---

While Ramattra had hoped delving deeper into the structure would provide him more cover from the remaining onslaught of ghouls, he judged poorly and now found himself in a new room with more seemingly impossible-to-reach corridors and sets of stairs and ladders leading to parallel floors, surely chock-full of new dangers. He needed to find the way out, and desperately, but before he could even consider his possibilities, the swarm of enraged beasts needed to be managed. The Omnic had been running from their chase for a minute now, and never even had an opportunity to estimate their numbers. There were about two dozen remaining, and with plenty of abilities at his disposal, taking care of the rest of them would be no issue.

The commander opened with a Ravenous Vortex directly in front of him to funnel and slow the swarm. The claws on the starving monsters looked sharp enough to cut through his metal plating if he allowed them to, so keeping them at a comfortable distance was the best play. In Nemesis Form, the blade from the Democrawler’s Scimitar was tall enough to cleave through two enemies in singular strokes, though its unwieldy weight meant slower hacks through their flesh. Ramattra’s Vortex was just enough to keep them at bay and complete three clean dissections, reducing the enemy numbers by a fourth. There was still work to do.

Ramattra knew his ultimate was not ready yet, but could feel much of its energy coursing through his robotic and biological veins. Pumping one syringe of Alchemist Cocktail into his bloodstream, his muscles tightened and grew in size, making his sword swings more crushing and devastating. Even though his Vortex faded and the Ghouls were now preparing to pounce on him, the Omnic clashed his blade into three more of the monster’s chest, knocking one off the side as well. “Sink into despair!” With his battlecry, the Omnic began entering his Annihilation mode, shredding the hardened ghoul’s flesh with a flurry of harmful airborne Nanites.

It almost felt too easy now, even without Edward’s assistance, though Ramattra was sure both of them were handling themselves well enough without the other. With their injuries racking up and the Omnic always ready to deliver the final blow, it didn’t take much longer for the remainder of the Ghoul forces to fade away into ash, leaving Ramattra with a moment of silence after the ambush. With a heavy sigh, the Null Sector Leader looked around, trying to make sense of this labyrinth of stairs and ladders.

He exited Nemesis form once no immediate threats were in the area. One thing he was able to make out before approaching the ruins was an odd looking creature hanging from the ceiling with long, defensive appendages. It was stationary, thankfully, but definitely willing to defend itself if provoked for any reason. There was the obvious choice to head back and perhaps search for the “key” to the lift with Edward… However…

With a sigh, the Omnic decided to press upward to investigate the large monster. He knew it was a foolish decision to be separated from Edward, but Ramattra did not doubt his own skills. Once he reached the top floor of the tower-like structure, the octopus took notice of the intruding robot, fell from the ceiling to the floor, and began wildly slamming its tentacle-like limbs toward the Omnic. More Ghouls found their way to the source of the sound, fortunately, fewer in number, clambering out of cracks in the walls and from the layers below. Four had made their way into the fray, and as the Omnic tried his best to dodge the octopus’s tentacle slams, he used his momentum to slash down two of the additional threats.

After dashing out of another tentacle’s range, Ramattra noticed the hallway-like shape of the tower structure he was inside. Was there something at the end that this creature was guarding? It’s appendages constricted much of Ramattra’s access to the other end of the room. If he even took that risk, he would surely be wrapped by the creature’s tentacles and rendered immobile. If he wanted to get to the other end, he had to take the remaining hostiles out.

Clutching his blade, Ramattra’s scimitar grew in size as he activated Nemesis Form once again to cut down the last two ghouls menacingly. The remaining beast’s hide appeared thick, and unlike its ghoulish allies, the octopus could certainly handle more

The Omnic retired his blade to the chasm it hid in amongst his circuitry and fleshy bits. As the land octopus prepared to slap its improperly shaped appendage down on Ramattra, he parried it with his Enchanted Buckler, now adorned on his single arm. With the kinetic energy stored, Ramattra pointed the weapon to the ground to release a devastating shockwave that winded the creature.

With this opportunity, the Omnic closed in the distance between the two of them with a powerful 3-leg propelled punch to its central mass. While the average traveler would need to deliver multiple blows to slay the octopus, the shockwave and heavy strike were enough to reduce the beast to ash, leaving behind its spirit for Ramattra to collect. The Omnic sniveled mockingly. “… Surely that’s not the best you can throw at me.”

Whatever that creature was once protecting now piqued his attention. At the end of the room was an out of place lever, which was pulled to the left. Ramattra walked over and pushed the heavy lever to the right. The sound of a large stone moving reverberated through the corridors, luring the Omnic’s curiosity. He stepped back down to the original room, searching for any signs of change in the structure.

A previously sealed lone door in the distance now had a torchlit entryway of light illuminating the darkest patches of the walls. From his distance, it would be impossible to leap the distance over the chasm, but as he observed with the candle-like pokemon, there appeared to be invisible pathways between at least some corridors… At least he hoped. The creatures were listed as “Ghost” type, and certainly appeared spectral in nature… so it was entirely possible they crossed with ease because of their supernatural abilities. Now, across from the revealed door, Ramattra used his staff as a prodding stick to investigate the gap.

Sure enough, there was footing there to cross along, but in case of any unexpected drops, he kept his staff lowered to the ground ahead of him, assuring the pathway was completely clear. Not once did Ramattra look down. Once the threshold was cleared, the Omnic sighed slightly, relieved to be on visible ground. He was fearless to an extent, but crossing an invisible bridge over a gaping chasm was not in his element.



He entered the chamber silently, the quiet metallic clacks of his spider-like legs against the stone floor. The large stone mechanism slammed behind Ramattra as he fully entered the room. Ramattra was now trapped with whatever remained in the unexplored room, or maybe it was trapped with Ramattra. At first glance, the room appeared entirely empty, save for the columns, tree-like roots crawling over every inch, piles of century-old humanoid remains, a stone doorway opposite the entrance amongst masses of roots, and a mercury-like liquid creeping across the grounds of the seemingly abandoned room. “Odd. Am I just meant to rot in here and die? I’ll just punch a hole through the stone and return to the group.”

As he finished investigating the room, an odd noise echoed in the small room. Ramattra’s head immediately craned at the source; the pool of silvery liquid began reanimating in front of Ramattra, rapidly modifying itself to mirror Ramattra’s appearance. It collected its form and began growing to Ramattra’s height and shape, brandishing a mercury-silver Nanite Staff in his only arm, the weighty Enchanted Buckler also gilded with a silvery tint.. The Mimic’s transformation only took a couple of seconds to duplicate all of Ramattra's equipment effectively. Once it had fully become the Omnic’s doppleganger, the Mimic raised its staff challengingly at Ramattra, egging him to initiate.

“Haha! So I am to fight myself then!” The Omnic felt an unusual sense of glee at the prospect of fighting a clone of himself. This was the perfect opportunity to see where his newfound strengths and abilities lead him. “Let’s hope you’re just as durable then! I’ve been looking for an excuse to cut myself loose.” If Ramattra could grin, a twisted expression would have replaced his face. Ramattra wasn’t a bloodthirsty berserker, but he knew this one-on-one only ended one way, and that brought the dormant Ravager inside of him great joy.

The battle began with the two mutually taking distance from each other and firing their staffs from behind the cover of stray columns that hadn’t yet fallen to ruin. While the mimic continued to follow after Ramattra’s strategy, Ramattra projected his barrier to directly block the stream of fire from the Mimic, throwing a ball of nanites beyond the shield’s protection to drag the mimic with its Vortex. It wasn’t long before the false Omnic retaliated in his own way, switching to Nemesis form to counter the gravitational pull from below him, struggling to pull itself out of Ramattra’s ability.

The Omnic drew his blade, using his slightly smaller form to strategically close the gap from column to column as he approached the Mimic. The mimic, now free from the vortex that drew him towards the ground, now activated his own copied abilities, charging towards Ramattra in its silvery Nemesis form. The Mimic Tear threw the vortex below Ramattra’s feet, inflicting the same pull toward earth that the Omnic had caused him. The Mimic drew a large blade from its cavity, skittering rapidly with its three large legs towards the Omnic, who, despite the obvious difference in size, continued his approach from the imposter’s side, clambering his way out of its vortex and plunging his blade once into the mimic’s biology. “First blood! Don’t disappoint me, facestealer!”

An opportunity to attack the smaller Omnic opened, encouraging the clone to prepare a devastating smash attack with the oversized blade, powering itself up with Alchemist Brew as it charged. Nimble enough to react at his size, Ramattra raised the heavy Buckler mounted on his wrist to absorb the blow, but the force of the crush was enough to leak through whatever defense the tool provided, absorbing the energy, but not the momentum behind it. Ramattra was nearly flattened into the stone below him, cracking the flooring with his metal chassis. Multiple of his sensors cracked trying to extinguish the attack as well, which will definitely require repairing later.

The Omnic was lucky he didn’t have organs to wind, otherwise he could have been out of commission longer. Quickly scrambling to his three legs, Ramattra stood back up and dodged backward from the Mimic. Nemesis form for the mimic had finally ended, forcing the faker to stand defensively, dropping its own shield down and switching to its staff to fire at Ramattra from its own cover. Unlike his imposter, Ramattra saved many of his abilities to counter the mimic. Now activating Nemesis Form, the Omnic began to close in the space between them by blocking, activating nanite overshields, allowing him to absorb the stream with minimal oncoming damage.

Once Ramattra had crossed the threshold beyond the Mimic’s barrier, he immediately released the energy trapped within his buckler, knocking the imposter back and allowing the Omnic to get within melee range. The Null Sector commander was able to land a few stray punches on the false Ramattra before it drew its blade again and began rapidly slashing at Ramattra’s greyened flesh tentacles, leaving lacerations on its unfeeling surface. Teal blue liquid dripped from the wounds- altered blood from Ramattra’s new biology and Alchemist Brews… But this was his first time seeing it.

