light to see how it sparkled and glimmered. “I would think myself…highly selective. Even for angels, there are powers that should not be trifled with. Especially for angels, in fact.”

She set the bow aside and selected a forest green one to attach to the gift she was wrapping. This one seemed to be addressed to Ramattra, so she could not help but take note of its contents, which intrigued her. “Regardless. Power isn’t everything. In my world, there are plenty of dragons, demons, and extradimensional entities with unbelievable power. Yet time and time again, heroes have triumphed over them all. In the wake of such events, I can only imagine that these heroes say such things as…’the strongest power of all is the bonds we’ve forged between us’.”

”That is easily explained, their combined power surpassed that individual’s power.” Sectonia said, pointing at her Antlers working in groups to get presents done, showing teamwork being done to get a task complete. ”Those with a strong unified vision can do much more than anything they can do alone. But it doesn’t hurt to take power others waste either.”

“Certainly true. Though some powers are better left alone” Mokou says with a sigh, “But trust is certainly a strength on its own. Admittedly, back in my world disputes were regularly handled in one on one affairs, so you didn’t get much in terms of ‘working together’.”

The three continued to chat as they worked at their task. While most of the topics stayed fairly surface-level thanks to their differences in perspective and/or social ability, and they sometimes lapsed into comfortable silence, the trio also touched upon somewhat deeper topics here and there. In the end, they managed to feel a little less like coworkers or allies of convenience, and more like comrades. All the while, anticipation for the coming festivities slowly built. The hours went by quickly, and at their end Sectonia, Mokou and Sandalphon had accumulated a pile of presents that the Antlers could then haul out to deposit under the village’s Christmas tree.

Amaterasu, too, was glad that they had plans other than assasination. The divine wolf might have been ready to rip child kidnapping complicit town guard apart only two days ago, but that was before she remembered who she truly was, and this version of her wasn’t exactly eager to harm mortals like that.

Still, there was a connection between that desire and the hesitancy she’d had in her second bout to go all out against a tournament opponent, and she thought, hoped, that she could work out how to walk that line with a bit of practice gained here. The coffee magnate was somewhat deserving of divine judgment after all, Aaterasu just had to learn how to hand it out in a controlled manner.

The two Gigas bodyguards were a whole other matter, but she’d work out what their deal was by watching and waiting. Were they victims of the organisation's experiments, or willing beneficiaries of them? Right now she could not tell, but she hoped she’d be able to sniff out the truth before things came to blows.

Waiting was, overall, going to be her role here till things went off the rails. She wasn’t exactly able to get involved in the strategy talk. If she were to offer her opinion, however, she’d be all for Terry going up there right now and giving the coffee merchant a right good kicking, while being explicit that he was doing it because of her business’ association with G-Corp.

Sending a message needed people to receive it after all, because they wanted it to be known that associating with G-Corp was now bad for business.

That plan sort of required their local fighter to be on top of his game, which Harry’s cigar smoking wasn’t helping with it seemed. Sharp eyes and sensitive hearing were able to pick up on some kind of unease with the smoke that others might not manage.

She certainly didn’t like the habit either as it was playing hell with her sensitive nose. As such, when the detective next blew a ring of smoke, the Amaterasu swirled her divine brush and kicked up a brief wind that blew it right back into his face, as well as blowing out the flame smoldering at the end.

A little bit of karma never hurt anyone

Still, she wasn’t all stick, and so as a carrot also offered the detective a Pickled Turtle Neck from her stores to give him something to replace the cigar with, mouth occupation wise. He had missed lunch after all, and though it was an odd form of food, and smelled rather bitter, it was chock full of nutrients, and would give him a minute long stamina recharge boost to boot.

Following the snowball fights (both the first that had, well, snowballed into something more involved, and the second which involved a much more casual battle of Seekers and locals trading cold projectiles with each other under Tenna's expert eye), Ace, Sandalphon, and Tenna needed to wind down. Of course they had different ways and definitions of winding down, so when they split up it wasn't too surprising to see them jump right into the next events, though at least these were less physically intense.

Ace returned to the central workshop. He might have gotten distracted before (twice), but this time he was determined to look into the actual work shop section. It wasn't hard to find, and as he took a good look around the room, he noted that the whole thing was basically dedicated to one thing at the moment: the creation of knick knacks and toys. There were sewing stations for stuffed animals, wood working stations for simple figures, metal working stations for more advanced casting of miniature vehicles and the like, and all sorts of other things to be found that were currently made for toy making. There were also a couple of small holiday golems which floated around the room, one cleaning up to ensure every station was clear and safe to use while the other slowly transported a few finished products down to the gift wrapping area elsewhere.

He also wasn't shocked to see that he was not the only Seeker present there. Within, he found Edward, leaning back on a chair and with his feet up on the surface of an elven workbench. Tiny crystal flakes glittered on the surface, scattered around both the man’s boots and a kettle from which the town decorator had poured himself the cup of hot cocoa.

Upon seeing Ace he set down the cup, removed his boots from the bench and called over ”Ah, Ace. Good to see you!” before gesturing at the kettle and enquiring ”Care for a cup?”

"Absolutely," the hunter said as he made his way over.

The temperature change from outdoors to in had made an almost pleasant sting spread across his skin, but it all concentrated in his hands when he took both a seat and the mug Edward offered him. The sweet, warm drink was nice, but it also didn't last long. Ace poured another cup.

"I never would have expected that we'd end up in a place like this. It's fun, right?" the Cadet said. "I've been wanting to check out the workshop since we got here but there's so much stuff to do!"

Edward shrugged non-committily before replying that ”It’s been enjoyable to use my talent for something other than destruction, I suppose, and I think the results shine for themselves” before vaguely gesturing out the window with his cup.

Ace followed the gesture with his eyes, then squinted for a moment at the lights and snow outside in thought until he realized what exactly Edward meant. "Oh, all the new decorations! That was you guys, huh? It looks good!"

The results of their decorating looked closer to the winter festivals that Ace was more familiar with, so maybe he was a little biased, but it really did look nice. He looked back at the dreadnought with a smile on his face.

"Did you come here to take a crack at making toys after you finished? I've been thinking maybe if we help out with that, they wouldn't mind if we tried making some stuff we need for the stagecoach too. Like..." he glanced around the area, pointing out a mold for casting little trains, complete with functional wheels. "...if we can scale up something like this and replace the missing wheels..."

He gave a half shrug. They could at least try it, or something else to strengthen the coach, as they still had a ways to go until Moon Mountain; and the rest of the journey was guaranteed to be harder than today's section.

Edward blinked once at the suggestion, before leaning in and saying ”now there’s an idea” with a point, before rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

After a few moments of this he agreed ”Might well work, though we should probably put the workshop to its intended use before we convert it to match our own ends” before setting down his drained cup and standing to do just that.

As he began to get the workbench prepped for, well, work, he casually enquired ”So, what activities have you crossed off of the list might I ask?”

"Early on Blazermate, Queen Sectonia and me got roped into picking clothes, but you probably knew that since I see you got yours," the Cadet started with. He gave Edward space at the elven workbench, getting up to wander the rest of the shop. It wasn't a huge area, but there was room enough for a lot of people to work at once. "Then I ended up in a couple of snowball fights with Tenna and Sandalphon. Now that it's already getting late, seems like the day's really sliding by."

He chose a station not far from Edward's so that they could still easily chat while they worked, dropping himself onto the wooden stool in front of it. Speaking of, he glanced over at Edward wondering if his smithing experience would translate well.

"Ever made anything like this before?"

”Not since my academy days" Edward replied, as he flipped his journal back to one of its earliest pages, and then began to assemble some pre-prepared parts together as he spoke ”and even then, it was an introductory project, getting students to create a small machine powered by magic before moving onto the larger, more dangerous, creations. Only so much damage you can do if the power supply for your toy soldier destablises"

Saying that, he completed the finishing touch on one such toy solider who was for some reason armed with a baguette. He placed it down on the table and then with a command of ”forward march!!" caused an amber glow to alight in the soldier's eyes, who promptly matched his way forwards..

”Never had much time for such frivolities since those early days. Everything that came after was so…. hectic" he said, as he watched his creation forwards, before calling for a ”halt!" before the soldier took a tumble off of the edge of the workbench.

Ace watched the toy's test with interest. He would never have thought that making similar little moving trinkets would lead to people learning how to work with their magic, but it made sense. And the toy soldier itself wasn't bad!

"Seems like you still got it - doesn't even need a crank or winding key! The kids that get your handiwork are gonna be lucky!"

The Cadet himself was working on a crude but sort of endearing doll. With plenty of basic shapes already sewn and stuffed, it was only a matter of attaching them together and adding a bit of personal flair. The head of what was probably supposed to be a person flipped upside down with the likely wings of an angel or snow fairy attached to the back, along with mismatched arms to a body, finished with a couple of buttons sewn on and it was just about finished. Ace held up the doll and turned it in his hands, giving it an in depth once over. "I think that looks pretty close..."

”To one of the creatures in your world? It certainly makes for a charming stuffed animal" Edward replied, as he finished scribbling a (far too technical) note with the commands for the toy soldier’s recipient, before attaching it to the toy and handing it over to one of the golems for transport to the wrapping team. It gingerly took the item and wrapped it in its cords before dutifully floating off down the hall with it.

"You think so? Thanks. It is supposed to be a Yian Kut-ku, but I was basing it off of a toy I'd seen before. I knew someone that made these kinds of things a lot and I always thought they were pretty cute." The hunter sat the plush down on the table next to him, a fond expression on his face. "And I've never really tried before so I figured, go with something you sort of know."

He cast his eyes over the rest of the creation options before cracking his knuckles. He wondered how many they ought to make before experimenting with the life size versions, but it was probably a lot more than just a few. "One or two more and then I'll be ready to try something more Kut-kurazy."

”No time like the present, I’d say" Edward replied, beginning to stand as he did so and then pausing to give half a laugh at his unintended pun, which had earned a grin from his fellow Seeker. Then he fully got to his feet and began examining their fabric options, saying ”Perhaps something traditional, however, as our first. Bears are a fairly popular choice in my reality, though, now that I think of it, I can’t say why? Perhaps it's hibernation and an association with sleep as a result?"

"A bear..." it wasn't a very common word in the Cadet's vocabulary, but there was something that came to mind. Something with massive fangs and claws, with sharp spikes protruding from its back and up its arms. Not very cuddly, but it did hibernate, so maybe Edward was onto something?

The two of them collaborated on the next toy, but perhaps because of their experiences the stuffed animal ended up looking a little meaner than a mass produced one, especially with the amateur stitch work. But at the very least whoever dared to hug it would find it to be a very warm bear indeed.

”Might have gone a little too far with the self warming"

"Nah, it seems alright! Let's do the next one with blue fur though," Ace said with a nod. "Or if we stick with animals maybe we could do some felynes - I think those are the most common stuffed dolls where I'm from."

The sewing stations did come with plenty of patterns to use, so other than the altered bear there were options for cats, dogs, and more available. While going through them, Ace pointed out the pig patterns too, and with time the two of them could make some friendlier looking plushies.

Although once they got tired of needles and fabric, they could always move on to knives, wood, and sandpaper, in which case Ace was happy to show off some basic carved figurines.

”You have a very deft hand at this, don’t you" Edward said, while whittling away, doing his best to copy the design but not quite managing it. Simple shapes for the ornaments had been easy, especially when a mistake didn’t cost too much time. Getting the carving right in one go was a little trickier.

What he found much more manageable was working with a material that could be shaped and reshaped till the desired form was found, and only after was everything ready to be set in stone. Or ready to be fired, as the case was with his creation of a miniature army of clay chargers defenders and arbalests, all utalising the same spell as the earlier toy soldier to allow locomotion.

By following Edward's example Ace took a shot at making the clay soldiers as well, the first one little more than a human-shaped smudge but each subsequent one getting better and better.

"Just learning as I go, but look who's talking," Ace said, nodding to the quality of Edward's toy army.

He handed his passable clay creations over for the dreadnought to enchant before each was collected by the string light golems and floated away. Experimenting with various mediums and designs still took a while even as the two got faster as the motions became more familiar, but it was hard to tell how much time was passing when the cloud cover still completely blocked the sun. And so they worked on.

"I wonder if we could get any of these over to the other team as souvenirs…?"

”I’m sure the two, ah, well, actual children among them would appreciate it at least" Edward replied after a moment of thought, before continuing that ”I’d have to lean on your experience when it comes to knowing which of the rest of those team members would or would not appreciate a gift like this. If they were sending us things, I don’t think, say, Ganondorf would appreciate one of these," before wiggling the hair tendrils of the to the less than stellar Mutant Aisha Plushie he’d produced.

Ace chuckled and really couldn't disagree. Though he wasn't sure he knew all of the Gold Team members that well, at least not enough to guess at what sort of things they'd like.

"Maybe just Bowser Jr. and Rika then," he said. "And Nadia too! Maybe Sakura and Pit...?" even the angel he was iffy about, and the rest of that group he hadn't a clue besides the fact he'd learned that Roland liked coffee, which didn't translate well to trinkets. Ace gave Edward a sort of 'what can you do' smile. "Let's see what we end up with and pick a few good ones to send."

A few more experiments led to some thematically appropriate creations, like a wonky gingerbread man and snowmen that doubled as keychains in various materials - which they could probably give to Roxas without much fuss. Little tiger toys in different colors were fairly simple to put together once they got the pattern down, especially since they could rely on pre-printed or painted fabrics for the designs.

Indeed they were so simple that Edward managed to get a squad of copper golems to make a batch of them, only to find himself admitting that ”It sort of takes the… whimsy out of it doesn't it" and dismissing the idea.

Making custom toys was simply more entertaining and, he hoped, would delight the recipients more even if the results, such as a bright pink car Edward managed to adapt his animation spell to, were a little off from time to time.

In agreement that unique and handmade were best, the two Seekers toiled on. They sewed, whittled, and cast their way throughout the workshop, sending stuffed toys, carved dolls, and army play sets, all among marvels of magic thanks to Edward's enchantments. Not to be outdone (not that it was actually a competition between them), Ace honed his skill as they continued crafting until he could present what was his magnum opus... or at least the best that he was going to be able to do: a monkey on a swing, deceptively detailed with his best stitching yet on a simple wooden seat that swayed when hung up but worked just as well as a regular doll when detached from it.

Eventually the craftsmen grew so focussed that they hardly noticed when the holiday light constructs had started carrying a few fleas away, three in total over the course of the Seekers’ time there, who’d snuck their way into the workshop and happily play tested what Edward and Ace had set aside before being lifted off and returned to their caravan.

Only once they’d made a miniature mountain of toys for the festival, both crude and polished, with a few tucked away to send to Esaka (they had originally planned to return them to the Avenger via the armory, but when Maeve had come to check in on them she assured them that the mysterious ‘Santa’ would ensure any Christmas gifts sent from the village made it to their intended recipient) did they start to come up with ways to help themselves out too. With some of the toy sets like that of a train for a basis, it was just a matter of increasing the size and durability of what they managed to make. Armor plating for the outside would be simple but use much more metal, while attempting wheels left a whole lot of room for error. Thankfully they could -and had- practice as much as they wanted just by making toy vehicles, so once the mini-wheels were perfected they gradually scaled up until they had a few giant wheels in a couple of different materials that they could try and fit on the coach.

And if it didn’t end up working, well, the wheels could always be recycled to make more gifts.

By the time Heismay set foot outside the village’s workshop lodge again, he’d been baking bread and frying fish for so long in the toasty warm kitchen that the cold came as something of a shock. The eugief shivered as he pulled on his parka, stuffed his long ears into the hood, and then layered his new red coat atop it. Much better. By virtue of the snowy gusts and biting windchill, it was easy for him to believe that it was colder today than yesterday. Hopefully the townsfolk back in Snowdin were staying warm as well, and hopefully the Seekers would be prepared to venture even further along the Midnight Walk to Moon Mountain. Though he looked to the north, he couldn’t see that mountain right now, not with that huge blizzard in the way. Something told Heismay that the Christmas Village would be the last bit of hospitality they’d see before reaching that desolate peak. Everyone had better make the most of it.

Speaking of the night’s festivities, preparations were now well underway. Somehow it was around three o’ clock in the afternoon already–time had flown by while fishing and cooking. He’d definitely spent some quality time with Mokou, Layton, and Ramattra, even if he didn’t get to know the other two as well as the Phoenix. Nothing to do but talk and wait while fishing, he supposed. That did get Heismay curious about what everyone else had gotten up to today. He expected that Geralt would be out hunting monsters to keep the village safe, or perhaps going after less dangerous game for once, in the hopes of adding some extra meat to everyone’s evening meal.

While looking around, Heismay happened to see one person whose very nature made him curious: the automaton, Blazermate. She seemed to be flitting here and there as if searching for something, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what she was doing. Tracking down lost fleas, perhaps? Well, since he couldn’t see any other ways to make himself useful at the moment, Heismay figured he might as well help. Jogging over, he waved to get the Medabot’s attention. “Ho, there! Looking for something?”

Nearby - though he hadn’t spoken up yet - was Ganondorf. For the moment the man was taking bites off of a fish that had been fried a little while ago and was just now cooled enough to be safely eaten. Something about the nature of the Gravemind spirit had increased his appetite as of late. It likely had something to do with how his biomass regenerated but the Gerudo couldn’t be sure as he was not particularly knowledgeable in those topics. Either way it meant he was here at this moment and munching on a fried fish. He too had seen Blazermate flitting about but for the moment was still keeping to himself.

”Oh hi Heismay, I’m looking for those snow imps. They’re in all kinds of weird spots. Wanna help?” Blazermate said, following a set of tracks to the location of another one that seemed to be hiding inside a pile of snow.

When Blazermate reached the spot, however, she was in for a surprise. Even though she heard mischievous giggling coming from the snow bank, sifting through the snow turned up no sign of any imps, and sure enough a scan reported that the signal she previously detected was no longer present.

In the silence that followed, a familiar voice reached the three Seekers. “Oh, did someone say snow imps?” The pixie, Maeve, flitted over from the direction of the village center. “You should’ve asked me first! These imps, like all implings, have the ability to teleport! Not to mention, they also fly, so if you see any ‘imp tracks’ you can bet it’s a trick. Even if you do somehow get your hands on one, they’re not gonna stay caught for long!” Blazermate would quickly realize the truth behind Maeve’s words as she checked on the implings she’d already obtained, only to find that they’d all disappeared without a trace. “If you’re going to catch them, you need impling jars to nullify their powers,” she recommended. “Plus, you can’t go wrong with an impling net. Luckily, I’ve still got all the equipment I ordered a couple days ago. Everyone who’s tried imp hunting so far has given up pretty quickly…” Although she looked very weary and annoyed for a moment, the Pixie quickly perked herself up again in an unconvincing manner. “So, uh, good luck!”

After handing Blazermate and Heismay a set of four nets and twelve jars, she zipped away to attend some other duty. The eugief gripped the net he’d been given like a sword, testing its balance and heft. Much lighter even than his fishing rod, it would lend itself to quick, accurate movements. He glanced at Ganondorf nearby, then turned his attention to Blazermate. “I’m willing to give it a try. Six jars apiece, then?”

”Make it four apiece.” The Gerudo said, slowly standing up. ”This sounds rather similar to catching fairies with bottles in the world I hail from. How hard could it possibly be?” The man wasn’t normally keen to do these kinds of side games, things had been rather dull since the Seekers’ arrival to the village and he needed something with which to alleviate his growing boredom. May as well do this, he decided.

He grabbed a net and tested its weight and heft. It looked no different than the kind of Bug Catching Nets some Hylian lads would play with. But from the description of it he had to hazard a guess that the net was enchanted somehow to be effective against these, what were they, snow imps?

“Very well.” Heismay hadn’t expected the huge warlord to join him and Blazermate in netting pests, but he wasn’t about to object. “Oh, and let us keep a sharp eye out for fleas while we’re at it. There are a fair few still to be found, I believe.”

The trio spread out, searching for snow implings. With the creatures’ propensity for making mischief, it didn’t take long for them to find one of the festively-dressed gremlins gnawing at the cord of some Christmas lights strung between two candy cane poles. At that altitude, it lay beyond even Ganondorf’s reach. Blazermate could fly up to reach it, but the medabot wasn’t the fastest, so it would probably have plenty of time to flee. Still, it was worth a try, so rather than jump to conclusions about his allies’ abilities Heismay waited to see how they’d handle the situation.

Well, Blazermate was simple at the end of the day, and rushed the imp. But as she got close and it juked her by moving around, taunting, Blazermate got an idea. She got into range of it once again as it flew around making fun of her attempts and Disrupted it to get next to it with her net as it was banished into a plane of shadow for a few seconds. Once it came back, it met her net that caught it and its 2 illusions, the illusions poofing soon afterwards.

Heismay raised an eyebrow at her achievement, impressed. From the outset it looked like Blazermate would be outmatched and made sport of by the wily little fiend. If anything, Maeve had undersold the impling’s evasive abilities. It turned out, though, that Blazermate had a trick up her sleeve that could restrict its movements. “Well struck,” he called up to her. That gave him an idea of his own to try on the next imp they found, based on his brief but memorably strange encounter with that frozen thing from the coal chute.

With Blazermate’s scanning abilities, and Heismay’s sharp hearing, it didn’t take the hunters long to spot a second impling. This one had infested the fishing pond, attempting to gnaw through the fishing line. This time, the eugief stepped forward, but not to pit his own agility against the imp’s. “Allow me.” He focused, geometric streaks of orange light spreading across his body, and assumed his new Gunner Archetype. Taking aim with the cannon he hefted on his shoulder, he waited for the imp to stop moving, then fired.

His first shot whizzed by a few inches to the right of his target. It struck a tree, and the noise alerted the imp as it stared in the impact’s direction. “Damn,” Heismay muttered beneath his breath, adjusting his aim. When he pulled the trigger again, his next bolt struck the imp dead-on. Rather than doing damage, it instantly put the gremlin to sleep. Heismay had plenty of time to revert to normal, stroll over, pluck the imp from the snow, and jam it into a jar. “Simple enough,” he commented. “Although my magla is limited, I should have enough to subdue three more.”

After another minute of searching, a third imp was spotted trying to sabotage the ornaments of a Christmas Tree. This time it was Ganondorf who stepped forward, though the man had no desire to chase down an imp on foot. Instead he summoned one of his strikers, the Maverick Reploid known as Blast Hornet. The Reploid in question had a tool in his arsenal that could be helpful for situations like this, and so Ganondorf chose to rely on it for this instance.

He let Blast Hornet do his thing, and the Reploid took a moment to lock its crosshairs onto the snow imp before unleashing his bee drones in a Search Attack. They were seekers, and so they’d continuously chase and close in on the imp regardless of how it tried to zig and zag. Eventually it slipped up and got tagged by one of the bee drones, which in this instance didn’t attack or explode. Instead the drone latched into the imp and carried it back toward Ganondorf and Blast Hornet where it was then stashed into one of Ganondorf’s jars.

“Twould seem we’re all well-suited to the task, in some way or another,” Heismay remarked. Sure, professional hunters like Geralt and Ace probably would’ve had even better ways to nab their quarry, but it was comforting to know that the Seekers could accomplish a task like this without them. More than anything, this experience seemed to underscore the importance of having a variety of spirits under one’s belt. Heismay’s Archetypes were born of his own power, of course, but still.

With everyone capable of capturing implings, there was no need to stay together, so the three split up to cover more ground. Over the course of the next half hour, each tracked down another two imps up to no good around the Christmas Village.

Heismay identified one snow imp at the to-do sign, bullying Maeve. After discussing strategy with the pixie, the two successfully baited the imp and knocked it out with a Sleep Shot. The hermit found another bothering the reindeer, which proved difficult to tranquilize without hitting the beasts themselves; eventually, he gave up and tranquilized everything in the area, exhausting the rest of his magla. He also found a flea cozily snuggled up against a sleeping reindeer, which he gently prodded awake and encouraged to return to the caravan.

Blazermate now with a net in tow, could continue her hunt for these imps. She remembered one of them she had found that had escaped her loved candy canes, so with an inspired idea, she grabbed a candy cane out of one of the barrels and put it in the middle of an intersection clearly in view of many houses as she hid in a snowbank. Hunters laid traps like this right? Although it took a little while, eventually that snow imp took the bait. Blazermate let it eat its candy cane for a little bit before catching it, letting it get a bit full and thus lethargic before she caught it so it wouldn’t run away.

Ganondorf’s efforts were comparatively more dull, though not without at least some minor incident. The first snow imp he located was simply trying to tangle up some colorful Christmas lights that somebody had strung across the roof of their cottage, and Blast Hornet’s Search Attack was enough to snag it as before. The second one? That one was darting around a local cafe spiking people’s hot cocoa with salt and pepper to ruin their flavor. And unfortunately Blast Hornet’s drones weren’t a viable option here since a sudden appearance of mechanical bees might cause a small panic. So for that one Ganondorf had to pursue the imp the old fashioned way, which took him a frustrating amount of time compared to how simple his previous catches were.

After about an hour, Heismay chased down Blazermate, then Ganondorf so the imp hunters could compare notes. With nine of the ne’er-do-wells snagged, that left only three at large, and fortunately Heismay had an idea where they might be hiding. “Twould seem that a few of them realized that we’re hunting them down,” he reported. “I followed one away from the village using my ears. I spotted a lonesome cottage amidst a copse of tall, slender pines, all bowing toward it in an eerie manner. The whole place was of a rather loathsome aspect, and I suspect they’re hiding there.” He left it implicit that he’d decided to round up his comrades rather than braving a potentially dangerous location on his own.

”Huh…. Well if any are on the roof then I’ll be the one to get those I guess.” Blazermate said, shrugging. Finding these things was kind of annoying just due to the whole ‘hunting’ part. Why were they faster than her? That wasn’t fair!

”Hmph, trying to make a last stand?” Ganondorf scoffed, ”Let them try. It won’t work.”

The three set off, quickly leaving the bustling activity, colorful lights, and festive warmth of the Christmas Village behind. Heismay followed his own tracks in the snow, literally retracing his steps as the sounds of chatter and laughter gave way to the low roar of wintry wind. Finally, after a couple minutes of walking, the Seekers caught a glimpse of their destination.



That house on the hill, and indeed the whole scene surrounding it, were exactly as Heismay described it: eerie. The house itself, gutted and half-ruined by a disastrous fire, stood atop a set of four chicken legs as thick as tree trunks, and a crooked staircase of worn stone wound up to the red door, like the gullet of some nightmarish creature. To the side of the house lay a well without a pulley or bucket. Even with two allies at his side, Heismay curled his lip at the odious house. “I strongly mislike this place. The wind…tis as if it whispers, but I cannot make out its meaning.”

”The sooner we find the imps, the sooner we won’t have to look at this place anymore.”

“Right.” Although Hismay didn’t like taking the lead, neither Ganondorf nor Blazermate pushed forward, so he steeled himself and climbed the staircase, one step at a time. At the top he inhaled, though pushed open the old red door.

In a chair opposite the door, immediately visible, was a dessicated corpse. Burned, then left at the mercy of the elements for who knew how long, it has skin like leather stretched over gnarled bone. It sat in a moth-eaten chair, motionless, but in the deathgrip of its upraised hand struggled a single snow imp, pale with fright.

Heismay stood, stock-still, half-expecting the cadaver to lunge any second. When it did not, he carefully circled around it to let the others in, then peered around the ruined hovel. Precious little remained of the interior, though the barely-audible sound of whining led him to the kitchen table. Underneath it cowered a young flea, shivering in fright. Heismay pursed his lips, then bent down to carefully remove the flea so he could toss it through a broken window, sending it on its way.

He could not see any more imps. The only other thing of note within the house was a strange gizmo laying on a countertop, a shell made of metal. When he picked it up, it buzzed, and the sound of raspy breathing began to emanate from the shell’s hole.

“I lost my way again. It’s getting dark now. But the dark is a well of ideas, a blank canvas full of possibilities. The dark itself is the key. All I need is a little spark, and then I get what I need. It hungers for fire, so I take a match, I light it, and I offer it. I give it freely. I have to…surrender…”

He swallowed, set the shellphone down, and unceremoniously hopped back out through the window, not even bothering with the door. He landed next to the well, disturbing a snow imp that had been hiding behind it. With a yelp, the imp flew upward, then darted down into the well. When Heismay approached and looked down into it, however, he saw only darkness. Roiling, bubbling, pitch black nothingness, darker than a moonless night.

While Ganondorf wrested the caught imp from the corpse’s grasp, Blazermate followed Heismay out, just barely able to spot the fleeing imp before it disappeared. Taking the words delivered by the shellphone literally, she put her new firemaking skills to work by using her tinderbox to turn a pine branch into a makeshift torch. After Ganondorf joined her and a tentative nod from Heismay, she dropped it into the well. Immediately, the darkness began to stir. For a brief moment, the Seekers could see what looked like a single white eye staring out from the abyss, garbled with static distortion as spine-chilling white noise issued from the depths. Then the eye vanished, and up from the well flew two snow imps, comatose with faces frozen in expressions of abject terror.

As he fought to control his breathing, Heismay nudged one imp into his last jar with his net, careful not to touch it directly. Blazermate did the same with the other one, and the moment she had the impling captive, the Seekers left the house on the hill behind.

---

---

Needing to adjust the antlers atop his head from how they hung lazily loose around his skull. While he was at least pleased the outfit did not disrespect his more “neutral” appearance, he was fortunate that he could shed these clothes after the festivities. As the kitchen employees began growing insistent that they could take matters into their own hands, Ramattra now found himself alone with Professor Layton in the cold festive scenery that some of the other Seekers had helped decorate. “Well, I suppose I wouldn’t have been much help anyway. Seems like they have more important preparations to tend to.”

The Omnic looked as though for a moment he was going to stride off from the professor, before suddenly halting to speak to him again. “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind, maybe you could help me solve this ‘jumping puzzle’ the townies need assistance with. I’ve taken glances from the distance to scout it out, but it both perplexes and raises caution in me.”

At the mention of this ‘puzzle’, the Professor lit up, raising his head from his journal where he’d been collecting his thoughts. ”I had my eye on solving this jumping puzzle as well,” he answered, ”so I’d be happy to assist you.”

Ramattra scratched his chin, trying his best to cobble together a plan of action before embarking towards the isolated puzzle area. “Perhaps we should recruit some assistance from one of our rank’s more agile members as well… but who…” The Omnic gestured for Layton to follow him towards where Maeve’s task-list was written, hoping to find any of the more nimble Seekers looking for tasks.