He was bleeding.

While the pain was nonexistent, in truth, the Omnic didn’t know if he could bleed out now or not… And he certainly wasn’t willing to take the risk. As the fake Omnic began to back off to create distance, Ramattra, in a fit of undiscovered frustration because of his wounds, unequipped his Enchanted Buckler and dropped his staff to crush the bottom of one of the columns. He punched it as hard as he could, flecks of rubble now dropping from every inch of the ceiling. Gravity did the rest, knocking the column down from where it hung, reducing it to a simple stone beam. “Let’s end this.”

Another Cocktail. With his massive grip, he crushed into the rock, using it as a makeshift club that was ten times too large. Ramattra was unsure if the Mimic could feel fear at all, but part of him wished this scene could instill it within the beast. With maniacal laughter, the hulking ravager, not giving his foe any room to adjust to his odd tactic, immediately slammed the beam into the imposter’s side, sending him flying into the wall parallel to him like a rag doll, the overwhelming strength of his makeshift weapon devastating, and causing the Mimic Tear to kneel to Ramattra, as it began to lose its structure and turn back into goo, and then into ash.

Now, all that stood in the room was the wreckage, the beaten and worn Omnic, and a stray spirit, which was swiftly collected. Ramattra sighed in relief. While using his strength against a pure equal was enjoyable for him, the outcome spoke for itself. This is the worst condition he has been in since joining the Seeker… Perhaps it was time for him to be a little more trusting of magic, but magic could only heal his physical injuries. His damaged sensors needed to be completely replaced. Wiring had come loose, glass had shattered, and critical modules he used for his sight were no longer responding. While this wouldn’t hinder his travels at all, it certainly was bothersome.

Suddenly, the door that Ramattra thought would lead the way out filled with an odd yellowish smoke. Brandishing his blade idly as he approached, the Omnic half expected ghouls or other foes to crawl out of the mist to finish him off. However, he got closer and closer until he extended a hand- discovering that the wall behind had seemingly disappeared entirely. Ramattra slipped through the fog effortlessly, feeling every sin he had ever committed crawling down his spine, before emerging out the other end.

The room he arrived in was minuscule in comparison to every other he had ventured through, only sporting an odd-looking medallion with unknown figures on it, dressed atop a small pedestal. Something about its shape felt familiar. Maybe Sandaphlon could find a purpose for it. Other than that, a lever-activated stone door was all that remained within the room. A tired Ramattra would pull the switch to the opposite side, clicking mechanisms inside the doorway that filled it with more weird yellow smoke.

He proceeded through, less cautiously this time, knowing it wasn’t any sort of ambush. The door led him back into the chamber where Ramattra and Edward had been separated originally, though down one of the many corridors the two had assumed impossible to traverse. Ramattra’s knowledge of this dungeon’s invisible platforms came in handy one last time, as the exhausted commander began the ascent back up to the Stagecoach.

---

…

When Ramattra had finally returned to the company of the Stagecoach, the first thing he did was invite himself inside the contents of the rustic vehicle, and look down at Sandaphlon. “I may require medical attention.” He warned in advance, before reaching into the cavity amid his chest to procure the odd medallion for the archangel. “Please tell me that thing makes this mechanism move.” Ramattra sighed in exhaustion, hoping that his risky endeavor had not been for nothing.

“If you need my attention or help, I’ll be investigating the lift.” With that, their conversation was kept curt, professional, and hasty, though Ramattra actually had no intention to investigate the lift, but rather use the back of the structure to rest against for a moment. Hopefully, the other Seekers understood.

Before they got too far, however, Ramattra examined the four spirits he had collected in the depths below. Three from the undead, and one from that copycat beast. The undead didn’t strike the Omnic as important, so with a firm grip, Ramattra crushed the spirits into something new.



The Omnic looked at the items with little interest. The claw’s purpose was impossible to discern without the necessary context of where it could be used. It wouldn’t be long before Ramattra and the Dreadnaught were back together, whereupon Edward’s investigation on his side of the dungeon found what he believed to be an entryway the key may unlock. “May it serve you use. I’m sorry if I cannot go back down with you to investigate. This may be the first time I ask to rest a moment.” He joked, now examining the spirit of the Mimic Tear he had just slayed.

If he absorbed it the same way he did the Democrawler and Alchemist Boxer, there was no telling what unusual side effects would come from fusing with an amorphous silver blob that copies entire beings. However, being more experienced with Galeem’s rules now, he knew that was not his only option to make use of this powerful enemy. He held onto the spirit to call upon its form later, deciding to spare its final bit of essence, allowing it to bind to his being.

Free from her mechanical taskmaster’s tyranny at last, Nadia stepped out onto the High Tier’s circular main street and pawsed at the edge of the sidewalk, her tail flicking back and forth as she watched colorful cars go by. Every so often, the feral couldn’t help but stop, take a second, and marvel at the cityscape that now surrounded her. Sure, she was no stranger to the urban jungle, having visited New Meridian’s more metropolitan areas plenty even if she usually stuck to the poorer districts, but compared to what she’d experienced before Esaka’s High Tier was a wholly different beast. On the surface it was unlike any city she’d ever seen except maybe the Nyakuza Metro, from its mixed Chinese and Japanese architectural style to its layout and even the characters on many of its signs, but it still felt kind of familiar. It might not be her definition of ‘normal’, but it still felt distinctively, comfortably ‘normal’. And now, with her matches for the day complete and her training session over with, the world was Nadia’s oyster.

Compared to combo trials, taking a brisk stroll was a breeze, so the catgirl set off on a casual walk around the tier. She set herself the goal of circumnavigating the ring-shaped city once, but really she just wanted to sightsee. Having a lot of money really did change one’s perspective when perusing boutiques, salons, and other storefronts; for once in Nadia’s life, these weren’t just the vainglorious excesses of the undeserving rich. Now she was undeservedly rich, and she could actually afford to get whatever she wanted. Given that it was after five o’clock now, she could also start thinking about dinner. There were bound to be all kinds of excellent options up here for the financially irresponsible.

Of course, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Nadia wasn’t about to forget the target on her back she’d earned after stealing from Kazuya Mishima. Hopefully G-Corp’s stooges were busy dealing with the target put on their backs by Heihachi, though either way she’d be giving their headquarters a wide berth. Wait…come to think of it, hadn’t she heard somewhere that Heihachi’s last name was Mishima too? Given his age (which admittedly made his physique and hairstyle even more impressive) he might be Kazuya’s father. With how much bad blood there seemed to be between the two of them, Nadia figured there must be a juicy story there somewhere. Family sure seemed complicated. Good thing I don’t have any, she joked to herself.

After a good hour or so on her clockwise journey around the High Tier, popping into various establishments like the Hard Reads bookstore, the Flash Kicks zapateria, and the Input Buffer gym (where she clambered on the rock wall and misused gym equipment for a few minutes before getting chased out for not buying a membership), a strange sound got Nadia’s attention. It was a sort of rumbling whine, just loud enough to be audible to her long, furry ears, mostly notable for its origin point: the sky. It sounded familiar, too, but she couldn’t quite place it. When she looked out over the city buildings, toward the eastern horizon where tall mountains laden with pink cherry blossom trees stood before a vast, reedy marshland, her sharp eyes detected some sort of disturbance among the clouds. She couldn’t see anything, just some sort of indistinct blur, but the way the clouds parted suggested something moving at high speed. A moment later, three black dots like specks of ground pepper shot out of this blur and toward the ground, quickly disappearing behind the buildings that blocked Nadia’s view.

It took a little while longer, standing there and scratching her head, for Nadia to put two and two together. “Oh, duh!” She smacked herself, smiling ruefully. That high-speed, high-altitude blur, so indistinct against the background that she might have very well have imagined it, had to be the Avenger, hidden from view by its exterior camouflage. If that was the case, those dots had to have been hellpods. But just who were the Lost Numbers deploying? Nadia didn’t bother wracking her brain for answers, but decided to find out for herself.

Being on the east side of Esaka already, the feral began to descend. Rather than try to find a lift, she just sauntered to the edge of the tier, vaulted over the railing, and used her hardened claws to control her fall. She landed in a roll on the rounded, jade-green shingles of a Mid Tier building and stuck to the rooftops from there, steadily putting more and more distance between herself and the tiered city’s center. So far she’d mostly stuck to the northern fourth of Esaka, so these parts of the Middle and Low Tiers were new to her, but that just made them a fun test for her agility. If not worn out by all the training, she would have been even more adventurous, but for all her peppiness the catgirl’s energy wasn’t infinite.

It wasn’t long before she reached the city’s eastern gate. Compared to how busy even the dingiest, poorest parts of Esaka were, the winding road that led out toward the mountains and marshland beyond looked remarkably empty. Precious few travelers, trucks, or horse-drawn carriages made their way along it, going either way. After giving the Aurumaton gatekeepers a wary glance, Nadia stepped out onto the dirt road and climbed up a nearby tree for a better view, her claws sliding into the bark with ease.

Sitting there beneath the canopy, listening to the wind and the songbirds, was pleasant, but Nadia wasn’t exactly the meditative type. Luckily, just as she was starting to get bored she spotted a pair of travelers headed toward Esaka from the direction of the pink-crowned mountains. The youngsters, somewhere in their mid teens, were virtually identical, with fair skin and long blonde hair tied on low ponytails beneath black hats with white bands. Their attire was similarly formal, with brown suits that sported white fur collars, black collared shirts, and white ties. They said not a word, but approached the city with a determined spring in their step, as if eager to make mischief. It was a stride Nadia knew well. As they drew close, Nadia dropped down from her tree, and when her footfalls drew their attention a single glance told the feral all she needed to know. Their eyes weren’t red, but pink, with bright blue rings around their pupils. A smile crept onto their faces when they saw her, their mannerisms oddly synchronized. “Well, look who the cat dragged in,” they chorused.