As if answering the Omnic’s question, a certain dog Pokemon came bounding by, barking happily. And of course, the Boltund in question was being chased down by his owner. ”What’s up with you today, Scamp?” Roxas rasped when he finally caught his Pokemon and practically tackled the hound to the ground. He’d put away his usual silver jackal mask in favor of a red and white Santa-hat, and a Christrmas Tree-green scarf wrapped around his neck with snow white trimmings that made it look like it was covered in a Christmas Tree forest.

After a moment, the Nobody finally managed to get Scamp to calm down a bit. And only now did he look around and take stock of where exactly he and his Pokemon partner had ended up, ”So uh, what’s going on around here?” Roxas asked, curiously.

The Omnic looked toward the festively-clad Nobody, never having had the proper opportunity beforehand to introduce himself. “Ah. Roxas was your name, yes? I don’t believe you and I have worked together before. Say, me and my friend here were going to take a look at that puzzle towards the foot of those hills. Would you mind accompanying us in case it is outside our mobility?” The Omnic gestured to the towering snowmen in the distance, barely visible minus the string lights wrapped around the obstacle course they were to soon tackle.

Ramattra looked down at Layton beside him, offering an introduction between the two. “This is another one of ours. I’m not quite sure how long he’s been apart of the Seekers, but it was longer than I.” The storm in the distance whipped harder, almost teetering the Omnic off his three mechanical legs. “Not much time for introductions I fear. With this storm we need to be moving to the puzzle.”

”No need for introductions. Roxas and I met earlier, when we collected letters for Santa.” He offered the kid a handshake, filing that name away in the back of his mind for later: Seekers.

The three traveled against the wind of the storm, pushing against drifts that brushed their cheeks as they climbed up the massive erected candy canes and snowmen. “I managed to take a small look at it earlier, but the first jump is out of my range, even in my Ravager mode.”

The jump would easily be accessible by any agile Seeker, only requiring a simple ‘double jump’ or mobility ability, which is why Ramattra recruited the blonde Nobody. “Human, if you could tag along with Roxas, maybe you could help guide him through up close?” The first jump seemed unstable, a large snowflake-shaped ice sheet that was sure to shatter after a moment of applied weight. The snowflake was quickly followed by other fragile platforms of the same shape.

Layton took his time taking in the many platforms and angles that formed their paths to the goal. ”Are you unfamiliar with Puzzles, Roxas?”

”Depends on what you mean by ‘Puzzles’.” Roxas answered, deciding to recall Scamp into his Poke Ball while he was performing the necessary jumps that would be required of him, ”We played a minigame a little over a week ago that involved climbing up a mountain by traversing lots of platforms. Although I don’t remember any of them being this… fragile looking.”

In the end shrugged and figured he could get through this with flow motion. And if something did happen to go wrong, then Roxas still had his virtual cubes he could generate to save himself from a fall. He didn’t have anything that could be considered a double jump to make the first snowflake, but that didn’t mean he would be stumped either. Roxas simply used his Phantom Ruby necklace to generate an intermediate platform of virtual cubes between the starting ledge and the first snowflake so he could skip across.

”Don’t try to follow me!” Roxas called back behind him, ”Those cubes will damage anyone who touches them other than me!” And while Roxas could traverse the snowflakes with little trouble, actually finding the correct path was another story. For that he would just have to trust the Professor to watch his moves and call out proper directions when it was needed.

Ramattra, unable to either make the jump or cross with Roxas, took to shouting directions from where the starting point was. The pathway Roxas followed the cubic bridge atop had relatively little deviation, however from a lower perspective, the Omnic could see hazards before they crossed Roxas’ mind.

The snowflakes quickly lead to two safe peppermint platforms, which could give Roxas a chance to see the environment ahead. More snowflakes, however these ones led upwards towards one of the many ice towers, where a particularly unfriendly snowman looked ready to rip bullets into any puzzle-goers. Ramattra noticed that the Snowman was sentient, and was quick to alert the Nobody. “Keep your head up Roxas! You’ve got trouble!” Ramattra thought about using his staff to snipe the snowman down, but with the low visibility and height, Roxas could easily get hit by accident.

Roxas’ response to the threat was to simply vanish before he could get hit by any bullets. And a second later, the Nobody reappeared behind the Snowman having used his StepSword to teleport to it for a quick tag strike. That by itself didn’t do the Snowman, but the Firaga spell that Roxas followed up with did, ”Simple enough so far!” Roxas called back down to Ramattra and the Professor. Then he took to the next snowflake and traversed further upward.

The snowflake platforms began to transition into peppermint ones, which, while not fragile, were smaller and harder to navigate around. A small leap between each sweet platform was easy enough; however, Roxas found himself having to secure his footing to cross the floating treats. A small flea could be found shivering, looking up at the Nobody like a small child trapped atop a diving board. It seemed like it attempted the puzzle in it’s lonesome. “Fwwooo?” Roxas greeted the small creature with a wave, offering it to mimic his movements to the end of the puzzle.

The next obstacle, however, was more complicated to scout for, as it involved present-shaped platforms exploding into confetti at irregular intervals. It was spontaneous and unpredictable. From afar, Ramattra was unable to give much advice on how to climb over the staircase of imploding Christmas gifts; however, he noticed that, “There’s a wide window before they start disappearing! You should be able to cross them without having to make large dodges.”

The Nobody swiftly bound from present to present once their positions reset, making for a couple of longer leaps, but the obstacle was otherwise passable. A small patch of ice and snow would allow a winded Roxas to recover for a moment before observing the future terrain.

The final obstacle was the most daring, an uphill climb where a troublesome snow-hurler perched at the peak, throwing large snowballs that grew in size as they traveled downwards toward Roxas who had limited safety thanks to the nearby peppermint platforms. In fact, there were a few along the side of the hill that could provide safe travel with good timing. Ramattra noticed this, but decided that his input wasn't necessary when he noticed the enemy producing the obstacle.

The Omnic tried his best to take aim from afar and snipe the snow-menace from the bottom of the hill, but it required an insane amount of concentration to hit his mark. Some of the nanites from his staff skidded the enemy's head, knocking its concentration off, mindlessly hurling snow down the hill before succumbing to damage. The balls of snow ceased, allowing Roxas easy passage up the hill.

The Nobody was greeted with a large floating treasure trove of presents that served as a makeshift pathway into the mouth of a large glowing present, which Roxas assumed needed to be crossed. Bravely, he dove into the mouth of the glowing gift, the small flea following suit. Suddenly, Roxas and the flea teleported back alongside Layton and Ramattra, where a festive fanfare played as a present suddenly appeared alongside the Omnic. “What was at the peak?” Ramattra asked, as Roxas grabbed at the present next to the Null Sector Commander, opening it to reveal a second flea to return to town.

”Nothing really. But don’t things feel… lighter?” It was impossible for Ramattra to ignore his uplifted mood. While he chalked it up to feeling accomplished for completing the puzzle, it felt like the whole crew felt jubilantly uplifted.

As one might expect, Ms Fortune and Robo-fortune differed in their opinions about what to do next. Nadia wanted to celebrate in some way, since even if she was only two rounds into her tournament run, she was still afloat in the Winners’ bracket in the most dangerous tournament Esaka had to offer. Keeping her spirits up was critical, she argued, especially after coming dangerously close to a loss at Maya and Miras’ hands.

Meanwhile, Robo reasoned that if Nadia still had energy to burn after her last competitive match for the day, the two should spend some time on their teamwork. The half-sisters they’d narrowly beaten had demonstrated the terrifying potential of clever Kameo use in combo. Sure, the computerized catgirl’s assorted Theonite Beams made her a strong zoning assist, but if they actually practiced combo extensions, Nadia’s number-one strength (aside from her fast and unpredictable mixups) would be even stronger. Although the feral was by no means the most diligent person around, she wasn’t totally deaf to critique, either. Over the last day she’d been shown her own fallibility plenty, so she couldn’t deny that Robo had a point.

Before the two could come to a decision (or even get all that far from the stage of their last clash, for that matter) a familiar figure flagged Nadia down. She’d recognize that rich red dress and huge brown ponytail anywhere, and though the beautiful Primrose was always a welcome sight, the cat burglar still didn’t really want to see any Seeker of Light right now. Not until she’d won Mortal Kombat, and hopefully redeemed herself after witlessly inviting the catastrophe that befell Banishing Flats and its tenants last night. Nevertheless, if it had to be any Seeker, at least it was Primrose. The dancer had already found her once that morning, breaking the ice somewhat, and even beyond that the dancer understood her better than anyone else, except maybe Ace. By now, Nadia trusted Primrose to be fair and give her a chance to make things right. As such, while she froze for a brief moment when she recognized her comrade, the catgirl did not flee, but sheepishly made her way over.

“Found me again, eh?” Realistically speaking, her new outfit did very little to obscure her identity, even if its hood did hide her face. Of course, that hadn’t been how Primrose rediscovered her; it was Esaka’s organizational bulletin boards that betrayed the location of every tournament competitor. “Maybe I shoulda entered under an alias. Crafted a purr-sona, if you will.”

Robo-fortune lacked context for the pair’s interaction, but she could put two and two together. “A friend of yours?” the android inquired.

Nadia nodded, her tail flicking behind her. “Uh huh. Or…I hope so, at least. Robo, meet Primrose. Primrose, Robo-fortune. Wonderin’ why I’ve got an evil robot clone? Me too.” She scratched at her neck self-consciously and shifted to move out of the way of a barrel mech piloted by a purple-haired dwarf, which took up most of the walkway as its pilot hurried toward a nearby stage for his next match.

“So…what can I do ya for, Rosey?”

---

With a little encouragement from Chel, Big Band deployed his mechanical arms and pushed himself laboriously back to his feet. After that last round, he felt drained, both physically and emotionally. He’d made a lot of mistakes, both in overall game plan and moment-to-moment reactions. It wasn’t like the detective didn’t have a fighting chance, since he’d taken the first round handily, but fighting with a broken respirator was a massive hindrance. If he was going to triumph here in his third Pools match, he couldn’t take the same approach that he did in round one, not without burning out again. At the very least, Band’s many years as a beat cop and an Anti-Skullgirl agent meant that he was well-equipped to adapt to evolving circumstances, and no stranger to unlikely victories. He knew he could do this. It was just a matter of…well, doing it.

Chel, at least, seemed excited to trade blows once more. “¿Listo para pelear de nuevo?” Ready to fight again? The Mexican mech performed a nimble backflip, then assumed her fighting stance. “Bien, ¡hagamos esto!” Good, let’s do this!

FINAL ROUND: FIGHT!

When the Heavenly Principles initiated the combatants’ last clash, Band held his ground, so Chel did what she did best. “¡Estrella!” Eyes narrowed, Band stood firm as if to block the plasma shot, only to seemingly push forward into it right before impact. He grunted in muted annoyance, shrugged off the splash of searing energy, and kept moving. Chel leaped backward, fired at a downward angle in midair, then landed and launched another Sun Void right after. This time, though, Band unfurled his high hat cymbal at just the right time to soak up his foe’s Sun Voids and give himself a little extra Dramatic Tension, one after another. Chel had only the one projectile, after all, and it was high time that the detective put a lid on its brazen overuse.

For now, though, Chel wasn’t convinced. She continued to fire off Sun Voids, retreating from and circling around her opponent to slowly build up a life lead. Although Band’s Noise Cancels weren’t perfect, he’d grasped their timing well enough to parry four out of five, allowing him to close the distance between himself and Chel one big step at a time. He didn’t even throw out Brass Knuckles as a shortcut, but patiently walked her down. After a few seconds, and getting rather close to one edge of the arena, Chel realized that this wasn’t working anymore. After another plasma shot, she jumped forward rather than back, hoping that Band was so focused on his intensive approach that he’d be blindsided by the change-up.

Unfortunately for her, this was exactly what Band had been waiting for. Before Chel’s jump-in could clock him on the head, the machine found herself caught between the halves of Band’s tambourine. “Gotcha good!” He pictured in mind the combo he wanted, an effective but simple sequence, not so strenuous that he’d run out of gas before cashing out with a finisher. Without shaking to inflict Sound Stun, he let Chel drop into a trumpet whack, then hammered her higher again with a saxophone uppercut. Band jumped after her, serenaded her with baritone and then bass soundblasts from his side caps, then leaned back to send Chel sailing with a 5000 lb Slam. “HMPH!”

His opponent flew away and rebounded in a wallbounce, despite the conspicuous lack of wall around the combatants’ stage. At the same time, Band landed flat on his back and teched forward, bounding to his feet in order to meet the mech in the middle. His Pneumatic Slide picked Chel up off the ground so that he could follow up with his Jelly Roll, that aerial tambourine spin of his keeping Chel captive as he reached the top of his low arc and began to fall. “Shake, shake!” He let off a baritone blast as the two fell, hopped back up for a tenor blast into another Jelly Roll, then thrust downward with his giant clarinet to plunge his target down. “Swing it!” Thanks to his large frame, though, Band touched down before her and caught her with Hot Socks just before she hit the ground. A hit from that tiny drum pedal was enough for him to follow up with Bass Drop, then lean back on a music stand for a double kick. Finally, before she could fly off, he slid forward with his anti-air command grab Take the A-Train. “Slow train rollin’!” The next second, he caught her inside his giant mechanical arm. BAM-BAM-BAM…CLANG! After striking like a pile bunker three times, the built-in trombone slide finally belted her out.

Chel hit the ground hard, but sprang up the next second, as lively as ever. Now that Band had the life lead, it was on her to make a move. “¡Me llevo este baile!” She jumped forward, too far away to land a jump-in or be anti-aired, then canceled a plasma shot with Kinetic Advance to close the distance quickly. The mech battered Band’s guard with a couple light chops, the first of which Band blocked standing before hunkering down to crouch-block on reflex. His good habit paid off when Chel transitioned into a low kick, although the pushback left him too far away to strike back with Hot Socks or his musical triangle. He blocked a thrust kick at the edge of its range, at which point a half-step back put him beyond the range of the next one.

A short hop backward coaxed Chel forward, only for him to lash out with a hugely disjointed Cymbal Crash. She reacted just in the nick of time and blocked, even though the tremendous clamor left her ears ringing. Eager to apply pressure, she decided to fire back with Night Sun, then Kinetic Advance forward again. A string of energy swipes from her blade fed into another plasma shot, but this time Band decided to exploit her habits. Rather than let her reset the neutral, he bulled forward through the projectile with a medium Brass Knuckle and drove his fist straight into Chel’s chassis as she recovered from the shot’s recoil. She yelped as Band went for an early spend himself and canceled into Super Sonic Jazz, plowing into her as a giant French horn for maximum unscaled damage. He’d lost his Bagpipe Blues buff from last round and couldn’t follow up with a punch barrage, but as Chel skidded away Band took the chance to reapply it.

Chel regained her feet to the strident, blaring notes of Band’s bagpipes and immediately shot a Night Sun at him to shut him up. Running after her projectile afforded her relative safety, and when Band tried to jump over her plasma to try and tag her with a Jelly Roll, her Crush Breeze successfully anti-aired him. After he hit the ground, she managed to catch him with a throw. “¡Sonríe!” A quick shoulder bash allowed her to flip his massive weight over her back and onto the ground, slightly closer to the stage’s edge. “¡Allá voy!” She charged into melee range as he rose, but stopped at the last moment to back off, anticipating a reversal. Band did challenge, but with his trumpet instead of Beat Extend, which she blocked but could not counterattack.