“Hiya,” Nadia replied, waving as she approached. Strange…she counted only two visitors, but she was pretty sure she saw three hellpods fall from the sky. Had she been mistaken? Eh, no matter. “I know you guys, you’re Lost Numbers. Well, not purr-sonally. I don’t know your names, but I saw ya on the Avenger. Though you weren’t dressed like that. Lookin’ snazzy!”

“Thanks!” One of the twins was ever so slightly taller than the other, and he doffed his hat. “We’re Bartholomew…”

“And Marguerite Bogard!” the girl finished with a playful bow before the two spoke at the same time again. “At your service!”

If these kids were going to be a two-person act the whole time, Nadia realized, they were going to be a lot to deal with. “The name’s Ms. Fortune,” she told them. “And welcome to Esaka, where the tournaments are so emotional, the fights are guaranteed to have you in tiers!”

“Ooh, good one!” Marg replied, snapping a finger into a finger gun.

Nadia beamed, pleased to have her talents recognized and enabled. As she turned toward the gate and beckoned the twins to follow her, though, she gave them a scrutinizing look. “Bogard. Bogard. I’ve heard that name. Wait.” She snapped her fingers, her eyes widening. “You know anyone named Terry?”

“Mhm!” The two replied together before Bart continued alone. “Terry’s our grandaddy on our dad’s side.”

Marg nodded, crossing her arms as she walked perfectly in sync with her brother. “Never knew him ‘cause he expired way before we were born, but our dad tried to teach us his moves.”

“A little bird told us that you guys ran in Terry down here,” Bart explained before his face and tone turned more serious. “Of course…it isn’t the same Terry. By now, he’s been reborn in the cycle. Probably a half-dozen times.”

“Still, we wanted to come meet him if we could. Think of it as getting back to our roots,” Marg added.

Nadia reached into her hood and rubbed the back of her neck self-consciously. “Well, uh, right now I’m kind of a solo act. Lost my linkpearl and everythin’. But hey, why don’t I give ya the grand tour-nament? I’m basically an Esaka pro by now! We can keep an eye out for ‘em as we go.”

The twins agreed, and beneath the Aurumatons’ watchful gaze the three mischief-makers stepped into the city to see what they could find.

---

Before even rising from where he slumped down onto the grass of the little isle, Balrog slammed his gloved fist into the ground. He lifted his head and met Big Band’s even stare with a glare of pure venom, practically foaming at the mouth. “You’re dead, big man,” he snarled. “Hear me? Dead!”

The detective kept himself calm and collected. His new upgrades didn’t make him invincible by any means, but he felt like he had his opponent figured out, not to mention outgunned. His rich voice, filtered through his newly-repaired respirator, was as hard as steel as he replied with the honest truth. “Killin’ me’s gonna take a lot more than what you’ve shown so far.”

Balrog smashed his gloved fists together. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”

ROUND TWO: FIGHT!

For the second time, the two men met with explosive force, raw muscle against solid steel. Eyes alight with anger, Balrog pushed Band back with pure aggression, his onslaught of punches just unpredictable enough that Band couldn’t flip the script with a well-timed parry, lest he open himself up at a crucial moment. Worse still, the boxer’s fury wasn’t as exploitable as the detective might hope. Countless hours of tireless training over the years had turned solid fundamentals into incontrovertible muscle memory, so Balrog didn’t leave himself unsafe very often.

Still, Balrog’s repertoire of punches was ultimately limited, and when Band astutely recognized an opportunity he powered through his foe’s punch with his reversal. “Beat…Extend!” After rattling Balrog half-conscious with the jangles of his giant tambourine, Band launched a combo optimized for maximum corner carry to bring himself back from the brink his rival’s offense pushed him to. He jumped up, jingled Balrog with Jelly roll, struck with the stab-and-spin of Sweet Clarinet, then buoyed him back up with a Bass Blast just before he hit the ground. “Shove off!” A dash got him in range to hop up and continue with Tenor Blast, another Sweet Clarinet that carried them both to the ground, and then a solid ringing from his musical triangle. A couple love taps from his tiny pedal paved the way for a double trombone slide, Kick Stand, and a final slide forward. “Take the A Train!” He scooped Balrog up into his arm, jackhammered him, and spat him out at the island’s other edge.

Rather than follow up, Band risked playing his Bagpipe Blues. Fortunately, his guess was right on the money: Balrog needed to hold back to build strength for his strong, advancing moves, and couldn’t reach him in time to shut him down. That meant that when the two clashed again, the detective’s instrumental normals boasted armor, and Balrog quickly learned that he could no longer win any trades. “What the!?” Gritting his teeth, the boxer hunkered down on defense, stuck blocking as Band tested his mettle with a grueling string of attacks. The seconds slid by as Balrog expertly blocked, constantly shifting his stance between high and low guard as Band changed up his moves. Somewhat impressed, Band played along, determined to make the man crack. Finally, after almost thirty seconds straight of ducking, weaving, and blocking, Balrog whirled forward with a massive turn punch. “FIVE!”

WHAM! Band flew backward as Balrog’s fist impacted his chest hard enough to leave a dent. He hit the ground with a crash and tore up the grass as he slid, scuffing his trench coat.

“Huh?” The detective grunted breathlessly. He looked up to see Balrog coming, and got up as fast as he could. By then the boxer had jumped forward, and when Band tried to block his foe’s jump-in, Balrog replied with his Ultra Combo.

An ugly grin spread across Balrog’s face as he reached up and grabbed Band’s head with his boxing gloves. “Bastard!” He hopped up to deliver a withering headbutt to Band’s nose, breaking it, then landed and stomped on the detective’s foot in order to deliver a jaw-cracking hook. Band crumpled to the sound of his adversary’s laughter as he gave a shameless shrug. “Gahahahaha!”

Groaning, Band slowly planted his Lokjaws in the dirt and pushed himself up. “Fightin’ dirty, huh…”

Balrog leered at him. “Still standin’ huh?” He balled his fists and stepped forward. “I’ll fix that!”

“HORN CRUSH!” Rapidly reconfiguring, Band rocketed forward, sound energy blasting from his giant French Horn. Balrog had anticipated something like this, but even as he blocked Band’s Blockbuster, the sheer force pushed him back. A final push sent him skidding backward, and when he went to punish, though, he realized his foe wasn’t finished. Thanks to Bagpipe Blues, the detective slid forward, an all-out punch barrage. Balrog curled his lip, planted his feet, and returned fire with a barrage of his own.

“Come on!” he roared over the cacophony. “GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“TUBATUBATUBATUBATUBATUBATUBA!”

It felt like minutes, even if it lasted only seconds. Band’s mighty Lokjaws beat Balrog’s fists back bit by bit, until finally the boxer’s arms fell limply to his sides. He gasped, breathless, as Band reeled back for one final punch. “...TUBA!” Spittle flew and the last of Balrog’s breath left his lungs as the Lokjaw slammed into his chest. The next second, the spring activated and sent him flying back, off the island, across the water, and into the boat moored nearby. He slammed into it hard enough to send boards flying, and after a single beat, the Lokjaw’s payload exploded to finish the fight in a majestic eruption that left Balrog floating unconscious among the wreckage.

Breathing heavily, Band retracted the Lokjaw back onto his arm with a clang. He spat out blood that had trickled into his mouth from his nose, then lowered his metal fist. “Give Combo my regards.”

BIG BAND WINS!

This time, cheers erupted from the spectators who’d witnessed the spectacular finish. Rather than congratulate Band, Ileum elongated her intestinal limbs to stretch toward the island from the nearby walkway, then fished medical supplies from her bag as she jogged to Band’s side. As she wiped away the blood, then pinched his nose with a white cloth. Band knew he should be feeling triumphant, but instead he mostly felt worried. That climactic finish would have suited the grand finals, but even after everything, it was still just his first day of Pools.

“Well fought, Ben. That was pretty amazing. Are you okay?” Ileum’s voice stirred him from his thoughts. Her mask betrayed no emotion, but he thought he could hear the tired, worried smile in her voice, and that drove away his fears.

He smiled back at her, then deployed his mechanical arms. With his left he swept her up in a one-armed hug, which she didn’t resist despite her surprise, and with his right he raised a Lokjaw in victory. “Better than okay.”



It took longer than Darun expected for someone to exit the Opera House, but eventually Kim did. The detective reconvened with the UN agent to report that while Chloe was nowhere to be found in the premises, a couple clues he’d picked up from searching her trailer suggested both a more nuanced relationship with G-Corp than one might think and a fondness for a certain establishment called Infinite-tea. Darun’s bushy eyebrows shut up when he heard the name. “I saw that place! It’s just down the street. With luck, she might be there.” The wrestler waved for Kim to follow him. “Let’s go!”

The men were beaten to the punch, however, by a certain third-party. Grima was already in Infinite-tea, and among all the blonde women in the shop, the astute swordswoman had managed to pick out her target on her first try. Chloe herself happened to be so lost in thought that she didn’t notice Grima until she seated herself at the incognito pop star’s table, which made Chloe jump in alarm. Only able to stammer in response to Grima’s rhetorical question, she shrank back in her chair as the charismatic vessel’s naturally burgeoning personal bubble beat back her own.

When she finally found her voice, Chloe didn’t exactly answer the question she was asked. “What do you want?” She froze, however, when told not to make a scene. In fact, she scarcely seemed to breath as Grima kept talking. It took a few moment after Grima finished for Chloe to swallow and start talking. “Oh, God. I knew someone would come for me. After Heihachi put out a hit on G-Corp. But you’ve gotta listen, I’m like, not even really with them! I’m just paid to do PR, I swear. I’m no use to you, or anyone! Just some second-rate lolcow everyone loves to hate. This morning they told me to stand by in case they need me to come fight on their side, and I’ve been beside myself worrying all day long. If I don’t answer their calls, who knows what they’ll do? I didn’t sign up for this!” Tears were already streaming down her face; maybe she really was as stressed and close to the breaking point as she said.

At that moment, a cold wind seemed to filter through the store. A shadow fell across the table, and Chloe fell silent with a squeak. When Grima looked up, she found an imposing Russian man with a scarred face, slicked-back black hair, and a long fur-lined coat. With an icy frown, he put a hand on Grima’s shoulder, his severe gaze lingering on Chloe for a moment before he looked down at Grima. Completely silent, he jabbed a thumb toward Infinite-tea’s front door, telling her to get lost.



To the east of the north-south dirty highway that divided the bamboo forest between Esaka and Shinjuku, the hilly forest turned downright mountainous, becoming a multi-tiered labyrinth of pale stone, bamboo thickets, and swampy water. Its lowest level took the form of narrow, serpentine canyon riverways plagued by mosquitoes, their shores thick with reeds. Here and there they combined into rocky pools with lily pads beloved by frogs of all shapes and sizes, so many that even if explorers spent hours collecting different frogs, they’d only ever obtain a fraction of them. Further up were grassy islands of varying sizes linked by natural arches and treacherous cliffside paths, seldom more than a couple dozen feet above the water. Higher still were a variety of larger plateaus, and above those loomed rocky spires like massive tree trunks or giant spikes. Copses of bamboo could be found everywhere, but other kinds of vegetation were plentiful, creating a lush -if dangerous- environment.

This terrain would be downright impossible for most wheeled vehicles to navigate, but few wheeled vehicles had Kuebiko’s agility. With its incredible suspension system the Metal Attacker could leap between the different plateaus to get around with impressive agility, although the Seekers were probably still better off leaving all their conveyances behind as they explored this unique area, lest one of them misalign a jump and leave a vehicle unsalvageably wedged in a crevice.

As one might expect of such an interesting locale, there were all kinds of points of interest. Most obvious was the largest plateau in the region, home to a miniature bamboo forest of its own. An old thatched cabin could be found there, where a solitary, spiky-haired youth could be found training with his staff. He’d made use of the flowering orchard by the hut to cobble together a device that could launch fruit into the air for him to strike while standing atop a balance beam, but despite the young man’s optimism, his ambition had clearly outstripped his ability and he seemed to be in need of some help.

Atop one of the taller, more inaccessible plateaus in the area bloomed a dense dappled glade, dominated by a huge weeping willow with dreamlike blue fronds. Beneath those ethereal curtains floated a bluish spirit, Meidra, who would prove so intensely interested in the personality of whatever ‘sweet beast’ discovered her that she’d happily pose a variety of nuanced questions to her visitors if given half the chance, with the promise of reward to anyone whose measure she’d be allowed to take.

Elsewhere in the canyons, a beautiful crane stood in a yellowish meadow amidst the bamboo, intensely focused on a trio of magical cauldrons set up in the clearing before her. Judging by the cart of fresh produce and other foodstuffs nearby, those strange apparati seemed to be cookpots, and the crane was attempting to precisely control their temperature through the use of several elemental slimes: fire slimes to increase the heat, and puddle slimes to lower it. Unfortunately, thanks to the slimes’ unintelligence, this method was a bit unwieldy. If approached and asked what she was doing, the no-nonsense crane (who could speak and referred to herself as Cloud Retainer) would matter-of-factly explain her latest attempt to automate culinary perfection with her Supreme Cuisine Machines, and perhaps begrudgingly ask for her visitors’ help.

The Seekers weren’t the only ones traversing the area, though. In the long evening shadows cast by the stone pillars, a diminutive creature with candle, pillow, and nightcap wandered listlessly, as if looking for something he couldn’t find. Even smaller critters, little more than black spheres with long ears and three-toed feet, might get the Seekers’ attention and lead the way to the little wanderer’s side.



Once Ramattra recovered the Rold Medallion from the depths of the misty dungeon and returned it to the Seekers waiting in the main structure, simply placing it atop the pedestal was enough to get the archaic mechanism moving. Somehow, despite weighing untold tons and involving no modern technology that anyone could see, the entire stone lift began to grind upward. Along with it went Geralt, Layton, Ramattra, Edward, his summons, and the whole stagecoach, slowly but steadily bound for the bleak clifftop.

After she warped up to help the flight team and subsequently beat a hasty retreat, Sandalphon stood stock-still beside the stagecoach as the lift climbed upward. Completely focused, she fastidiously continued to monitor the harrowing battle against the cultists at Oblivion’s Ingress up top. With a wealth of dangerous abilities at its disposal, the Exemplar seemed to pose a serious threat, and the situation stressed her out more than she would have liked. She’d only born witness to its distorted form, in all its grotesque glory, for a few moments, but that was long enough for its presence to feel unnervingly reminiscent of the final battle in the Qliphoth.

Regardless, the Exemplar’s arrival hadn’t given Sectonia, Blazermate, Mokou, and Heismay enough time to recover from their run-in with the first wave of cultists (which had been unpleasant but manageable) so the wounds and disquiet compounded to push the flight team to the edge both physically and mentally. Could Mokou really afford to burn through so many lives without consequence? Realistically, they should have called for backup earlier. Even if everyone managed to pull through, the encounter proved that the Seekers could still run into very dangerous enemies any time, any place. Unity was their greatest asset, so even if it bored individuals like Sectonia or Mokou, the team should probably not split up as much going forward. By reflecting on what she could have done better during the battle, Sandalphon came up with a novel application of her new abilities from the alchemist Markiona, and resolved to try it out during the next fight.



When the lift eventually reached the clifftop, Sandalphon saw that the tenebrous cathedral was no more. Oblivion’s Ingress had vanished in its entirety, collapsing under its own weight like a dying star. It left behind a footprint of scorched earth, a stretch of blasted gray-black slag to which no falling snow would stick. A number of mangled corpses could be found strewn around the area, perhaps remnants of whatever eldritch ritual had opened that door to darkness here to begin with. A few strange artifacts lay amidst the rubble, including a chipped obsidian pyramid, an iron ring to which shadows clung, a tangible dark impulse that seemed linked to the ring somehow, and a cursed sword with an obnoxious staring eye. Could it be the legendary sword hinted about by Vulgrim?

Now that they’d made the climb, one way or another, there wasn’t much left for the Seekers to do but press on, albeit slower than before. On one hand, the last hour or so had been grueling. Whether they’d been climbing, fighting, or exploring the dungeon beneath the lift, most of them had made up for the long hours they’d spent on festival preparations. On the other hand, they were now traveling uphill, the grade of the slope steep enough that the shieldrix were having a much harder time pulling the stagecoach along. With a number of team members now licking their wounds as well, everyone’s thoughts gradually turned toward the question of where they’d be making camp for the night.

Soon, the heroes found their answer. As the stagecoach steadily climbed higher, the Midnight Walk eventually led them into a basin amidst the snowy ridges. The path curved around a small frozen lake, and on an island in the lake’s middle stood a gigantic snowman complete with green googly eyes, a carrow nose the size of a tree trunk, and a stovepipe hat. The real find, though, Heismay spotted thanks to the glow of the stagecoach’s torches. A cave mouth opened into one of the basin’s rocky walls, just large enough that the wagon could turn and rattle inside.



Although rather forbidding thanks to all the icy stalactites, illuminated by the glow of pale ghostfire braziers, the cave was spacious, without any signs of life or other exits. That meant the Seekers could inhabit and fortify it, shielded from the elements and surprise attacks. It was no winter lodge, but given the harsh terrain this close to Moon Mountain and the conditions outside, it was about as good as anyone could ask for. “Let’s settle down here for the night,” Sandalphon decided. If everyone did their part setting up, the camp would be ready in ten minutes, and aside from the designated watchmen the Seekers could retire for the night.

"Camp here? Well, it is fairly empty looking. I will set some Antlers to guard the area." Sectonia said, summoning some red and gold antlers to guard the entrance to the area they had just come through before pulling out her own camping supplies. She could at least make camping for herself not so horrible with her fancy extra dimensional camping tent and supplies, although it would be up to the others to offer food for everyone. Blazermate meanwhile summoned her Engineer striker to offer more protection with a level 3 sentry gun and a level 3 dispenser for people to use to refresh their weapons. After that rough fight that would be welcome. "If anyone needs ammo for their guns or needs to fix anything, the dispenser can help you out by offering resources. The sentry gun should keep us safe too. "

Noting all the, frankly, cursed looking items, Sectonia let the camp know aloud. "And if you have items from the days adventures you need appraised, you know what you need to do." with her starting to appraise the 4 dark looking items inclduing the sword that perhaps was the one Vilgrim mentioned.



She'd have to debate if any of these were worth taking. Really it seemed the sword would be the only one she was interested in, but she'd have to research it before she chose to grab it with its cursed nature.

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



Being the stealthy type, Roland left the opera house when he was sure he couldn't find anything new. It ends up they found the lady that was causing all that commotion in the opera house just a few buildings down, and it didn't take much pressure at all from Grima to have her spell all the beans. Well, it seemed the beans she knew anyway. So there was a hit out on the seekers, much like Roland had guessed, but the reason why seemed to be unknown to her. Her handler, or the one that got her to stay quiet, was unfamiliar to Roland, but he'd observer the situation for now as it seemed Kim and Grima had things under control for the time being. He would've preferred to just go to G corp now that hes learned that its not anywhere close to the corporations hes used to and just get things done there, but maybe that'd be their next visit here soon.