That left the two to spar with normals and try to open each other up once more, with the unseen match counter slowly closing down all the while. As the seconds ticked by, Chel’s attacks gradually became more frantic. The playful mech was a great grasp of spacing, and she excelled at punishing mistakes from foes forced to chase her down, but Band’s new style, defensive and low-risk, forced her to quit lobbing Sun Voids and go after him instead. Able to conserve energy, Band took a few pokes and projectiles but maintained his life lead. And when the opportunity finally came, he had enough energy to hit hard.

It happened when Chel overused her Kinetic energy and then got a little too cautious, allowing Band to throw her, and after ringing her ears with his bell he launched into a full combo. A Giant Step pedal slam dragged her back into close range, where a Bass Drop set her up for his Air Mail Special. “Saximum!” A brief air string led into the same extender he used before, then a similar but distinct air string followed by a second 5000lb Slam. Rather than follow through normally, though, Band deployed a set of drums and unleashed Timpani Drive. “You’re gonna get beat!” With each strike of a drum, a pulse of sound energy blasted out, resulting in an aerial beatdown that left Chel flat on her back at the stage’s edge.

“Ohh…metí la pata.” I put my foot in it. Gritting her metaphorical teeth, Chel dug deep for a second wind and launched an uppercut to blow through Band’s meaty attempt. That was a welcome surprise for her, given how patient he’d been so far, but it would take a lot more than that to make up the life difference between them. Her mental clock was counting down–just about fifteen seconds left. Could she even win in that time? She had to try.

Chel charged forward, using Kinetic Advance. Unwilling to abandon her courage, she pulled off an overhead, a move so wildly unsafe and unexpected that it somehow worked. A forward heavy double energy blade lunge paved the way for a low thrust, Night Sun, Kinetic Advance cancel, rising blade slash, and Crush Breeze. After the final axe kick, she put all her power into her Overdrive: a massive plasma blast that struck Big Band head-on. “Supernova!” As he hit the ground, she closed the distance with her Stinging Wind Kicks, only for the detective to quick-rise, block, and reversal with Beat Extend. That sealed the deal, and long before Band’s ensuing combo even finished, the Heavenly Principles interceded to decide the match.

TIME UP! BIG BAND WINS!

Straightening up, the cyborg let Chel fall from his grasp. “Saved by the bell, eh?” He let out a heavy breath, his respirator wheezing.

The mech sprang to her feet the moment she could, stomping one foot in a pout. “Ay, estoy tan decepcionado.” I’m so disappointed. She shook her head, then shrugged and stuck out her hand. “Bien jugado, señor.”

Band extended a spindly mechanical arm, careful not to pinch too much, and shook the mech’s hand. “Well played yourself, little lady. Good luck out there.” As the two drew apart, Band’s physical and mental exhaustion began to set in. Chel had been skilled enough to make him take the fight very seriously, but not so skilled that she could change up her own style successfully. He needed a break after a fight like that, but more than anything, he needed his apparatus fixed. And ideally, the temporary solution engineered by Junior replaced with actual repairs.

After double jumping back from the stage to one of the Pools’ many bridges, he set off in search of a lift to the low tier in hopes that he could find an affordable technician. A couple yokai, drawn by the musical commotion of his fight, trailed after him, perhaps hoping that he’d be heading for another brawl they could watch. Their presence reminded Band that he’d rely on donations from spectators like them to stay afloat in Esaka, especially now that he needed money for repairs. Unfortunately, the mutters and remarks of the yokai suggested that they had mixed feelings about the defensive style he’d ended up using. While impressive on a technical level to more competitive watchers, defensive fighting seemed to dissatisfy the casuals. He didn’t know what to do with this realization yet, but it was something to keep in mind as he made his way further through the Winners-side bracket.



On the subject of discretion, Hilde made sure to remind her new associates about one of Esaka’s many dangers. “Keep in mind that if we create too much of a scene, like attacking Azucena or the Gigas outright, the Heavenly Principles will summon Aurumatons to suppress the disturbance.” She seemingly assumed that the Seekers knew enough about Esaka’s guardian constructs to get the weight behind her warning. When Terry second-guessed Harry’s ability to take Azucena on, Hilde gave a tentative nod, somewhat dubious of Du Bois being combat-ready right now.

She considered Terry’s alternative suggestions, though the lady knight appeared to be in favor of a more expedient course of action. “There’s no telling what’ll happen once her publicity stunt is over with. We should take advantage of her Coffee Challenge while we still can. It’s a golden opportunity.”

Hilde kept her eyes on the Peruvian MMA fighter as she accepted another challenger and prepared herself for another match. The crowd drew back from the combatants as they squared up, creating a perimeter that made use of nearby objects like phone booths, planters, traffic barriers, and hot dog stands to create the boundary for an impromptu stage. With all the pedestrians around, not to mention the people involved, these bouts were drawing more attention than most Pools matches. Her prospective opponent, a short blonde woman with an elegant black-and-blue dress and a white greatsword, was Es, allegedly an upper Mid-tier fighter of some renown. With an immovable deadpan expression and rather robotic body language reminiscent of Sandalphon, she remained impassive until the challenge began. Then she unleashed an impressive array of acrobatic sword slashes, revealing superhuman power, speed, and reflexes. At first it seemed as though Azucena, unarmed and without any special abilities, was hopelessly outclassed. It didn’t take long for her to mount a comeback, however, using special taunts, dodges, and counters to toy with her opposition. Her flair didn’t seem to faze Es, but it did excite the crowd, which in turn almost seemed to empower Azucena. In the end, the coffee magnate narrowly claimed victory to a chorus of claps and cheers.

“¡Parece que mi café era demasiado fuerte para ti!” she declared with a huge smile, the Heavenly Principles’ decree automatically interpreting her words from her native Spanish. Looks like my coffee was too strong for you! After helping Es up, though, Azucena waved her toward the table next to her promotional banner, laden with goodie bags emblazoned with her business’s logo. “Pero me gustan los luchadores atrevidos igual que el café atrevido, así que, por favor, ¡sírvete de un premio de consolación!” But I like bold fighters just like I like bold coffee, so please, help yourself to a consolation prize! Es nodded, still expressionless, and walked over to be carefully handed a bag by a Gigas. Without another word she then marched off down the street, and Azucena launched into her usual advertisement, extolling her coffee’s flavor and power as she sought additional challengers.

Folding her arms, Hilde considered the situation. “After so many wins, she’s definitely getting cocky. Maybe we could appeal to her showmanship and change the terms of the fight.” She glanced at Terry. “You might be our best chance. Just big enough of a name to make it happen.”

As she spoke, one other event unfolded not too far away. There was a disgruntled-looking polar bear in a blue apron, leaning against a white van with a logo on the side reading Polar Star Coffee. He attempted to talk to Es as she walked by, but Es ignored him, eliciting a disappointed grumble. Afterward, the bear crossed his arms and sat back down to continue watching Azucena’s Coffee Challenge from a respectful distance, a grim frown on his furry features.



Darun Mister looked Kim up and down. “I don’t recognize you, so I doubt anyone else would. But tricking your way in there won’t be easy. If the production crew is a tight-knit bunch, they’ll sniff you out right away.” The Indian wrestler shrugged. “Also…there’s no telling if Chloe’s even in there right now. If her people are still setting up, I doubt it.” He turned and looked over the area around the opera house. There didn’t seem to be anyone out of the ordinary, though given how many oddball fighters populated Esaka, that wasn’t saying much. “Perhaps if we ask around, we’ll find someone who’s seen her. Then again, ask the wrong person and she might get tipped off. It’s a tough call!”



A few minutes after Junior and Rika reached the agreed-upon meeting spot outside Esaka’s northern gate, Anji showed up in what Dolores had assumedly referred to as the ‘company car’. Looking at it, though, one could only imagine that the Darli Dagger had been the one to pick this vehicle out. The Frying Dutchman appeared a miniature pirate ship on giant offroad tires, completely with a sail and a fishy figurehead, not quite as big as a monster truck but still more sizeable than an everyday SUV. A look at its cabin from the back revealed that it was essentially a stylized, souped-up food truck, though whether or not the UN agents ever used it for its intended purposes was highly debatable. Anji, at least, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely as he drove the unwieldy thing over to the rendezvous.

“Haha, yes!” Darli grinned ear to ear at the sight of the Frying Dutchman. “I LOVE this stupid thing.”

Dolores tried to hide her embarrassment behind a sophisticated adjustment of her gold-rimmed glasses. “It was…the most affordable option that could cover our bases.” The look on her face suggested that she wanted to add the word unfortunately, but the elegant lady kept herself composed as she followed her excited comrade over to the truck. While Darli climbed aboard and parked herself atop the poop deck, Dolores paused beside the vehicle and made a flourishing motion with one hand. The earth beneath her high heels suddenly began to shift, becoming malleable and muddy as it rose upward, lifting a very unfazed Dolores along with it. After a moment she could step onto the truck’s main deck with minimal effort, and the earthy spire sank back down into the ground. “If we’re all present and accounted for,” she announced, looking around. “Let us depart.”

A Chopper, the Kuebiko, and the Flying Dutchman made for a very strange and rather intimidating convoy as the vehicles proceeded north, then hung a left at Ashwat Village. The dirt road took them west, gradually angling more south as the fields of lush farmland gave way to bamboo forest, the long stalks getting thicker, taller, and more plentiful the further the vehicles went.



As they drove south, of course, the Seekers and their new associates were well aware that the APC they were after was coming the other way, full of deadly Jack-5 robots meant to reinforce the G-Corp personnel still in Esaka. There was no telling when the opposing forces would meet, so to maximize their chances of success, Dolores called out to suggest that their caravan stop in a clearing where they could lay in wait for their foes and ambush them once they arrived. With her powers over the earth, she was convinced that she could bog down any vehicle long enough for her allies to strike, no matter how much horsepower it had.

In less than half an hour, Team A’s patience would be rewarded. The Seekers heard their target before they saw it thanks to its loud, heavy-duty tank treads, and a moment later the APC itself roared into view. It stood a solid twelve feet tall, with thick, black armor plating and a forward-mounted cannon. Those treads meant that it would have an easier time escaping Dolores’ mud trap than she would have liked, but they also limited the APC’s top speed. That gave the Seekers a few moments to put together a plan of attack, then put it into practice.



After she and the others finished placing all the gifts they’d wrapped beneath the tree, Sandalphon straightened up and took a deep breath. Between wish inquiry, letter-writing, snowball fights, and gift-wrapping, she’d been doing something or another for many hours now. Her body was stiff and aching all over, with especially creaky and unpleasant joints. Despite her new garments, courtesy of the Christmas clothiers, as well as the parka purchased in Snowdin, she still felt uncomfortably cold. From what she’d gathered about what lay ahead for her, she wouldn’t be feeling much warmer anytime soon, either. Trying not to shiver, the archangel made her way to a bonfire and stood by the roaring flame, her hands gingerly extended for warmth.

There she stood, still as a statue and uninterested in making conversation, until Maeve fluttered out of the workshop with a little cup of soup in hand. The pixie steeled herself, quaffed the foul liquid, spat out a pebble into the snow, and cleared her throat.

“Ahem…is this working?” Thanks to the magic of the Loud Soup, Maeve’s voice resounded throughout the whole village, perfectly audible to everyone. Although it possessed a booming quality, it wasn’t deafeningly loud, so fortunately poor Heismay didn’t need to cover his sensitive ears. “Oh, great! Well, I just wanted to say, thank you so so much to everyone working hard to get the festival ready. It’s now six o’clock, and you know what that means! It’s officially Christmas time! Eat, drink, make merry, and don’t forget to check under the tree to see if you got a special surprise! Merry Christmas, everyone!” Maeve then turned to the elven chef as he strode out of the workshop, trying to lower her magically boosted voice. “Okay, haha, so, how do I…stop being loud now? …Wait, how long!? Oh no…”



Within minutes, the Christmas Village was full of people. All the travelers passing time inside their igloos and lodges emerged in holiday outfits, joining the elves, fleas, and Seekers to mill around what was essentially a festive fairground. Well-fed fire pits all over the place kept pots full of cocoa, cider, coffee, siegbrau, and fleabrew toasty, while stalls offered sizzling fried fish, roast boar, and sumptuous fluffy bread fresh from the ovens. Thanks to Geralt spearheading a team of elven hunters, including the surly Iorveth, the feast even had an awe-inspiring centerpiece: a gigantic Gammoth haunch the size of a sedan, spit-roasted on a tree trunk over a giant bonfire. Once they’d eaten their fill, festival-goers could embark on reindeer sleigh rides, assemble snowmen, sing along with jubilant carolers, and more, all without having to worry about snow implings impeding them.

Perhaps best of all, with the return of his caravan’s thirty youngsters, Fleamaster Mooshka could treat everyone to the grand unveiling of the Flea Games from his newly-constructed stage. With the help of the energetic young fleas (some turbo-charged by overconsumption of fleabrew) attendees could compete for top scores in Flea Bounce, Flea Dodge, and Flea Juggle, with prizes promised for first, second, and third place in all three games.

And of course, at any time visitors to the Christmas Village could check out its titular tree, a towering pine covered in lights and baubles and crowned with a cheerful living star. Presents of all shapes and sizes, colorfully wrapped, were piled high beneath its boughs. Whether by luck or some Christmas miracle, there was actually something there for everyone. When Heismay stopped by, he was surprised to discover a package addressed to him. After tearing off the paper, he discovered a fine anklet that bore the visage of a falcon. Touched by the gift, but without anyone to thank for it, the eugief donned the anklet right away. Just wearing it made him feel a little stronger, a little faster, a little hardier–in short, a little better all around. It was a nice feeling.



Conversely, Sandalphon did not join the merriment immediately, instead content to watch the others enjoy themselves by her fire. After a few minutes, though, Maeve flitted over with a gift in her hands. “Um, hi?” she greeted Sandalphon tentatively, perhaps afraid that her voice would still be amplified by the Loud Soup. When it wasn’t, she sighed with relief and continued. “I wanted to thank you and all your friends in particular! You guys put in a LOT of work to make the festival possible. Thanks to you, I’m absolutely sure there will be enough Christmas spirit to melt the blizzard!” She held the present out to Sandalphon. “Here! I saw this one was for you!”

Taken momentarily aback, Sandalphon carefully accepted the package. “...You’re too kind. Thank you, Maeve.”

“Aw, it was nothing!” The pixie looked away abashedly, a bright smile on her face.

Sandalphon unwrapped the present, her motions opposite the ones she’d done many times before. After a moment, a small scroll of parchment unfurled in her hands. “Seguiriya to your Eyes like Stars,” she read.

“It’s a prayer!” Maeve explained. “A hymn to the night skies. I don’t exactly know what it does, but if anyone can make it work, it’s a miracle-worker like you.”

Silently thinking, Sandalphon slipped the paper into her pocket. She could indeed feel some semblance of holy power in that hymn, not quite what she was used to, but something she could work with. Right now, though, something else was on her mind. “Maeve, may I ask you a question?”

She nodded, smiling. “Of course!”

“What is the meaning of Christmas?” For a moment Maeve floundered in silence, confused by the question, so Sandalphon elaborated. “I can see and appreciate the costumes, the decorations, and so on. I have partaken in festive activities like the gift-giving process, and I would like to enjoy both food and company. But there is…I don’t know, something about Christmas I just don’t quite grasp. Something missing…a reason for doing all this.” She looked over her shoulder at the great blizzard that obstructed the Midnight Walk. “It isn’t just to dispel snowstorms, is it?”