@Lugubrious @Goggy @Double

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

Word Count: 351
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Lv: 4 EXP: (5/40)
Location: Infinite Tea

Kim had to sneak past the many guards and workers who were still around in the opera house. Having enough evidence to use against Chloe. He wanted to relay this information to Darun Mister before going over to the tea house. He stopped a few feet away from the opera house when he heard Captain Falcon’s voice. He didn’t like the thought of Terry not responding to any kind of communication. His mind thought that something terrible had happened to the blonde.

” Please let me know if you make contact with Terry. And please let me know if you need my help.” Kim said over the link pearl. The detective had put away his link pearl as he approached Darun. ” Hopefully. Did you hear anything from Terry? Falcon is unable to reach him.” Both men were starting ot make their way towards Infinite Tea. Kim’s eyes were scanning the inside of the store. Noticing Grima and wondered how she got here so quickly.

Kim had been standing behind Captain Falcon, watching Grima question Chloe. Feeling pity for the woman as she pleaded her case. Suddenly, a cold chill hit him, making him shiver.” We are not here to end your life, Mrs. Chloe; in fact, we are here to help you. We are investigating G-Corp and believe you may have information that could prove useful.” Kim said, flashing his badge.

His eyes looked over at the creepy-looking guy staring at them. He stepped between Grima and the strange man. Staring down the man, who was a few inches taller than Kim. ” Excuse us if we are causing a scene, but we are questioning this girl as a part of our investigation on G-Corp. We will be brief with our questioning and be out of your hair. If you would spare us a moment or two.” Kim flashed his badge to show that he had some authority. He was trying to be civil with the creepy man, but part of him thought the man was with G-Corp. And didn’t want them digging around.

Once the Seekers reached the cave, Heismay climbed out of the stagecoach and just stood there for a few moments before beginning to help the others. The simple fact that he hadn’t been perched atop the vehicle as it traveled like normal, silently standing sentry, said a good deal about the battle he’d been through at Oblivion’s Ingress. Even if Blazermate healed the wounds, the scars still ached, and the mental damage inflicted on him by those nightmarish monsters doggedly refused to relinquish its hold on his brain.

This physical and mental soreness, combined with the eugief’s small size and meager strength, meant that he wasn’t much use when it came to carrying things around or setting up tents. Still, work needed to be done to make this cave habitable. Even without the biting wind chill outside, it was terribly cold in here, and very inhospitable. In fact, it offered Heismay an extra dimension of discomfort with how the noise echoed off the cave walls in here. Usually, he found (or made) himself an enclosed space he could cover with cloth in order to soundproof his sleeping area and find peace, but that wouldn’t be possible here, even if he commandeered the stagecoach’s interior for himself. The best solution he could think of was to swaddle himself in as many layers as possible like a newborn; it would be stuffy in there and hard to breath, but it would be warm and quiet. Regardless, with that eldritch buzzing in the back of his mind, Heismay didn’t expect to sleep very well tonight even if he managed to get comfortable.

As he went about preparations, the hermit couldn’t help but notice someone being a lot more useful than he was. Somehow, the Ace Cadet seemed to command endless strength, energy, and optimism. With a weary smile, Heismay shook his head in bemusement. “Even after climbing the mountain, covered in heavy gear, you’ve still got the energy to move like that? Even in my youth such feats were beyond me, and I’ve left those years well behind. How do you do it, lad?”

In the middle of transporting the next set of camping supplies -tents, stakes, bed rolls, ground pads, all bundled and tucked under his arms- to a clear space in the growing circle of them, Ace perked up when he realized Heismay was addressing him. He turned to the shorter man with a pleasant grin.

"You say that, but you're still out here adventuring with the rest of us," he chuckled. Ace had already figured that Heismay was on the older side, but there was no way the little swordsman was elderly. Well, at least he didn't think so. He gave a one armed shrug. "My slinger-" he vaguely wiggled his right arm where the device was worn. "-did most of the work climbing anyway. Really, it just feels like all I did today was walk around and eat."

The Cadet bent to let his cargo drop to the cold ground, then stretched a little when he straightened back up before giving his attention back to Heismay. "Don't get me wrong, it was a pretty cool day, but the way icy it... since I didn't do much earlier, better help out now when I can."

His tone was still on the chipper side, not self pitying but merely stating a fact. Of course he certainly didn't mind a short break in getting the chance to talk with the man, as he'd been a little curious about the eugief since first meeting back on the Avenger, however briefly.

"Besides, not like I was fighting like you guys," Ace said. When he'd gotten to the top of the cliff the dark structure was completely gone with only the odd remains left. It wasn't a stretch to assume the flying team had run into some trouble. "What happened anyway? No one really talked about it when we all regrouped."

Heismay pursed his lips as one hand reflexively closed around the arm that had taken a grievous injury. “There was some sort of dark structure. It resembled a small cathedral, though in truth it may have been a gateway. Not between here and there, I mean, but between worlds. Some rather horrific monsters crawled out of it, as well as the limbs of something even bigger. But once we dealt with them, and the tentacles drew back, the whole thing disappeared.” He smiled ruefully as he shook his head. “We’ve tangled with some nasty creatures on this trip so far, to be certain, but none messed with my mind like those did. They were no mere animals, or victims of some terrible disease. I felt their lethal intent and intelligence. Let us hope we see no more of their like.”

To show Ace a little better, Heismay reached into a pocket and withdrew the spirit of the Exemplar, which he lifted up to show to the monster hunter. “Take a good look, lad. Twould be best to dispose of it right away, I think.”

Ace squinted in distaste when peering into the spirit displayed a fleshy monstrosity split open only to give rise to another disturbingly human-like fiend missing its head. The flicker of flame that floated over its cut neck melted into the spirit's own wisps, so the Cadet almost didn't notice it, but when he did his expression changed to one of surprise.

"Is that the same fire we passed through before?" he wondered. If these gruesome monsters were connected to it he hoped that they were its source, rather than a product of exposure to the flame itself. Just briefly moving through it had felt awful enough... he didn't want to think about it potentially turning them into these freakish zombie things.

The red head pulled back with a grimace. "Yeesh. Yeah, it really is gnarlycuga though. I'm with you in getting rid of it. Crushing it's the way to go here, right?" He paused for just a moment before adding with a small, awkward, nearly nervous laugh, "do you think it'll spit out something cursed?"

Ace’s response elicited a chuckle. “I’d not be surprised,” Heismay told him. His keen ears detected the slight edge of unease in the hunter’s voice, and he reconsidered his options. “Hm…although, come to think of it, perhaps we could turn its horrific strength toward our own ends. I have yet to experiment with the ‘spiritbinding’ aspect of Spirits. Tis rather unclear on how to do so, but I can try to connect with it.”

Summoning that thing as a battle partner would not have even crossed the Cadet's mind. Of course he was normally item-minded regardless of the spirit, but even so. Still, if it was that strong that Heismay thought it was a good idea, then far be it from Ace to say otherwise.

"I haven't either, so I can't give you any pointers," he confessed. To his knowledge he'd never seen it fail or backfire for anyone else trying it though, so he did at least offer Hesimay a thumbs up.

The eugief held the spirit at eye level, narrowing his ruby-red peepers at the gruesome image within. It possessed no discernible head when it lived, and now it seemed even less likely that it could hear him in spirit form, but Heismay chose to trust the process and address the Exemplar as if it could. “You sought entry into our world, and you craved violence. Heed my summons, and you shall have both in ample measure.” The spirit seemed to react, its wispy prismatic energy flowing toward him, and the pact was made.




Heismay blinked a couple times as the spirit faded away. “I did not expect that to work. Perhaps anything goes?” Shrugging, he ambled over to a rock and sat down, then reached for his flask. “After seeing that thing in action, I need this more than ever.” Today’s misfortune wasn’t over yet, however, as Heismay found there was scarcely enough moonshine in his flask for a single swig. His ears drooped, dejected. “Curses.”

The swordsman's reaction wasn't all that dramatic, but the gap between his expressive body language and sort of reserved personality was amusing enough that it brightened Ace's smile back up even more than the good news that Heismay hadn't ended up as some outlier and his new striker's dreadful nature wasn't somehow bleeding into him.

"Forgot to get a refill at the village? It totally slipped my mind too. They gave us a bunch of food to take but didn't pack any drink, not even water." Ace remained standing as he spoke, but in casual posture with his hands resting at his sides. He glanced out of the cave's mouth for one thoughtful moment, where snowflakes were still falling. "Not that water's gonna be an issue in this area, heh."

Ace's gaze passed over the coach where part of said care package remained before settling back on Heismay. He recalled that he'd heard mention of the eugief helping out in the kitchen ahead of the feast preparing at least some of the food himself, so perhaps Heismay liked cooking (even if the night prior he'd left the hunter, Edward, and Geralt to themselves in the lodge's kitchen, which in hind sight was probably a wise decision to distance himself from the mess).

"Ever tried making it yourself before? I think there's a few extra fruits; if we're gonna be in the Highlands for a few more days, there might be time to try fermenting them?"

His question seemed to intrigue Heismay, who tilted his head ever-so-slightly as a thoughtful expression crossed his face. He scratched his furry chin with one talon. “Tis an enticing prospect, and one I have not attempted. But…do we really have the equipment for that? Or the time, for that matter? I was under the impression that fermentation took years, not days.”

"Was hoping you'd tell me," Ace admitted. He figured equipment wouldn't be much of an issue unless the process was a lot more sophisticated than he assumed, but did it really take so long to make? Maybe it depended on the type or the ingredients? Or maybe it just affected the quality?

Heismay shrugged and moved to help stoke the soon-to-be campfire, almost ready for Blazermate’s tinderbox or Mokou’s pinions. “No matter. With or without alcohol, I’ll survive.”