Maeve fidgeted, uneasy. “Well, no…we do it every year, snowstorm or not.”

“So…” Sandalphon could only shrug helplessly, then wince at the aching pain. “What does this celebration…well, celebrate? Is it just for companionship and communal happiness? Giving for giving’s sake?”

At that, Maeve brightened up. “Yeah, sure! I mean, isn’t that enough? Buying people gifts, getting gifts back, fun clothes and decorations, good times and good food with friends and family…it’s all good, right? What else do you want?”

“...I don’t know.” That was a good question. Try as she might, the archangel couldn’t articulate the strange feeling inside her. In the end, there was no reason to overthink or analyze. Everything Maeve said was true enough. There weren’t enough people doing good things in the world just for goodness’ sake, so this festival afforded the Seekers and other travelers alike a chance to strive for everyone’s happiness, even if just for a few hours. That in itself was a precious thing, and Sandalphon decided not to question it further. “Thanks again, Maeve. Please enjoy yourself, I know you’ve been working hard, too.”

The tired pixie beamed at her. “Thank you! And merry Christmas!”

Sandalphon watched her go, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Merry Christmas.”

@Lugubrious @Terry Bogard

Harry Dubois

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

Word Count: 394/289
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Lv: 4 EXP: (5/40)
Location: Metropolis Square/ Opera House

Harry felt awkward when the subject of his performing his duty was mentioned. His eyes were not on Terry; they were staring at the ground. People were always underestimating him, and he felt like a failure for losing the tournament. He wanted to prove his worth to the other seekers. He could be helpful in the group somehow. He closed his eyes now in deep thought on what to do next. Terry should take on Azucena's challenge. Harry listened to Terry’s plan and nodded in agreement. Perhaps they could wait for the right moment to strike, rather than resorting to brute force. But he wasn’t sure if the others agreed with his plan.

He was rubbing his chin as he was thinking, and before long, he opened his eyes again to speak. ” Mhm, I think that would be the right idea. We can wait for the right time to strike. And while you get Azucena, we can deal with those big galoots.” Harry said cocking a thumb towards Gigas’. He, too, wasn’t up for hitting a woman, but perhaps they could kidnap her to use her as bait for the bigger fish. Although he assumed they would not be enthusiastic about that plan.

” As ya said, we have to be as discreet as we can so not to bring the thunder down on us. So I’d be good going with Terry’s idea. I’ll back you guys up if the shit hits the fan.” Harry said, going back to rubbing his chiselled chin. His eyes were looking at Azucena, wanting to knock her off her high horse.

Once they agreed on a plan, Harry hung around in the background. Watching Azucena and her goons, who were standing still as statues. He stopped moving before lighting another cigarette and giving the female fighter a grimace as he puffed out large smoke rings. His eyes watched the other seekers, ready to act the moment they made their move. As he moved through the crowd, he made small talk with them.

Making the crowd chatter by spreading rumours about Azucena and her coffee, and mentioning that her coffee beans are produced by animals eating them and excreting them. Which is why it tastes so terrible. As well as Azucena treating her employees like slaves and mentioning that sometimes she would whip the employees to work faster.

Occasionally throwing insults at her and her coffee. His harsh voice being quite clear in the crowd.

—------------------------------------------------------

Kim agreed that this was a delicate operation. So they were needed to make sure they don’t make any mistakes. He could ask around for ways to get close to her, but doing so would be pretty difficult without getting caught. But he was sure he could get by somehow. ”I will make sure not to arouse any suspicion while asking around. ” Kim said, thinking of his time undercover in a few cases in his youth. Indeed, it would be hard because there was a possibility that Chole’s crew would be suspicious of everyone. But the idea of being caught did excite him somewhat.

His eyes looked at the entrance of the opera house, trying to figure out how get the job done. And without breaking any laws. As a cop, he would handle the situation by questioning people. Of course, now he would have to be cunning with his questioning. Kim began removing any paraphernalia that might give him away as a cop. Putting away any of these items in the bag of holding that Harry let him borrow. After doing all of that, he started making his way towards the back entrance of the opera house.

Sneaking inside, he made his way deeper into the building. Making sure to sneak past anyone who was in the adjacent rooms. He tried to make his way to the opera house's changing room or locker area to get a disguise. And once he got his disguise, he would make his way further into the opera house. Making brief conversation with some of the employees there. Asking questions about Chole and the event that was going on. He made mental notes of any information he could glean from the conversation.

"If staying off the radar is the goal, thats one of my specialties." Roland said, as the problem of being found out by a tight knit group came up. Pulling out his mask, he said. "Some of you know what this does, some of you don't. For those that don't, I'm sorry but I can't explain it until later. I'll support you though if things go south." What Roland couldn't explain, as it was a more public area, was that his distortion blocking mask made everyone see him as a 'passerby', not giving him outright invisibility, but making him so unnoteworthy that even tight nit groups wouldn't really care to take a look at him as long as he didn't do anything to raise suspicion himself. This worked on even those with supernatural ways of seeing or perception. Maybe if someone had hyper perception, a level of perception that would let them see through the Gleeming of Galeem would they be able to bypass Roland's mask but that seemed to be exceptionally rare. Even then, he wouldn't be known as Roland but 'that guy' if spotted or attacking someone meaning he could just shift back into the shadows and be forgotten soon after. For those he explained all this to, they could see him as he was, Roland, and were immune to the distortion blocking properties of the mask but that was only Captain Falcon at the moment.

With his mask on, Roland made his way to the staff entrance and just walked right on in. He made his way to the janitor closet and grabbed a broom and as he moved through the area taking in the conversations going on back stage, he'd pretend to sweep. No one would pay him much mind at all as he used his own way of stealth very different from Kim's to get information and figuring out what his next step would be.

Any heckling of Anji (the would be rotten as per the race only Rika and Jr had actually partaken in) was immediately thrown out the window when he rolled up in a pirate ship on wheels, because both kids were 100% on his and Darli’s side when it came to their opinion of this thing.

”That. Is. So. Awsome!” Jr yelled with delight at the sight of it, throwing his hands up in amazement and then wildly gesturing at the absurd(ly cool) vehicle.

His sister was a little more reserved in her appreciation, but her calling it ” super neat” was high praise indeed when coming from the mouth of the more reserved royal siblings.

As a result of this delight, the pair spend a fair amount of their ride over to the bamboo forest debating how they could acquire the vehicle from the UN. Theft was on the table, of course, but both had just enough sensibility between them to put that as a last resort to be done right before they skipped town. However with the less confrontational options of buying it (they were fairly broke after sponsoring Tora) or trading for it (none of the seeker’s vessels were really passenger carriers) mostly off of the table, they were going to need to come up with something clever.

As such, there were only really two possibilities, they thought. One, get a whole bunch of loot over the next few days, or, much faster, steal the apc instead of just completely wrecking it. If they did that, then they could either convince the UN to swap for it, or sell it for at least some of the cash they’d need to get their wonderful new ride.

This was easier said than done however, but the pair spent the latter half of the ride over coming up with a plan to do just that.

As such, with plans already all set upon arrival the intervening wait was incredibly boring, especially for Rika due to her unorthodox ambush spot. Once the apc began to churn through the mud however, the pair eagerly leapt into action.

First from the forest sprung Bowser Jr, footfalls hitting foliage and then sailing shoes surfing over the mud as he closed in. Once in range, he summoned the hand of Blodia to reach down and grab the tracks on one side of the vehicle, its fingers slipping through the mud as it did this move. It would then attempt to hoist the APC and flip it over onto its side.

It wasn’t alone in this.

From below Rika, in the form of the Beast, burst out of the ground where she had burrowed, horns ramming into the underside of the machine and legs scrambling and clawing at dirt and mud to try and find grip and force. Alongside her rose her twisted white whale that had dove deep into the solid before breaching. Finally Jr himself forged a shield of iron, wedged this under a track, and then with Olympian strength heaved with all his might (and minimal stature) to try and add just a bit more power to the combined efforts of the APC tipping team.

If that didn’t look to be enough, a more destructive Strikers could be brought in, namely a chainsaw slash from Kaw man and a clever strike from the Vespikan Ichor Queen, both delivered to the top of the vehicle’s side, to try and a brief bit of extra force to the hoist.

The Christmas celebrations were a thing that Mokou could never get back into. Even though she had lended a hand wrapping gifts, decorating, and even gathering some fish for the festivities, she ultimately found herself hanging around the edges of the fairground, sitting next to a smaller fire with her Spheal, which she had taken to calling Keine, currently munching away at one of the fish that had been collected and cooked for the festivities.

From where she sat, Mokou just watched everyone else. Distant memories did come to her, from times both before this holiday was regularly celebrated and memories afterwards. An immortal like her was hard to give gifts for, and it was even harder for her to figure out good gifts for people of shorter lives. One of the flaws of immortality was eventually becoming out of touch with those around you, and this holiday always made her remember that fact painfully.

“Um, excuse me miss! Are you a… ‘Fuji…Wara no Mokou’?” a young girl suddenly approached, snapping the phoenix from her thoughts, “We’re handing out presents and this one is addressed to you”

Mokou herself blinks for a second, but shrugs, leaning forward to take the gift from the girl, “Yeah, but just call me Mokou. Surprised that there was something for me, seeing as how I just got here” Mokou comments, earning a shrug in response from the girl,

“Well, it’s the season of giving! Everyone deserves to get something. Gotta get back to delivering, enjoy your present Miss Mokou!” with that the girl turns on her heel jogging back to the center tree to collect her next batch of presents.

Holding the package in her hand, Mokou didn’t waste much time opening it… And what she found inside the paper wrapping surprised her. A ball of burning ice, radiating freezing cold and blazing heat at the same time. Something that should have incinerated the package it was contained in without issue. Keine looked up from their fish, sensing the strange ball and letting out an inquisitive “Sphea?”



After a few moments, Mokou let out a small sigh, the Frozen Flame ball vanishing as she stored the weapon away. Things were always a curiosity, even with festivals. It wasn’t anything grand, but… Mokou could appreciate the extra fire power.

It would come in handy in the days ahead, at the very least.

With all the work done, soon came the big reason many people liked christmas, the presents! While this was something Sectonia was interested in, having been one that wrapped a few of them, she already knew what some people got. That and Blazermate was much more interested in the whole gift thing than her, as Sectonia was more using the festival to relax, or at least as much as she could with it being cold out, being amused at seeing what the other seekers got. At least the ones she didn't know about already. That was until Sectonia got her own.



Seeing the gift wrapping, she noticed it was one of the ones Sandalphon had wrapped. The fact it was a hand mirror, something Sectonia herself had been looking for, that also had a bit of magic to it itself, was the perfect gift for her. Now she could keep her looks up and more accurate to what she wanted herself to look like to keep herself beautiful than relying on her Antlers and even when not gazing at herself in the mirror, it had some combat abilities as well. A very thoughtful gift.

While Sectonia found the festivities cute, as the stage was more for games and not singing or anything she just relaxed as she watched others try some games. With her size she'd probably be good at the juggling but she decided to let others that would be interested in games to be the ones to play them. Plus she was a bit busy touching herself up with her new hand mirror.

Blazermate found her gift was a bit small compared to everyone else. It was wrapped fairly nicely, being one of the ones Sectonia's antlers had wrapped. It looked like a crystal from the outside, but when unwrapped, Blazermate found...



A strange bottle. AT first Blazermate thought it was a food item, and thus a prank since she couldn't use them. but then she read the card on it and found it was some kind of oil/perfume that'd help her in general. It wasn't clear except 'make you stronger', so she shrugged and applied the sticky nectar to herself. At first she wondered how something sticky could even help her, but it didn't stay sticky for long and she found she was a tad bit faster. Not a whole lot, but she was a bit stronger. Considering it seemed to be in a perfume bottle, maybe someone was trying to subtly tell Blazermate she should be more lady-like? But who? Well, Sectonia would be the prime suspect, but she'd be much more up front about it knowing her.

When it came to festivity games, Blazermate gave her try at Flea Dodge. Being an agile small flyer, she had an easy time with this one as while eventually the fleas started piling up and the platforms kept shifting, around half the fleas would aim for her and the other half were trained to hit the platforms. Platforms Blazermate didn't need to ever touch letting her dodge fleas for a good 97 fleas before the giant flea, hyped up on flea brew, came barreling at a weird angle and managing to clip and knock Blazermate out of the air unto the ground.

When it came to the other two games, Blazermate wasn't really able to play Flea Bounce, as the idea was to bounce on the fleas which she wasn't very good at, and flea juggle was just hard even if she was fast. So she didn't do too well on those ones.

After spending the day lumber chopping, ornament hanging, and then hunched over a work bench toy creating Edward found himself in dire need of both a stretch and a rest. Servicing the former first, the man went for a slow trudge through the snow, though his military mind inevitably stamped a purpose onto this leisure and found him checking in on the stage coach and its bestial guards.

Said creatures had had a fine enough time, for the most part lazing and/or grazing the day away (indeed there wasn’t much foliage left around the coach at all now that hadn't ended up in one stomach or another) but, like him, looked like they could do with a stretch themselves.

Also a meaty meal, in the Somnacanth derived beast’s cases.

As a result, the man didn’t roll up to the festivities alone, but instead attended by a veritable herd of beasts, be they impossible, monstrous or pal-y. Such a force, he worried, might somewhat upset the festivities, but as it turned out that no small part of the elvish population conformed to the nature loving stereotype he was ever so aware of.

Between carnivorouse and herbiverouse steeds and reindreed galore, many an elf had brought their animal companion to join in the fun.

Admittedly none had brought a double digit count worth of animals along, but the seeker’s impossible creatures had been visibly present enough that they’d been taken into account when filling the animal feeding section.

There was even a seaweed and sushi selection specially prepared for the traffikrab. This, as it turned out, was a promised reward for putting up with the festive getup Edward had found the monster sulkily adorned in.

It turned out this wasn’t the only favoritism heaped upon the strange monster, as after a well deserved meal, it turned out there was a gift under the tree just for it.

As such, after it had ripped the wrapping to shreds with its claws, it ditched the santa hat and donned its new flashy cyber cone for all to see.

An examination of the note revealed that it had, apparently, been nicknamed Traffy by the anonymous gift giver. Or perhaps it knew the creature better than he did, given that he found the monster did indeed respond to that name.



Had the impossible creatures been capable of it, there might well have been some jealousy going on at this point. The thoroughbred Reindrix was certainly feeling some, though it squarely blamed Edward for this state of affairs, the man having kept the localised freezing hazard in its sphere all this time instead of letting it show off to the locals.

The fact that Edward had, as it turned out, received one of if not the biggest gifts under the tree (big enough to fit several envious elven children inside it) only threatened to add to the frosty pal’s ire.

The man himself had the good graces to feel a little embarrassed by this, muttering ”Well this is quite absurd, what in the world could this even be?” under his breath as he used a sword to methodically cut the paper so it could be removed in reusable sheets.

Within he found a very large cardboard box, which itself necessitated careful sword based opening. Once the seals were cut, and the lids spread open, it revealed a rainbow worth of treats that bemused Edward to no end. Sure he enjoyed the odd baked good, who didn’t, but he was by no means this much of a sweet tooth.

However when picked one up and examined the packaging he gave an ”ahhh, I see” as all became clear

He turned then, still holding the little cake, and asked the little audience of envious elf children in a cheerful tone ”Who here would like to help me with treating our animal friends with these pokepuffs?” which got a chorus of excited agreement.

That, then, was how Edward found himself operating his own impromptu bit of post meal entertainment, namely an animal interaction and feeding experience. It was, after all, the only way to actually make a dent in the 100 pokepuffs he’d received with any sort of efficiency.

---

Amatarasu gave a bark of agreement to the general plan of doing something now that also wasn’t too drastic. Best, she agreed, that they use the cover of this little self promotion stunt to get their job done. Not that she intended to play fair, mind. If they did end up going on stage, she’d do what she could with her ink to bolster the power of their competitor, be it Terry or otherwise. This wasn’t the tournament after all, she didn’t need to play fair. Indeed, being semi-blatant in her aid might even further bolster their point, as what was stimulating drink when compared to a divine being backing up your punches?

Still, there were the Yokai to consider. They’d see through her meddling in a way the mortals would not, and that would need some managing.

The sight of the bear in the apron with his own rival coffee brand gave her an idea however. Sure, the yokai would know she was doing it, but if they were trying to point her out, maybe she could pull a fast one and get the mortals to be confused about which white furred being was responsible for their fighter’s supernatural performance.

Plus, besides all that low cunning, she was also genuinely curious as to the nature of the bear’s woes, and hoped that this little plan of hers to get the people to mistake her aid for his coffee might give him a boost. As such, her method of approach was fairly simple, the wolf padding through the crowd that Harry was stirring up and then sitting herself down next to the bear, to whom she directed a head tilt of enquiry and an impartial ear to listen to his troubles.

—
How many times had Sakura fought Rufus? Not that many. But she recognized him when she saw him. It’s funny how meeting someone from the same world as her made her feel like she was seeing a friendly face, even if she really barely knew the guy. But Rufus was a nice guy, and had an interesting fighting style. When they first met, Sakura was clearly better than he was and beat him rather easily, despite his unique moves. The second time they fought, Sakura won again, and she asked if he could show her how to ride a motorcycle. Since, y’know, motorcycles are awesome, and Rufus was really good at riding his.

They hadn’t fought since then, but she did know that he won a major tournament back in the real world before all this World of Light stuff happened. She knew he was on the fast track to being a really skilled fighter. That all depend on what ‘version’ of Rufus this was, though.

One thing was a constant among all versions of Rufus, though. As Sakura stood here, sizing him up, Rufus hadn’t shut one for even one single second.

“I can see you took my advice, it’s a little ridiculous to be walking around and fighting in a school uniform. Maybe if you were in school I could see it but you seriously couldn’t even find some time to change into something a little more fashionable? Look at me and my cool suit, for example. So I’m glad you took my advice, kid, real glad, because now you look good like me. That’s only going to make our battle real impressive. I know I just called you a kid, but, I don’t like bullying kids. Not that I was ever bullied, of course, with my charisma I ruled the playground. But you’re not a kid, you’re a street fighter like me, so it’s just a tournament, and we’re both just following the rules. Are we clear on that? We’re clear on that. What was your name again?”

Sakura opened her mouth.

“Sakura, right? I’m Rufus. Do you happen to know a guy named Ken Masters? He’s fighting in this tournament, too. I’m gonna beat him in a fight, and in order to do that, I gotta beat you. So it’s nothing personal, I just have to win so I can go to fight Ken Masters. That spoonfed rich boy isn’t the best fighter in America, I am.”

Sakura closed her mouth. Sometimes, when Sakura got nervous or excited, she could be a bit of a chatterbox. But this was on a whole other level.

”...How do you talk so much? Don’t you ever get thirsty?” Sakura asked.

“Hah, you sound like my girl Candy when we first met. God, she’s beautiful. We’re probably the most beautiful couple in America. And I’m a pretty humble guy so you know that’s kind of a serious thing to say. She’s sweet as Candy, too, and it’s not just about looks, though she is gorgeous, but she has a great personality, too. She’s funny, and kind, and likes motorcycles just like me. When I win this tournament I’m gonna go back and sweep her off her feet. You have a boyfriend? If you wanna get a boyfriend, you gotta let ‘em sweep you off your feet. Or sweep him off his feet. Point is, some one has to get swept. And I don’t just mean in the way you’re gonna try to sweep me in this fight. I mean romantic sweeping.”

”...Okay.”

The long and short of it was that Sakura won the battle, two rounds in a row.

That’s the kind of numerical story that doesn’t tell the whole thing. Both rounds were exceptionally close, and Sakura counts her victory in the second round as a spot of luck. She barely secured the ring out via an unfortunate interaction that ended up with a mostly healthy Rufus getting knocked away before he could recover. Spin kick versus dive kick leads to a trade, but the aerial Rufus was sent back much farther. A victorious Sakura collapsed into a sitting position, dizzy as all get out.

”...We take those!” Sakura cheered, raising her hands above her head, before falling onto her back.

Rufus had fought like a whirling madman, striking at Sakura with moves such as the Galactic Tornado, the Messiah Kick, and Spectacle Romance. In the second round Sakura had narrowly survived an encounter with his Super Move, the dazzling Space Opera Symphony. Rufus was fast, faster than Sakura. Despite what one might assume when looking at the rotund Rufus and the slender Sakura, in this match up, he was the speedster and she was the powerhouse. In the end, aggression had to be met with aggression, and it was in close quarters combat that Sakura prevented Rufus from getting the momentum he needed to overwhelm her defences.

“Daaah, crap.” Rufus sat up, scratching his head. “Well, good fight anyway. It’s like my master always says, defeat is the first step towards victory. That’s what a good master would say, anyway. I wouldn’t know, I never really had a master, I’m self taught. If you run into Ken Masters, give him an ass kicking and send him on down to me in losers bracket, okay? I still got a score to settle with that guy. See you around!” With that, Rufus sprinted off into the city.

Propping herself up on her hands, Sakura panted. Her battles had only gotten tougher, and now victory couldn’t be expected by any reasonable metric. But Sakura had to know in her heart she would win, otherwise, she would lose.

”I’m so close..! I have to keep going.”

The Opera House that Grima found herself in, following the directions and plans she overheard from the Wine Cup Hold’s meeting. She had arrived shortly after her match against Heart, sticking to the shadows as she observed this ‘Lucky Chloe’s’ entourage prepare. The sight of all the garish and loud posters and decor filled Grima with disgust. Mortals lived with too much noise, and it was always the loudest that were the most aggravating to know existed. But, somehow, this Chloe had connections, and her fall would be critical to disrupting the balance in Esaka. And that alone was enough to put her revulsion to the side… For now.

Nearby, she could see the Seekers, or at least a small section of them, speaking to a large man, a small smile forming on her lips before she pushed herself off the shadows she was hiding in, stepping into the light with purposeful steps. One of the security robots, standing in a group of three, looked over at her as she approached, visibly making a sighing motion before turning to her, “Excuse me ma’am, this is-”

“This is where Miss Chloe is performing, right? Oh, I’ve been so excited I can hardly contain myself~” Grima interrupts, the dark, gloomy figure that she normally is being exchanged for an overly enthused fan. It was a performance, one that Grima loathed, but it was a flawless one that, even with her attire, was enough to throw the robots before her off. In fact, the suddenness of her exclamation caused the robot and their partners to pause, looking at each other before giving a hesitant nod, “Ah, fantastic! I don’t get into the city much, but I’ve seen some of Miss Chloe’s performances in passing and I just had to come by to give my full support to her newest one!”

The lead robot raises a hand, scratching the back of their head in momentary confusion, “Uh… Yeah, Lucky Chloe’s always happy to have the support of her fans, miss..?” they began, only to be interrupted by another robot who took a step forward, whilst the third narrowed their eyes as if trying to read Grima,

“Yep! If you’re here to see her performance, we’re just getting set up. D’you have a ticket for the show already?”

At that, Grima feigned a sheepish expression, rubbing the back of her head, “Ah, a ticket… I’m afraid in my haste, I may have forgotten, I apologize for the trouble” she states, causing the front robot to sigh once again,

“Sorry then, we can’t let you in without a ticket” he comments… Only for the second robot to turn to the first,

“Actually chief, I say we do. Chloe’s always talking about giving back to the fans, and she seems like a good addition to the crowds”

“We shouldn’t be giving free passes to folks that just come by-”

“Chief, trust me, I think it’s fine. I mean look at her, I’m sure the boss herself would tell us to let her through with that much energy!” the second robot comments, earning a groan of annoyance from the lead,

“Fine, you’re free to go in. Just don’t cause problems, and don’t try to get backstage, okay?”

“I understand perfectly! Thank you so much~” Grima comments, giving a deep bow before walking past the trio into the opera house, the joy on her face quickly vanishing after passing them. The first step of getting in was done, now she just had to figure out where this ‘Lucky Chloe’ was.

The evening of festivities finally came to a natural conclusion as the larger gathering of crowds of townspeople began dissipating later into the evening. Ramattra and Tenna, like other members of their squad, had no purpose to eat, but joined the others in company, as the larger number of Seekers gathered at one large round table. Ramattra listened to the chatter amongst his allies in silence, trying his best to find a relevant conversation point to his interest. Tenna, however, was among the loudest at the dinner, boisterously singing along with nearby choirs and practically bouncing off the walls with excitement.

Once Sandaphlon had exchanged her farewells with Christmas Villages’ lead representative, Ramattra felt a strange sensation in his mainframe. It was odd for the stoic commander to explain, but somehow he felt oddly content and calm alongside his fellow adventurers, and with the storm finally having passed, he chalked the odd feeling down to some weird magic that had altered his mind.

“Bah. The longer we wait here, the more chance of running into an actual storm.” The Omnic protested his internal jolliness, being the first at the table to help get the Stagecoach back on the road. While there was no point in the inexperienced Omnic repairing any faults aboard, he knew that reigning in the Shieldrixes would be a welcome task.

Then, another realization hit him. Looking at the faces among the Seekers, one in particular stood out with the faint red glow of his eyes and fog-patched skin. Tenna, as nosy as usual, saw the hesitation in the Omnic’s face as he connected his stare towards Layton’s ongoing possession. A silent exchange happened between the CRT and Ramattra before the stoic robot called for his attention. “Professor. A word with you.”

As same as the rest of the day, Layton found himself once more in the company of the Seekers, with any questions on his mind left unasked in the face of the holiday celebration. No point bringing down the mood by grilling his new acquaintances. As he was enjoying the food and company, he followed Ramattra’s call, a cup of peppermint tea still in hand.

”Merry Christmas to you,” he said in greeting, holding his teacup in a mock cheer. ”Was there something you wanted from me?”

The Omnic turned his gaze to Sandaphlon, almost as if indirectly asking ’what do we do about him?’ A stern nod was all that could be communicated between the two, before the Archangel’s attention was directed at the town’s chatty Christmas pixie, a silent ‘do what you need to’ exchanged. Tenna pulled at the loincloth-like tentacle appendage on Ramattra’s waist. With an annoyed gaze, the Omnic was surprised by helpful information. “If this newbie needs to be added to our party, just knock some sense into him! That’s what that bug lady did for me!”

The commander scratched his chin, still putting together his plan to “recruit” Layton. It seemed like, without any nearby threats, naturally befriending the Professor with a Friend Heart would be inconvenient. He gestured for Tenna and Layton to follow him in the direction of the Stagecoach, as he began collecting the Shieldrix's rope, collecting the steeds and mounting them to the vehicle. “I was curious about what your plan was, seeing as you’ve helped us across the village today. Did you want to take the journey to Moon Mountain with us? Truly? There is a lot to consider. The road will be harsh in many regards, but you’ve earned some trust among our ranks.”

Tenna tailed behind the Omnic, a huge grin spread across his display as he brought two well-wrapped gifts to Ramattra’s attention. “There’s one for all of us! Even you, detective! I uh… Forgot yours, though. You should grab it later!” The commander accepted the gift, begrudgingly; however, he was curious about its contents.

”Ah, thank you,” Layton addressed Tenna, somewhat offhandedly. He considered the question Ramattra posed, arms crossed and eyes closed. After this moment of deliberation, he said, ”if I may ask a question myself… earlier you called your traveling group ‘the Seekers’. From what I’ve read, Moon Mountain is quite a desolate place. What is it, exactly, that you are seeking there?”

Ramattra observed the professor with a cautious size-up, still having to withhold his opinion on humans. He considered his next words carefully as Tenna sat to the side, offering hay into the mouth of the impossible creatures mounted to the Stagecoach. “We’re investigating a large-scale threat to the region. We’d like to put an end to our target for personal reasons, although the road ahead won’t be purely fight after fight. Your skills could be invaluable to us, but we travel under harsh conditions.” Honestly, the Omnic was more skeptical about the man still Gleaming rather than being human. The nature of Galeem’s curse was still confusing to him.

The Professor wasn’t blind to the tension in the air, though he had no way of telling where it was coming from. Was the Omnic just being protective of his group and their goal? Layton was a stranger, after all. ”I see.” Trying to lighten the atmosphere, he smiled and let out a small chuckle. ”I can’t promise I’d be as invaluable as you claim. I’m simply a professor of archaeology. But if what you say is true, I can’t in good conscience turn down a chance to help.”

“Don’t let the PARTY-POOPER scare ya off! I’ve been here about as long as he has, and I’m doing just fine!” Tenna chipped in, tucking his thumb under the collar of his coat proudly. Ramattra’s cold stare turned to the chipper Television Set as he sighed under his breath.

“The choice, of course, is yours. So long as you’re capable of fending for yourself when the moment calls for it, there shouldn’t be any significant threats. You could see some more of the world?” He suggested, unsure if more traveling was in the Detective’s agenda, as he had only known the man for a few hours.

”I can hold my own if the need arises,” Layton answered, ”so if you’ll have me, then I would like to join you on your journey to Moon Mountain.” He couldn’t help but feel like there was something more left unsaid… but he knew not to pry, not this soon into their ‘partnership’ at least. If it was important, the details would come to light eventually.

The grip on his staff tightened. For a moment, Ramattra pondered how to handle the new Seekers’ dilemma with Galeem’s curse. It would be easy enough to just quickly incapacitate Layton, though the thought for needless violence seemed off-putting. He released the tension from his staff, now directing Tenna to wrangle the group of beasts to a side road they could later take. “Then of course. Welcome to our cause. I’m unsure when we’re set to travel, but I’m sure the townsfolk could use more of our support.”

”I suppose we’ll have plenty to occupy ourselves with, then.”

Fast-paced, eye-catching matches continued to rage on all throughout the Pools tier, the stakes higher than ever now that over half of the tournaments’ total roster had fallen to the Losers’ Bracket if not completely eliminated, but right now Big Band couldn’t get distracted. Despite claiming victory, he felt beat after his last match, thanks in large part to the respirator tubes sliced through by that freakish tiger’s claws during his second bout. And unfortunately, he wasn’t done fighting for today just yet, with at least one more pools match in the cards before he could call it quits for the day.