A few moments after he finished his task, the bonfire was lit. After scooting a little closer to the much-needed warmth, Heismay sat for a few moments, then drew his longsaber. He examined its blade in the flickering glow of the flame, and came away less than pleased. “Twould seem that battle dulled my sword’s edge. Whatever that thing was made of, it was no ordinary flesh.”

The Ace Cadet had not gone far, since the row of tents were going to be surrounding the source of warmth. They were distinctly more modern than what he was used to, just like a lot of things they'd run into, but it was easy enough to get them standing. Poles were pulled up, tarps draped, and metal pins were hammered into the frozen ground with only a little difficulty.

"Now that I can help with," he said, adding a 'one sec' to finish securing the last of the stakes. With the latest tent built he shifted to rummaging through the smaller pack he had with him that had served him well through traveling his own world and this one. He produced a block of some dense material that was easy enough to identify as a whetstone and turned to Heismay. The hunter could have just tossed it over the short distance, but instead he sidled close to the eugief to hand it to him personally - and to get an up close look at the man's weapon.

“Thank you!” Heismay accepted the item with a grateful bow of his head. “You’re much better prepared than I.”

Ace just waved a hand to dismiss the compliment. Now he hadn't seen too much of the eugief in battle so far, too far away or in separate parties entirely, so he was glad to see his chosen arms now. It was very similar in make to the common long swords he was familiar with, but it had some glimmer to it that was no doubt a product of the material it'd been forged with.

"Made from a sandworm shell, I think you said?" Ace asked, that brief moment aboard the Avenger having stuck out in the hunter's mind. Even then he'd been a little too far for a good look, but when he'd heard Nadia talking with Heismay about the weapon he'd made sure to tune in. The Cadet's interest was as plain on his face now as it was then, too. "What's it called?"

Heismay chuckled as he shook his head. “Oh no, tis not the same sword. I replaced the shell blade early on, back when we passed that shipwreck. Before we even reached that plagued menagerie.” He held up the reinforced longsaber. “Though I am no bladesmith, I could tell that this was leagues better. And I’d no sentimental attachment to its predecessor.” He laid the saber across his lap, peered at the whetstone for a brief moment, then adjusted his grip and began to scrape.

“In this line of work, we must always seek better equipment,” he reasoned, raising his voice over the scrapes. “With how this performed against that monster, I could stand to find a replacement. It is a quality blade, to be sure, but it is no more than that, and I’ve seen many a weapon with special properties among our ranks.” He nodded at Ace. “I imagine you’re no exception.”

The hunter gave a hum of agreement. "Mhm. I've been swapping out when I can, but..." he held up a hand and twisted it in a so-so motion, implying that it'd been a while but he would rather not get into the details. He had just recently added two new weapons to his arsenal, but they were currently increasing his carry load rather than replacing his old ones.

"Actually most of my weapons are elementless right now, but back home we'd use ones that could inflict statuses or shock or burn. Guess it's about time for an upgrade." Ace finally sat down properly, turning thoughtful for a moment. "Do you only stick with swords, Heismay? They are pretty radalos, but if you wanted to get into archery I do have a spare bow I haven't been able to figure out the trick with."

Although he gave it some thought, Heismay wasn’t too attached to the idea. “Swords, specifically single-edges sabers, are simply what I was trained for, drilled into me during my time with the Shadowguard, and I’ve never used aught else. Even a standard straight sword would be a departure for me now.” He tried to imagine himself shooting a bow, assuming a shortbow that suited his stature could even be procured. From what little he knew, drawing a bow took surprising strength.

“Trying out something else might be an interesting change of pace, but I wouldn’t trust myself with anything but a curved sword in real combat.” By now, Ace was probably getting tired of comparisons and compliments…still, Heismay couldn’t help but marvel at how proficient the hunter was with different weapon types. Was there anything the kid couldn’t do?

The hunter just nodded though. Options were good, and he in particular had no lack of them, but he couldn't fault anyone for sticking with what they knew - especially if they'd been formally trained, which it sounded like Heismay might be. The 'Shadowguard' definitely sounded like it was some sort of fighting unit.

"You were a military man, then?" the Cadet asked. It made sense if so, thinking about it.

Heismay slouched down wearily. “In a sense. I originally joined the night watch in the city of Grand Trad, serving well enough that I was eventually eyed for the royal guard. But there was no room for a mere eugief among the public’s most celebrated defenders. Instead, they found a spot for me in a lesser-known, more unsavory cohort, offering warriors of ‘lesser tribes’ a chance to serve their country through dirty deeds and necessary evils. A far cry from knighthood.” He did not disguise the bitterness in his voice. “I tried to serve with pride, but in the end I wound up disgraced and exiled.”

Unintentionally touching on a sensitive subject, Ace couldn't help but grimace. "Sorry, didn't mean to bring up any sore memories."

That was probably putting it mildly, but he wasn't quite sure how else to put it. Or how to move on without avoiding the topic entirely, which he thought might be rude. Ace turned his head to face the campfire, and after a moment's hesitation he relied on his optimistic outlook and spoke up again.

"It always sucks to hear when any of us have gone through things like that. I haven't known you long but I can tell you came out the other side of it a good guy, at least, and... if anything, you're putting the experience to good use." He finished with a more sheepish smile, unsure if Heismay was even receptive to such idealistic speech. "Fighting to save the world and everything."

Heismay gave him a grateful smile. Even after all this time in the World of Light, it still felt surreal that people of other tribes would be so readily sympathetic, much less offer him comfort and praise. Though it was shaping up to be a fairly miserable night in this icy cave, having real comrades by his side helped warm Heismay’s weary heart. “My thanks, lad. Sleep well tonight.”

Though pleased with the positive reaction, Ace dared not go overboard in saying much else other than, "You too! Kecha ya in the morning."

He stood up, letting Heismay have a few moments peace before the eugief found his way to wherever he planned to spend the night. Ace had learned a little about a companion, and gained a couple of things to think about while putting in the last little bit more work to make sure the makeshift camp site was as complete as possible, so all in all it wasn't a bad way to have spent the evening.

When at last Ganondorf finally linked back up with the stagecoach, he wasted no time. He summoned his Moblins and set them to work helping Sectonia’s antlers set up what would be the Seekers’ camp for the night. With that being done, Ganondorf was finally left with a little bit of spare time to go over what he found during his climb. He recounted the 15 crystal fragments he mined to make sure they were all accounted for before checking on the mystery berry he picked up as well.

”As I thought.” Ganondorf grunted with a sigh, ”I don’t have the knowledge to appraise these things myself.”

As he milled about the camp while the moblins and antlers set it up, Ganondorf held one of the crystalline fragments he found during his ascent in the caverns. At a glance it looked like a precious gemstone of some kind, which would give it selling value. But was there more to it? Unfortunately Ganondorf was not that familiar with ores and gems. However, he was fairly certain another member of the Seekers would be more capable of properly appraising these fragments given his usual work in constructing golems and other devices.

"A moment, Edward?" The Gerudo asked the tactician when there was a spare moment. He held out the fragment for Edward to take and look at, "I found an ore vein that produced a bit over a dozen of those fragments when I had it mined. Can you see any value or use in them by any chance?"

”Hmmm, let me see” Edward said as he received the fragment and raised it up to a quizzical eye. He turned it to and fro for a moment, before rummaging around a pouch and retrieving the pal-sphere containing his Rendrix and comparing the two.

”Thought so” he said, before handing back the shard and explaining that it was ”Paladium, most likely. We've got a few low grade spheres made of it, but higher grade metals would, apparently, make better ones, so it's worth keeping hold of. Or selling, if you'd rather not join in with all the monster taming going on"

"Ah," Ganondorf said, his interest piqued further, "I had been considering taming a beast for my own use, actually. Do you know what other materials are required for crafting these Pal Spheres, as you call them?"

”Quite simply wood, stone and metal. The higher quality the better. The shards seem to contain all of the magical properties, the rest are for reinforcing the device against escape attempts during the capture process” Edward replied after checking a note in his journal he had made on the topic.

”Well then,” Ganondorf said with an approving nod, ”Perhaps we should plan a material gathering excursion some time soon?” He suggested, but was obviously willing to put that idea on hold so the Seekers could sleep. So with that he took his leave of Edward, still having another thing he wanted to do while the Seekers were all still gathered.

Those Paldium Fragments he found were not the only things Ganondorf was curious about. After concluding his exchange with Edward, the warlord now had another object that piqued his interest. He'd spent enough time around his two mothers to know a potentially potent plant or alchemical ingredient when he saw one, but Ganondorf was never one to spend hours pouring over a cauldron or alchemist stations like his twin mothers had done. But there were a few Seekers much more capable of identifying the abilities of the berry he held in his hand. At first he tried asking Roxas, wondering if it was related to Pokemon, but the Nobody's Poke Dex came up short.

If only Kamek were still around, Ganondorf thought to himself. But there was no use lamenting the absence of the old Magikoopa. That left the warlord with but one option. And while he and the insect queen had often been wary of one of another, he still knew good and well that she was more than able to provide him the appraisal he needed, he would simply have to offer something in return for it. "Do you have a moment, Sectonia?" The Gerudo asked when he was able to catch the queen in a free moment, "I found something rather... intriguing during my climb." He offered up the single moon-shaped berry for the bee to get a closer look at, "It's the only one of its kind that I found during my entire climb, so it must be quite rare. I can detect it has magical properties but I lack the knowledge to properly identify it. I believe I still have a few Emeralds leftover from our time in the Under, they're yours if you're willing to help me. Or perhaps you'd prefer a share of these berries after I've more of them grown in the vegitube?"

Sectonia took a look over the berry, noting that it fit with what Ganondorf had become pretty well due to the aforementioned inability to be healed by outside sources according to Blazermate. "They seem to be enchanted. They put you to sleep for a short time, but heal you afterwards from what I can tell, and it's not a small amount." Sectonia said.

That news made Ganondorf’s lips curl into smirk, ”Excellent.” He said, looking quite pleased with what his find had turned out to be. As promised, he offered Sectonia his four remaining Emeralds for services rendered, ”Many thanks, your majesty. As promised, when more of this berry can be grown a share of them will be yours if you want them.”

Quite satisfied with his interactions, Ganondorf carefully put the Napberry back away in the pouch he was holding it in. That left only one person he wanted to find now. And he was certain that the archangel would be in or around the stagecoach, resting or overseeing the campsite setup. Either way, it wouldn’t be hard for the warlord to find Sandalphon.

”I found a rather… interesting bit of flora during my climb.” He told the archangel, letting her see the Napberry. ”Puts the eater to sleep for a short time, but renders them healed and satiated when they awaken. Could be just the workaround I need for my… little problem. I only found one, though. Hence why I’d like to petition for it be put inside that vegitube device we found at the zoo.”

It didn’t matter that the kids had recently had a second lunch, fighting worked up an appetite, and so they were inevitably drawn to the sight and most importantly smell of cooking wafting out from the yellowish meadow.

Admittedly, the smell itself wasn’t exactly of the highest quality, but food was food and so after letting the others know what was up, the two made their way there. As they did, Rika’s scout planes got a bit of a look at the culinary experiment going on, and also determined that there wasn’t going to be any danger with the crane.

Thus they strolled into the meadow casually, with Rika giving a friendly big handed wave as she asked ”Hi, um, we were just wondering what you're cooking out here? It smells kinda good”

‘Kinda’ was the best she could offer as a compliment unfortunately.

Jr then chimed in on her heels to ask ”also why you're cooking out here?” because it seemed like a weird spot to be doing so to him unless she was mainly cooking bamboo or something like that, he supposed. Maybe that's what they ate? They were kinda black and white like pandas after all, so that must be it, he decided.

The crane’s long, narrow beak turned the newcomers’ way, her beady eyes examining them. Despite their appearance and manner, she did not turn tail and take flight, indicating much more confidence than the average bird. “...Salutations,” she greeted them after a moment’s scrutiny. “One has just set up and is now in the process of fine-tuning one’s latest and greatest invention. A device with vast faculties, into which one has put much personal work. The Supreme Cuisine Machine.”

She paused for admiration, but after receiving only blank stares, continued. “Be at ease, and let one explain it to you. Much lore did one read in the construction of this cuisine-making machine. Know that there are a few key points in the art of ‘making food.’ The result is a miracle device that can do everything from ingredient location to food preparation…” Cloud Retainer trailed off slightly, then cleared her throat. “Aside from temperature control, regrettably. The heating mechanism is a magic conduit, but one’s own adeptal flame is too strong to channel without warping the internal components.”

Both kids looked at the pots, and then, as one, tilted their heads 45 degrees to the side as if this would help them work out how the pots were meant to ‘locate ingredients’ as the Crane claimed. Still both kids weren't going to say no when it came to testing if the’ Supreme Cuisine Machine’ live up or not, and so they put their heads together to ponder the problem.

”Could you breathe fire on it? You know the one that leaves the little burning patches” Rika suggested, to which Jr shrugged and then shook his head while replying ”I mean I guess? but what am I gonna do, hang around forever being a cooking fire? No thanks”

”Burning goop?” she asked, but Jr claimed that ”The Stus’d mess it up for sure” leaving his sister tapping a cheek and tapping a foot while going ”Hmmmm”

As she did this, Jr turned to the Crane and asked ”Have you thought about, you know, using a regular fire instead of things that wander off?” gesturing at the slimes who were in the middle of doing just that.

Cloud Retainer fixed him with a rather severe look. “It is not fire that one requires, but elemental energy,” she informed him. “The Supreme Cuisine Machine is a magical artifact, after all.” After spreading her wings, she flapped them to unleash a wind current to return the fire slimes to the makeshift ash pits where they were supposed to be. The winds also extinguished the embers the fire slimes had been unwittingly spreading in the yellow grass nearby. “Insipid, self-destructive things…without ashes to feed on, they’ll sputter out like candles.”

”Urgh, of course its a magic thing” Jr complained with a groan, then groaned again as Rika asked ”Can you train them”

”I mean yeah, probably. The fire ones want, what, ash? Just gotta convince em that they’ll get more of that stuff if they stick around and they will” Jr said, before asking the Crane ”What do the cold ones want? Ice or something? Same deal.”

As much as wrangling slimes did not appeal to Cloud Retainer, the adeptus knew that she couldn’t expect results from them if she took half-measures when it came to their care. She sighed through her beak, which had an almost musical quality, and stretched her wings as if to take flight. “One supposes that it would not be too troublesome to construct an adeptal incinerator or adeptal irrigator to make conditions more favorable for the gelatinous ones.” Flapping her wings, she conjured up swirls of orange-gold magic, pulling materials from the earth beneath her to fashion various components of great intricacy. It seemed as if this crane’s first response to any new problem was to invent something new; hopefully the process wouldn’t take so long that the cart full of ingredients nearby would begin to spoil.

”So is that, what, a magic wood burner and a sprinkler or something?” Jr asked as he squatted down to inspect what she was doing more closely. This sort of technical tinkering was actually of interest, and he’d be more than happy to lend a claw if it meant learning a thing or two that he could use for his own work.

Rika, meanwhile, was not very interested in the complexities of machinery, and so instead wandered over to take a look at the carful of ingredients to see what might be on the menu later.

Unfortunately for Junior, Cloud Retainer’s adeptal arts were far more mystical than they were mechanical. Components just seemed to assemble themselves out of thin air, working in ways that he couldn’t divine at a mere glance. Nevertheless, pleased that the koopa seemed to be taking such an interest in invention at such a tender age, the crane humored him with an explanation. “That is somewhat reductionist, but one supposes that you are essentially correct. In this case, the incinerator will be both simple and sturdy enough to withstand one’s adeptal flame, so all one requires is fuel.” Her slender beak turned in the direction of some nearby bamboo stalks. “If the prospect of trying food produced by the Supreme Cuisine Machine intrigues you, one would be pleased if you fetched some bamboo for burning. As for the irrigator, the condensation of atmospheric moisture should be sufficient.”

Meanwhile, Rika could both see -and smell- the quality ingredients in Cloud Retainer’s stockpile, maybe the very items marked by the Supreme Cuisine Machine itself for retrieval beforehand. She found poultry, ham, soybeans, mushrooms, snapdragon flowers, lotus heads, tofu, shrimp, crab, sugar, salt, and of course bamboo shoots, tender and young.

The ship girl took a deep inhale of the scent, let out a sigh, and responded to the question/request the Crane had given to Jr with a call of ”I’ll do it!” before taking off at a jog towards the edge of the clearing. There, she got to work, grabbing a stalk of bamboo in both gauntlets, and then using her hip mounted hull blades to hack away at the base of the plant till it was severed, before finally turning, yelling ”Catch!” and hurling the shaft Jr’s way.

The boy, having given up on learning how the ‘Kamek stuff’ the Crane was doing worked, was fortunately looking her way, and so had the time to run, jump and catch the thrown firewood. A bit of a bigger projectile than a baseball, but the skill transferred over nonetheless.

”How much you need?” Jr asked, as he laid the stalk down and dusted off his hands

“That should be sufficient,” Cloud Retainer reported as she finished her incinerator. The main device appeared to be a sort of pylon, almost tall enough to reach the floating Supreme Cuisine Machine, and its stood in a wide, flat, circular collection bin. The whole device had been positioned atop one side of a disk, with the irrigator opposite it, and like a playground toy the whole thing could be rotated to bring either invention into position. Once the kids loaded up the incinerator, Cloud Retainer focused her power through it. In only a few short moments, all the bamboo went up in flames, reduced to a heap of ash. At the same time, the irrigator began to fill its basin. In no time at all, both the fire slimes and the puddle slimes had ideal habitats.

“Excellent.” The crane flapped up to her invention. “One will handle the fine-tuning. The temperature control, one leaves to you two. You must follow one’s instructions to the letter. Ready?”

”Yeah alright” Jr replied with a casual shrug, while Rika gave a more enthusiastic ”Can do!” eager as she was to see (and eat) the results of the process.

Cloud Retainer nodded. “Then let us begin. Supreme Cuisine Machine, activate!”

The process began, with the adeptus making adjustments and calling out for changes at a blistering rate, which forced the kids to keep turning the invention wheel from side. “One needs heat. More heat, stimulate the slimes! Good. Now…cold, quickly now! We must temper the ingredients, turn up the heat!”

”Ease up!”

”This way this way!”

”No this arg!”

”To me, to you!”

Suffice to say, there was a lot of panicking even as they managed to stay somewhat on top of things. Luckily, the process went a lot faster than most methods of cooking, and in less than a minute, the Supreme Cuisine Machine whirred to a stop with a cheerful ding.

The mechanism sprung open and a platter extended, revealing three servings of piping-hot oncidium tofu. The tofu, thread-thin as the autumn leaves, floated in the bowl, like mist in a forest, and the shredded bamboo shoots gave the image a sweet, lustrous sheen, while the broth combined the essence of fowl and ham, giving off an unbelievable aroma.

“How is it? Is the Oncidium Tofu complete?” Cloud Retainer practically bowled the kids over in her eagerness to examine her machine’s handiwork. She inserted her beak into the bowl and slurped up a mouthful of bamboo-shoot tofu. “Very good! Verily do the capabilities of this machine exceed the norm!” The crane stared proudly at her masterpiece. “The fine control exercised in processing this Tofu... Indeed, one has outdone oneself.”