That was simply the price to pay for registering in the Tiered City’s most popular tournament; in retrospect, that decision seemed like a bad idea for him in particular. With over two hundred and fifty competitors to chew through before the top sixteen were decided, the World Warrior tournament demanded up to ten pools matches from its participants (over the course of two days, but still), compared to the three or four that faced King of Fighters or Mortal Kombat aspirants. And judging by the ambient chatter from the yokai and other spectators, this week’s tournament series was actually a slow one, with markedly less involvement than usual. Then again, even if the ‘kombatants’ looking to upstage Shao Khan had fewer fights to get through, any bout in that lethal league could be their last. Band was no stranger to putting his life on the line, but in his line of work a man only reached middle age if he knew how to pick his battles. Better to leave deadly duels to the likes of Ms Fortune, if the feral hadn’t flown the coop.

The bottom line was that the detective’s schedule permitted him only a small window in which he could try and get some much-needed repairs, so he had to hustle. Moving as quickly as he could given his large size, the man once known as Ben Birdland made a beeline for the nearest lift to Esaka’s Low Tier. He didn’t have the money with which he could solicit the services of even Mid-Tier engineers, after all, so he’d have to make do with some cut-rate craftsman. As a proud and somewhat old-fashioned fellow, Band didn’t consider the possibility of calling up a fellow Seeker or even home base aboard the Avenger for assistance, not when he considered himself more than capable of figuring things out on his own. He had yet to really open up to any of them, after all, even if he’d been getting along with Zenkichi so far. What I wouldn’t do to have Peacock around right now, he thought to himself glumly. The little scamp was no end of trouble, but as one of the few older adults at Lab 8, he’d naturally assumed a quasi-parental role for all of the experimental children brought into the ASG program, and Peacock was no different. He wondered if she was still in the Metro, causing problems for the local Nyakuza or that meddling Consul N. With her zany powers and cadre of cartoon companions, Peacock could more than fend for herself, but Band would have liked to know she was okay.

Within a few minutes, Band reached the Low Tier. Compared to that morning it was a little less hectic around town. By now, plenty of Low Tier fighters -generally the least favored in every tournament- had been eliminated. For those brave (or foolhardy) enough to test their luck in Mortal Kombat, a number had no doubt been killed, but the prevailing mood seemed to be one of disappointment rather than horror. It was a chilling reminder to Band of the warped perspective most Esakans seemed to have on death. There were still a few hubs of activity here and there as spectators and yokai kept an eye on the few Low Tier fighters still in the running, but for the most part this tier seemed to be back to business as usual, the same as yesterday when the Seekers of Light first arrived. Band assumed that once the tournaments progressed to Saturday and especially Sunday, things could get more heated again, but for now he could focus on the task at hand.

The detective busied himself scouring the streets, hunting for any sign of a workshop where he could get fixed up. As he’d come to expect, the Low Tier was a bit of a mess. Inconsistent and poorly organized, it was the result of organic, haphazard growth over any kind of urban planning. Many buildings were so repeatedly repurposed that one could easily walk into what looked like a hair salon and find a laundromat, or see a two-story home converted into a hotpot restaurant. It didn’t help that whatever phenomenon translated Esakans’ speech didn’t apply to written words, and that no standardized language reigned down here as it did in the higher tiers. Band could read the signage of about one building in five. This made for slow going, and as the minutes flew by, his frustration began to mount.

That changed, whenever, when Band spotted an oddly familiar mop of spiky blonde hair while tramping through an outdoor market. It belonged to a boy of about fifteen years of age, with electric blue eyes, scars, and robotic limbs that featured distinctive copper coils. Band blinked, his eyebrows rising. He recognized the boy, not just as someone from his own world, but as someone he personally knew. “Leduc?” The kid was too far away to hear him and, judging by the bags on his arms, headed home with some fresh groceries. Of course, that begged the question of what the young man’s home was, since in Band’s experience there had only ever been one answer: Lab 8.

Band began to tail Leduc, following him from the market through the dingy, cluttered labyrinth of Esaka’s Low Tier. A massive cyborg like him wasn’t exactly subtle, especially when his labored breathing sounded like an industrial AC unit, but Band was no slouch when it came to doing his job. Leduc was by no means oblivious, though. From afar Band saw him put into practice the lessons that he himself had taught him, so it was only a matter of time before the boy spotted Band a ways behind him. For a moment he froze, not believing his eyes, but after a second or two he came running, carefully maneuvering around pedestrians. With a broad smile, Band headed his way, aided by the tendency of the average pedestrian to carefully maneuver away from him.

The two cyborgs met with a clang in the middle of a hazy street as Leduc tried (and failed) to wrap his metal arms around the detective’s bell-shaped chassis. “Ben!?” The boy exclaimed, uncommon joy spread across his face. “I can’t believe it’s really you. I thought we’d never see you again.”

“Been a while huh, kid?” Staring up at the sky as he extended spindly mechanical limbs to hug Leduc back, Band thanked his lucky stars that something in this insane, messed-up world had conspired to reunite the two misfits once more. “How you doin’? You out here on your own?”

Leduc shook his head. “No, there’s a bunch of us here. Hive, Stanley, Ileum, the littles…”

“Avian?” Band ventured tentatively.

“No…” Leduc seemed disappointed himself. “What about you? Have you seen Peacock?”

A pang of guilt stabbed at Band’s heart. “Er…yeah. We were together for a good long while, fightin’ side by side. She wanted to stick around in a town full of cats, though.” He paused. “Don’t you worry though, she’s in good hands. Or good paws, I guess,” he lied.

The boy seemed relieved. “That’s good to hear.” When he stepped back, though, he noticed the state of Band’s instruments, and concern spread over his face. “What happened to you? You okay?”

A wheezing chuckle escaped the detective. “It’s a long story. If Stanley’s around, though, I really oughta pay him a visit. Think you can lead the way?”

“Leave it to me.” With a nod of understanding, as serious and mature as ever, Leduc turned and jogged away. Clonk, clonk, clonk, clonk. Big Band followed him, never imagining he’d be so eager to see that old shark again.



As Harry filtered through the crowd, sowing unrest and dissatisfaction with Azucena and her shady backers, Amaterasu approached the polar bear. She found him highly disgruntled, and while he wasn’t happy about Es or the other Coffee Challenge participants who’d blown him off, the bulk of his dissatisfaction seemed to be directed toward Azucena. When the goddess gave him an inquisitive head tilt, the bear looked down at his fellow white-furred creature with a smile. Though of comparably human intelligence himself, he ironically didn’t seem to consider the possibility that Amaterasu was sentient as well, as he unabashedly spilled his guts.

“Hey there, wolfy. You’re a pretty one,” he complimented her, before slouching down and sighing with a mean look at Azucena. “Much prettier than her, both inside and out, I reckon. It’s just not fair, damn it. The company sponsorin’ that Azucena lady is downright crooked. First they set up a new shop right across from mine and undercut me. I’ve gotta make a living so I can’t lower my prices any, but they could take the hit if it meant stealin’ away my business. And when that wasn’t enough, the bastards went and bought out the buildin’ I’m leasin’ to run my shop in and jacked up my rates. Now I’m stuck sellin’ coffee outta my truck on the street corner, and just when customers are finally startin’ to find me again, guess where she decides to hold this stunt of hers?”

The bear hung his head, disconsolate. “It ain’t fair, man. Big companies just don’t play the same game us li’l guys do. At this point I’d be better off findin’ a zoo an pretendin’ I’m a dumb animal.” Rubbing his face with one massive paw, he held up the other placatingly. “Uh, no offense. Anyway, it looks like she’s got everyone eatin’ out of her hand. If I had half a chance, why, I’d stuff her in my truck and give her a nice vacation in Everdream Valley to get her damn priorities straight…”

At the same time, Azucena was playing the crowd, looking for more challengers to take her on. Terry didn’t seem to be in any hurry to challenge her, though, so with nothing else going on it was only a matter of time before she caught wind of Harry’s rabble-rousing. “Ay, cabrón!” she called out angrily, jumping down from her podium. “What’s the big idea, huh? I treat my employees like I treat my coffee: with all the tender love and care they deserve! If you’ve got something to say to me, why not let your fists do the talking, eh?” Although Harry seemed to have been making a little headway, the celebrity’s straightforward and larger-than-life manner seemed to be winning the crowd back.

With a winning smile, Azucena crossed her arms. “And I’ll have you know, even though we don’t make kopi luwak in Peru, ‘cause we don’t have civets in South America, that coffee’s the most expensive in the whole world. A real delicacy! Not as good as the Azucena Blend, of course~” She winked.



Using a variety of means, from Kim’s guileful disguise to Roland’s anomalous equipment to Grima’s charismatic charade (plus sheer dumb luck), a handful of people who really had no business being there managed to infiltrate the opera house. At this point, with Chloe’s performance over a day away, it was still very much in the setup phase. It took a lot of legwork and elbow grease to convert a stage for classical performance into the venue for a pop star’s concert, after all. There were a number of both human and robotic staff members around, attending to various preparations, but overall the mood appeared to be pretty casual, neither too secure or too strict. If it had, Kim and Grima’s efforts probably wouldn’t have cut it. As things stood, though, Chloe’s staff seemed to reflect her own happy-go-lucky nature. Just from looking around, the only indicator of the pop star’s shady financiers was the scale of her upcoming performance.

The three infiltrators made their way throughout the structure, visiting different groups of workers. Getting any concrete information about Chloe herself, especially while remaining relatively inconspicuous, wasn’t exactly easy. The number one reason for this seemed to be Chloe herself, who seemed to be a rather whimsical and irresponsible person, troublesome even for her own staffers to keep tabs on. Most of the people here, when not concerned with their immediate tasks, seemed to be more focused on the tournaments. Some people were watching on their phones (whether or not they were currently on break) while others chatted with one another or yokai haunting the opera house, in keeping with the giant skeletal creature that occupied the main theater. As for Chloe’s whereabouts, most folks assumed that she was out somewhere in the High Tier taking a late lunch, but where was anyone’s guess.

About twenty minutes after the Seekers arrived, though, there was some commotion in the front lobby. A tough-looking Brazillian with stylish dreadlocks and a leopard-print jacket made to leave, only to be stopped by a couple of Chloe’s security bots, headed by an American in a black suit and gold jewelry. “This is bullshit!” Eddy exclaimed, venting his frustration. “It’s ridiculous that I’m stuck as a second-rate backup dancer for some ditzy little girl in the first place, all ‘cause she beat me one time. Capoeira isn’t just a dance; it’s a martial art, a cultural tradition! Not some cheap sideshow. And to demand my presence for her rehearsals, only to not show up all day…I’ve had it up to here!.” He scowled at the singer’s head of security, his scorn clear as day. “And to have you here standing in my way, ‘brother’. All that gold, and you’re still just a common sellout. Where is she!?”

“Back it up, Gordo,” Bruce snapped. “You ain’t no brother of mine, and I ain’t gotta tell you where Chloe is. She’s out to lunch, and that’s as good as you’re gettin’. If you don’t like this little arrangement you got goin’ on with G-Corp, maybe you shouldn’t-a gotten your ass whooped by a ditzy little girl to begin with. Now how ‘bout you scramble like an egg, ‘fore you get folded like an omelette?”

Eddy looked like he wanted to beat Bruce to a pulp there and then, but some unseen factor seemed to stay his hand. He turned away, swearing in Portuguese so vehemently that the Heavenly Principles didn’t even bother translating, and strode away to fume elsewhere.



As expected, Dolores’ geomancy alone wasn’t enough to halt the APC thanks to its heavy-duty treads. The shifting, softened earth did, however, slow it down enough to give her new allies a chance to spring their trap. With a whole host of different abilities under their belt, the Koopa Kids had just the tools for the job. The mitt of a massive mechanical Striker lifted one set of treads off the ground, which left the APC a sitting duck for the subterranean assault of Rika (metamorphosed into a giant centipede by her special cassette player) and her albino abyssal striker. Their combined strength, even though Junior’s iron shield just sank into the mud, was enough to tip the balance. Due to its rather broad weight distribution, the armored vehicle couldn’t really tip onto its side and stand on its axle, no more than a coin could stand on its side. Instead it tipped all the way over, completely upended, and slammed back into the sticky sediment upside-down, helpless as a flipped turtle.

“All right!” Darli Dagger’s boots hit the dirt as she hefted her oversized saw on her shoulder. Reconfiguring her weapon into an enormous drill, she sprinted forward toward the APC. “Time to crack this can open…huh?” Of course, the moment she got too close her boot sank into the soil softened by Dolores powers, stopping her in her tracks. “Oh, yeah. Dolores, hurry up and get the ground working again, will ya?”

The elegant lady looked annoyed, her measured irate expression suggesting a long line of similar interactions in the past. “Just give me a moment, it takes time to wring out the water content…”

“Ladies,” Anji chided jokingly. With a flourish of his fans, he summoned a cloud of radiant blue butterflies to ride upon and soared toward the APC. “Allow me.” After swooping down, he leapt from his butterflies, using the momentum to launch himself over the transport. At just the right moment he performed a spinning maneuver, buffeting the APC’s exposed underbelly with some sort of wind magic. On contact, the dark steel began to glow blue, and after a second it burst into a swarm of butterflies that scattered in all directions before dissipating. Anji landed behind the vehicle, just beyond the mud slick, and wiped a smudge of dirt from his abdominals with a polite smile. “There we are.”

Of course, mere seconds after he opened the APC, Jack units began to pour from within like clowns from a clown car. They climbed out, then launched themselves away from the stranded vehicle in a bizarre long jump, making it all the way to solid ground. In total, there were fourteen Jack-5s in their camo cargo pants and green tank tops, but there also seemed to be two top-of-the-line Jack-8s in black tech armor with glowing red lines, which really amplified the bad-guy energy they gave off.

Darli whistled. “Hoo boy. Welp, time to earn my paycheck!”

Dolores slid to a stop alongside her, her expression severe. Even if somewhat outdated by today’s standard Jack-5s were by no means incompetent fighters, and Jack-8s were strong enough to fight -and win- in Esaka tournaments. If the Seekers and UN agents were going to take this, they’d need to work together. “Anji, get back here!”

“On my way.” As the gentleman hurried over, the sixteen robots sprinted straight toward their enemies, perfectly synchronized and very intimidating.



By the time Heismay finished opening his gift, the aromas wafting over from the tables laden with food were too much to ignore, so the eugief shuffled over to find some grub. Dinner tonight was a buffet-style occasion, and with all of the various dishes spread across multiple tables arrayed around the communal bonfire where the giant Gammoth haunch spat and sizzled, there was never too much of a line for anything in particular. Only once he approached a table, plate in hand, did Heismay realize how hungry he really was. Without really noticing he’d subsisted off the spoonfuls and morsels he’d tasted while cooking in the kitchen early that afternoon, foregoing any actual lunch, so he was actually pretty famished.

Luckily, there was plenty for everyone. When he sliced off a length of freshly-seared Gammoth steak, medium-rare, the meat below it could begin to cook. He helped himself to some grilled vegetables, roasted chestnuts, fried fish, and of course, Benevolent Bread. Even if the flour here wasn’t quite the same as that of the grain belt in Euchronia, he’d remembered enough of his family recipe to achieve a loaf very similar to that of his hometown, and the result was sumptuous. When he first bit into a warm bun, he expected a light, airy, and sublimely fluffy loaf. He did not expect a wave of homesickness to inexplicably wash over him, almost bringing a tear to the old bat’s eye.

For a brief moment he was so choked up that he couldn’t even swallow the mouthful of bread, but after a couple seconds gulped it down, that strange and melancholy feeling subsiding with sniff. He did not always look back on his childhood as the ‘good old days’, especially with the wisdom and perspective brought by age, but still…it had been so, so long since he had a family. People to call his own, with whom he could share a wonderful occasion like this. Though surrounded by festive merriment, with joyful laughter and good feelings all around, in some ways Heismay felt more alone than ever. After losing everything, the notion that life had no more joy to offer had been a bitter pill to swallow, but he’d judged it to be for the best. Convincing himself of that had enabled him to while away his remaining days in solitude as he waited to die, tucked away in the sandworms’ lair. Of course, Will and the others had reminded him there were things worth fighting for, and in this world the Seekers filled the same role, but allies were not the same as friends. Would be ever grow close to anyone again? Could he, even?

Heismay had no idea. He looked down, not realizing that he’d unconsciously clutched the amulet hanging around his neck. He took a deep breath, downed a cupful of cider, and picked his fork back up to continue his meal. The meat, the vegetables, the fish, the bread…it was all very, very good. He watched with a smile on his face as some of the younger partiers attempted Flea Juggle, trying to keep increasing numbers of young fleas (protected by bells worn like hard hats) aloft at once. When Blazermate got a high score on Flea Dodge, Heismay clapped in appreciation.

On the other side of the fire, Sandalphon finished her own dinner alone as well, eating not too far from where Edward’s beasts were chowing down on pokepuffs. The process reminded her of the meals she’d shared with others over the past few days, mostly those in the Avenger’s mess hall and in Everdream Valley near Midgar. The ones she remembered best all had one thing in common: Zenkichi Hasegawa. Although she wasn’t fully equipped to understand it, Sandalphon knew that her bond with that man was something special. Becoming more human at heart had opened the door to wonderful things, but it also allowed her to experience a new, exquisite form of pain, arguably worse than the physical damage that her miraculous incantations could heal.

Being apart from him just as they’d begun to grow close hurt, of course, but it didn’t hold a candle to the knowledge that their bond was doomed to break, thanks to the archangel’s looming expiration date. Rather than spend her last week or two with Zenkichi and Akane, cherishing what little affection she’d managed to cultivate, here she was in a frozen wasteland. The Christmas Village was a welcome relief from monster-infested zoos and complexes, but having so much joy and warmth in proximity also reminded Sandalphon exactly what she lacked. That she was consciously cutting short what little time she had left, betting everything on a hare-brained scheme with precious little more to go on than faith. Every movement she made was a reminder of the grievous task she’d undertaken, a reminder that there was no going back now. Even with a full mug of hot cocoa in her gloved hand, her fingers still felt cold. When she drank it down, warmth flooded through her system, but was gone the next moment, like a misty breath in the wind.

Her relationships, this holiday…it all felt so futile. Destined for ruin. If she hadn’t become more human, would she still be hurting like this? “A heart,” she murmured. “Is nothing but pain.” Unfortunately, even trying to tell herself that her feelings didn’t matter felt futile.

When everyone had, by and large, finished eating dinner, desserts showed up to replace the entrees and side dishes. Peppermint bark, chocolate chip cookies, and fruit cakes appeared en masse to be enjoyed by the festival-goers, and perhaps galvanized into action by the ensuing sugar rush, the carolers went into overdrive. Dozens of voices joined together in song, filling the cold night air with riotous jollity. Even Heismay got caught up in the excitement, tentatively lending his underused voice to each chorus.

Eventually, Sandalphon lent her efforts as well, less out of good cheer and more out of obligation. Tonight’s goal was, after all, to dispel the blizzard that impeded the Seekers’ journey, and Maeve had not been specific about how the festival would accomplish this. As more and more voices united in festive harmony, however, Sandalphon began to observe a change in the obstructive snowstorm. When her team arrived, the blizzard had practically been a wall, a vertical cold front in motion but largely cohesive, like a calm sea. Now, though, its surface seemed turbulent, roiling and stirring as if all the Christmas carols were disturbing it.

”Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells
All seem to say, "Throw cares away"
Christmas is here, bringing good cheer
To young and old, meek and the bold

Ding-dong, ding-dong, that is their song
With joyful ring, all caroling
One seems to hear, words of good cheer
From ev'rywhere, filling the air…”

”ENOUGH!”

A furious shout, louder even than Maeve’s voice when amplified by the rock soup, resounded over the village. A cold wind, also projected from the direction of the blizzard, seemed to accompany it, extinguishing candles and sending chills down spines. Though many festival-goers were frozen in silence, the more combat-capable Seekers went on high alert, Heismay reaching a hand to his longsaber’s blade while Sandalphon stood, summoning her gunstaff. All eyes followed the Midnight Walk northward from the village to the great longitudinal canyon as the blizzard abated, losing its supernatural speed and density as it weakened to the level of a regular snowstorm. Anticipating contact with some sort of enemy, Sandalphon cautiously approached, with Maeve fearfully but bravely following her.

As the protectors of the Christmas Village approached, a procession of tall, skeletal soldiers, sporting horned heads and lances of ice, appeared from the frigid haze, marching two by two out of the storm and across the stone bridge. After stepping onto the ground, their ranks split, half fanning out to the left and half fanning out to the right. They planted the shafts of their spears in the ground and stood motionless at attention. Above them, bulky Ty-Foos appeared as well, staring down at the festival-goers. Finally, at the very end of the procession, there emerged from the snowstorm…a cat.

It strode down the Midnight Walk toward Sandalphon and the others, then sat, glaring. “Who dares disturb me?” he demanded in an imperious, somewhat flamboyant British accent. “And what’s all this…ruckus? Feasting? Singing? Without my say-so? Preposterous! I should devour you all here and now…but in my gracious mercy, I, the Ice King, will grant you peons a second chance…”

Absolute cold began to emanate from the cat, enough to freeze the air around him. After a moment, the ice shatter, and in its place stood a saber-toothed tiger as tall as an elephant, crowned with a glowing pearly diadem and long horns. ”Love me…or die!”

”Awwwww come on! That’ll have broken something important for sure” Jr complained with regards to the hole ripped in their carefully preserved prize. Additional grousing would have to wait, however, as the bots inside elected to use this hole instead of the back door, clambering out of the hole, leaping off in amusing T pose jumps, and then lining up in formation, ready to fight.

The kids didn’t just stand there and watch them do this, and instead backed up a bit as they prepared to bring the pain. Pokeballs were tossed, tapes clicked off, and drones deployed while Jr called out for the team to ”Stay clear of em!”

As the jack bots came charging after Anji, Jr called out from the side (about 45 degrees round from the other ambushers where they’d semi-spit off from the rest of the group) ”Over her rust buckets! Eat this!” before the kids brought a thunderous opening salvo to the fight.

The prince himself raised up his paintbrush and pumped magical energy into Peeka the fluttermane, who unleashed a lifeform disintegration ray into the pack. The beam pierced all the jacks it hit, slowed them by 20% for one second, and if they were hit by the whole beam they’d be atomically deconstructed by a resistance ignoring burst of damage.

Besides this magic, Rika unleashed a more mechanical might. Her 9 drones all firing minigun’s worth of pistol rounds and accompanying mini rockets while her whale did the same alongside its own cannon fire and a triple volley of mouth spat bombs. The shipgirl herself meanwhile fired her palm rifle from one gauntleted hand while the other held her halberd under one armpit and fired off the double barreled cannons found on the butt of the polearm.

Surrounded by all this gunfire, the shipgirl found herself screaming at the top of her lungs alongside the cacophony, becoming one with the thunder

The pair’s summoned strikers (that they hadn’t had to use to flip the apc) had their sibling’s chosen powersource meanwhile, with Jr’s mechanical Kaw-man appearing behind them to fire spike missiles, while Rika’s towering Vespikan Ichor Queen raised her cleaver to the heavens as she charged it with magical power, before unleashing a lightning bolt over the kid’s head.

It was an absolute maelstrom of power, and it was a good thing indeed that Jr had warned the others while they’d been waiting that when he yelled to get/keep clear they really should heed that warning. This was especially true because there was very little accuracy involved in the onslaught, and the only real aiming going on was an attempt to not hit the retreating Anji in the process of all this.

As such, while the initial assault would likely play havoc with the synchronized formation charge of the Jacks, and make individual evasion within that formation a nightmare, if/when they broke formation and spread out it’d be much less effective.

This was, however, kind of the point, as it’d let the (short) Seekers and UN members fight more on their terms instead of giving the bots a chance to gang up on one person in particular.

Of course, it would probably also draw quite a lot of ire to the kids as well, but they could handle it.

Probably.

Now that he had ingratiated himself in with this colorful group, Layton's spirits were quite high. Whatever goals they had might still be a mystery, one that he was interested in figuring out, but mostly he was looking forward to their eventual arrive at Moon Mountain. The books at Gressenheller talked only briefly on the area, predominantly regarding folk stories of its connection to the sun - his archaeological intuition had him curious. Answers were sure to come eventually, though, so for now the Professor enjoyed his time with the festival. A serving of roast, some festive pudding, and a Christmas-y tea were his foods of choice for the evening.

And, ah yes, there was a gift for him under the tree. A small box wrapped in a tasteful shimmery paper, one that only needed to be uncovered instead of unwrapped. And inside...

"Delightful," Layton said to himself, turning the badge over in his hand. He didn't accessorize such as that, but he figured it was keeping in the holiday spirit, so he carefully attached it to the band of his tophat. Hopefully whoever gave it to him would appreciate that.

There was a part of him that was a little... off. Wishful thinking, perhaps, in the hope that his earlier wish would somehow come true. It was impossible from a logical standpoint that anyone in the village could procure a letter from someone they never met on such short notice. Maybe he got swept up in the festive atmosphere, enough to give him that shred of belief. Layton's dinner turned melancholy after that realization, stuck thinking about his young apprentice.

Luke would've really enjoyed himself here.

Layton's mix of reverie and reflection was, same as everyone else, cut short at the arrival of an unplanned guest and his entourage through the blizzard. Layton noted that the storm subsided to allow the group to exit. "It appears we have discovered the source of the storm," the Professor noted. This "Ice King", no doubt the leader of this collection of armed soldiers, was very irate about this festival. Threatening to devour everyone for it, though? Now that was a bit too far.

Layton considered the circumstances: this King held himself in high esteem, whether his title carried the proper role or was self-granted. And he treated this village as if he had some amount of control over it, enough to claim things occurring without his "say-so". Had the noise of their celebration truly breached the boundary of the blizzard to annoy the King?

Perhaps. But Layton figured the answer to this was much simpler than that.

While everyone stood in shock, anticipation, anger, fear, a bevy of emotions in response to the Ice King's appearance, the Professor went over to the buffet and collected a new plate of fresh food. Then he made his approach, walking up to where the tiger-formed King stood, not paying much mind to the icy guards flanking him.

"Please forgive us, sir Ice King," he said aloud, "if we had known that you resided beyond that blizzard we would have made more of an effort to reach you. It's our mistake that you were left without invitation to this Christmas party."

When he was close enough - not too close to anger him or the soldiers, of course - he held up the plate of food he made, laden with a good helping of fried fish and a mostly rare slice of haunch. "Fortunately, we're still in the middle of celebrating, so you've arrived at a perfect time to join. If you wish, that is."

---

Despite his general effort in trying to avoid such frivolities as desert while on campaign, Edward nonetheless found himself with a plate of christmas custard coated pudding in his hand, thrust into his hands by an elf who said it was to prevent any envy/temptation he might feel while watching the beasts devour their festive treats.

It was only after the elf in question had vanished back into the crowd that the niggling familiarity he’d felt had resolved itself. Clad in festive garb, it had been hard indeed to recognize Sundren of House Inioch, but it had most certainly been her. Indeed, the way she’d vanished really had been what clinched it, as despite her festive cheer she was in fact a Rogue Lord, master of court intrigue, propaganda and assassination.

She had also been princess of the Elven Court on his world, against which his Commonwealth had waged war. A war that the two of them had acted to end first separately and then in coordination, before finally helping forge the peace that had followed, during which she had become something of a friend.

She’d apparently been up to quite a bit more intrigue since they failed to stop the Shadowborn’s opening of the worldgates, namely manipulating the two major factions of Godir to positive ends. Between his trip through the astral sea, subsequent madness and his recovery from it, he’d never had a chance to catch up with her before Galeem’s light consumed them all.

Why in the worlds it had decided to put her here of all places was lost on him. Truly it was a waste of her talents in his eyes. Wll… other than her ability to organize and steer a party, ball or other event to her own ends perhaps, he supposed. Regardless, her other talents that would make it rather difficult to free her from the false god’s grasp without causing a commotion, given that out of the two of them she was far more apt at stubbly offing, or in this case harming and healing, someone than he was.

Still, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t consider how to go about it, but that was going to need to be a long-term plan for the night and next day, rather than something he could do right now.

Plus, if he kept standing here contemplatively staring after her rather than eating the damned desert she’d handed him, that would just make her suspicious. As such, he blinked away the lingering shock, and got stuck into the Christmas pudding, which he found perfectly to his liking.

Definitely here for her party planning ability, he decided, while enjoying the steamed treat. The woman was no doubt greasing wheels to keep everything running smoothly rather than enjoying herself, the poor selfless soul.

That or Christmas Village politics was a lot more cutthroat than it looked.

Sadly, though the pudding was both delicious and somewhat sentimental (the man finding himself half remembering an Academy party from his younger days), his slow and steady enjoyment of it meant that he was interrupted before he could finish it by the appearance of the feline of frost and its icy legions.

He set down his desert, stepped onto a table, and then took wing over the head of the retreating elven crowd, ascending to a rooftop from which he could assess the situation.

Could the seekers win? Yes. He’d sent the beasts to back up the seekers, and had the golems ready to ditch their festive decoration positions at a moment’s notice, which could hold back the frozen sear-troops just fine while the heroes saw to the cat king.

Could they avoid collateral damage to the village? Now that was more doubtful, as the wind-blasts from those Ty-Foos would be quite indiscriminate.

Thus upon hearing the cat's demands for veneration, he slipped off of the roof and made for the box of poke puffs, a reserve of which he’d deliberately held back so that the beasts could have treats in future. A joy he was, to his shame, about to rob them of.

He swiftly tried to re-wrap the package, thankful that he’d saved the paper, only to find ever so little success in this. Perhaps if he’d engaged in the gift wrapping earlier, he might have, but as such his amateur talents were not proving to be up to the task

To his rescue came Sundren, who took him entirely by surprise when she appeared beside him, feet ever so light on the snow, and said “here, let me. You’re already committing a sin of re-gifting, so it might as well be presentable“ before taking over.

In a flash a pair of wicked looking daggers and a suspiciously fast setting glue were used to chop and reseal the cardboard box itself, followed by a swift yet perfect application of salvaged wrapping paper.

”Oh, ah, thank you’re highness” Edward said as he had the box shoved into his hands, which got him a quirk of an eyebrow from the not-a princess-at-the-moment party planner before she set his slip-up aside and urged him forwards.

With the Dreadnought acting as gift carrier, the Rogue followed on from Layton’s own invitation to the festivities with a strong helping of flattery delivered in an ever so proper British accent.

“We have even set aside special gifts for one so grand at yourself, and are overjoyed that our faint hope for such a prestigious guest has been granted this day" she called up, before gesturing to Edward and continuing “please, accept this first of many offerings oh great Ice King”

The man in question nodded, and then with careful steps joined the professor to offer his own bribe to the party crasher, while internally wondering if the Rouge had had time to poison the treats while wrapping them.