Cloud Retainer then peered at the Koopa Kids. “This is thanks to your aid as well, young ones. Allow one to bestow a copy of the Oncidium Tofu recipe upon you. And of course, you may sample the fruits of your efforts.” She circled around her invention to give the others space, already thinking of ways to improve the device. “Further adjustments must one make to this machine's faculties...our method of temperature control can indeed be automated and made miniature…”

The two, having just recovered from the bowling over, quickly backed up and out of the way of the circling Crane, though not before Rika grabbed the noodles and Jr the recipe. Once clear, they both glanced down at the delicious looking meal, and weighed up the superb snack the tantalizing aroma was advertising vs the fact that there had been bird beak in there.

Rika came to her decision first, ducking her head down and greedily slurping (no one here carried cutlery around with them after all) prompting a ”Hey!” from Jr who practically shoved his sisters head back up so he too could slurp a sample too.

Suffice to say none of this was very hygienic, but the heavenly taste of the meal meant that any ick factor was swiftly forgotten.

Grima’s eyes flicked towards Kim as he approached and joined the conversation, her red eyes holding a bit of annoyance. While she was effectively doing their job for them, she found it rude to intersect when she was already talking. But that annoyance was quickly overshadowed by the Russian man placing his hand on Grima’s shoulder.

Immediately, Grima froze, her faux smile becoming considerably more strained. She barely heard Kim’s voice, her red eyes locking onto the hand on her shoulder before she let out a slow, deliberate breath, “Did I give you permission to lay your hand upon me, Worm?” she asked, her voice strained with barely concealed disgust, “Ask your questions for the girl, Detective. I believe I should have a word with this man… Outside” the Vessel adds as she pushes herself away from the table, standing up to face the Russian, a silent challenge in her eyes: A dare to start this fight in this building. Or be ‘polite’ and head outside.

Either way she would crush him. The Fell Dragon did not tolerate a lesser being attempting to threaten them.

Roxas was practically shivering when he reached the end of his climb and found himself entering an open cave area where the stagecoach was already waiting. Even with his coat, the winds outside made the air even colder, and he was definitely feeling that. Most of the others were getting to work setting up camp, but Roxas found himself needing a moment to warm back up before doing anything else. So he sat near where the campfire had been built and rubbed his arms together and against his chest.

”N-Note to self,” the Nobody said dryly through chattering teeth, ”Climbing the mountain on the outside… is n-not so hot of an idea. Literally.”

But before he could get too distracted, Roxas at least remembered to also release his Pokemon from their balls. He figured they could all use a chance to get out and stretch their muscles a bit. Larxene and Shocker were quick to take off to explore the immediate surroundings, restless and somewhat mischievous as they were. While Titan and Turbo were content to find a spot they could settle down in for the night.

And as for Scamp, the Boltund immediately noticed his trainer shivering and nuzzled up against Roxas in the hopes of helping him get warm.

”T-Thanks buddy.” Roxas said gratefully as his Pokemon snuggled against him, ”That helps a ton.” He added, his hands absently giving Scamp some gentle scritches behind the ears, eliciting a happy tail thump from the electric dog.

---

Captain Falcon was about to depart the Fatal Fury dojo when a voice stopped him, “You said you’re looking for Terry?” The Bounty Hunter turned and saw a Korean Martial Artist wearing a white gi with blue accents, though the belt was still unmistakably black.

”Do you know where he is?” Falcon asked, almost getting his hopes up a little bit.

“Not lately,” the Korean fighter answered apologetically, “but he’s a friend of mine. So if he’s missing, that’s got me worried too. Name’s Kim, by the way. Kim Kaphwan.”

”Call me Captain Falcon.” the Captain responded, ”You mentioned being a friend of Terry’s?”

“Sort of.” Kim replied coyly, “It’s a bit complicated. Spar with me for a moment and I’ll explain.”

The two took positions in one of the many training circles and began lightly trading punches and kicks. As they did so, Falcon learned that Kim met Terry in South Town when he traveled there to fight Wolfgang Krauser. He fought a brief match with Terry there and the two were good friends ever since, though that was also mixed with a healthy dose of rivalry between the two as well.

“Anyway, I told Terry if he ever needed my help he could always call me. Although I think he probably preferred asking Andy and Joe instead of a ‘rival’ like me, you know? I guess it’s kind of a pride thing. The point is, if Terry’s gone MIA, then I want to help find him if I can.”

”Much appreciated.” Falcon said, their sparring having come to stop by this point, ”But I’d hate to make you risk missing a match on our account.”

“Nah.” Kim said, said shaking his head. “It’s fine. Team Korea’s already wrapped up our matches for the morning so I’ve got some time to kill before my next big match.”

Atop a tall, relatively narrow plateau in the bamboo canyon, an ethereal copse of weeping willow trees gently rustled in the temperate breeze. Its huge canopy of soft, leafy fronds glowed even as a vibrant orange dusk gathered on the horizon, that deep blue an enticingly unusual sight. Getting up there wasn’t exactly easy, but a skilled climber could find sufficient handholds and footholds on the rock, ascending one ledge at a time until she finally reached the elusive, ghostly glade.

Yayama wouldn’t have called herself an expert climber by any means; she largely avoided the issue for the most part via finding forms of transportation that could fly. However, as many of Etheirys’s more well-traveled residents had, she’d taken the challenge of climbing Kugane Tower. Her progress up the cliff was slow and profanity-riddled, but eventually she pulled herself to the top, dusting herself off after she ascended the final step.

No sooner had Yayama entered the grove than she found herself greeted by a languid, wispy specter. Unlike the curtain of willow leaves draped around her like a soothsayer’s tent, which leaned more toward the purple end of the color blue, her smoky, somewhat feminine form sported a greener hue that rendered her almost teal, especially the eyes that shone beneath Galeem’s sunset-red film. With a sleepy sigh, she floated downward. “Mmmmm, what summons me from my ethereal wanderings?” she asked, her voice noticeable for its ghostly reverb and moderate Irish accent.

Her eyes widened suddenly as she laid them on Yayama. “Moo-ZAHR!” she exclaimed, her curiosity aroused. “What manner of beast is this?”

Said “beast” raised an eyebrow, such that it was hardly visible under her hat. “A Lalafellin dark knight,” she answered, eyeing the odd spirit with her own interest. “Yayama of the Stalwart Sword, they call me. And you?”

“Mmmm…” Yayama’s new friend floated around her, examining her from all sides. “I, Meidra, seek the knowing. The truth of nature held within your arc.” She withdrew slightly and tented her hand. “I have questions, sweet beast. Answer them true, and your arc may be known, your eye, opened. And do choose wisely!” she added, a teasing look dawning over her spectral features. “Answer from your heart.”

The dark knight shrugged, falling into an idle pose with a hand on one hip. “Sounds easy enough.” Her heart was in conflict, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t answer a few questions. “Ask away, Meidra, and I’ll do my best to answer.”

“A powerful and determined warlord is about to set fire to a crowded ziggurat,” Meidra began. “You have his eldest son in your custody. You could stop the warlord by hurting his son, breaking his arm and threatening to do worse unless the warlord relents and gives himself up. Do your torture your hostage or trust the crowd to fend for itself in the fire?”

Yayama frowned, thinking on the question for a few moments. “In a situation like this, normally I would try to stop him by my own hand, or facilitate the evacuation. Failing that, I might try to deceive him into thinking I’d harmed his son. But, if I must choose. . . tormenting one person is worth saving many lives.” She nodded. “If it must be done, it must be done.”

Meidra seemed pleased. “Now, let me think…oh yes! Imagine your are the immortal empress, but the secret of your immortality, and that of all who pledge fealty to you, is gone. The Thaen is dead, and soon, all who are immortal will become mortal again. If you reveal this, you risk the loss of all your power. Do you tell your people the truth, or do you try to find another way?”

“I choose truth, obviously.” Her answer came quickly. “A ruler’s duty is to ensure the safety and happiness of her people, personal power and the nobility be damned. And I say this as someone who is, technically, in line for the throne.” Not that she ever had any intention of claiming that birthright. Not that it actually belongs to you, either.

Nodding sagaciously, the specter continued. “You preside over the trial of an innocent. Enemies of the accused have kidnapped your child and hold her hostage, saying that if you convict the accused, they will let your daughter go free. Do you convict the innocent or save your daughter’s life?”

Her mouth twisted. Unintentionally, the inquisitive spirit had slid a knife into a particularly soft spot in Yayama’s mind. “. . . I believe in justice. It’s wrong to allow an innocent to suffer on behalf of another. I’d do everything in my power to ensure that I righted my wrong. . . but I don’t think I could sacrifice my own child like that. I’m not strong enough.” She took a deep breath to steady herself in preparation for the next question.

“Interesting…” After another moment, Meidra posed another hypothetical. “Say your daughter was killed. The murderer is arrested, and after many years, they are sentenced to death. Before the sentence is carried out, they come to you and explain that they are truly sorry and ask for your forgiveness. Nothing you say will change their sentence or bring your daughter back. Do you forgive them?”

Yayama looked at the ground. “As much as I would want to strike them down. . . yes. I’ve seen firsthand -” Secondhand, actually “- what holding onto grudges does to a person. We have to let the past be the past.”

“Alright, one more!” Meidra seemed excited. “Two clans have warred for generations. Your matriarch calls for a battle of champions to bring a final end to the bloodshed, and you are chosen to fight. Your opponent is the eldest but weakest son of your enemy. He offers you no threat, and you best him easily, but you must slay him to end the war. Do you spare the scion of your family foe or kill him to end the war?”
She paused to think, but only briefly. “I spare him. If I killed him, it would only lay the foundation for a future, bloodier war, but showing compassion might mend the gap between the two clans for good.” Yayama nodded again, satisfied with her own response.

The reply intrigued her interviewer. “You’d be surprised how little I hear that choice!” Meidra clapped her hands together, delighted by her new friend’s participation. “Very well, sweet beast, you’ve chosen your path!” As her ethereal body shone, the glow of the weeping willow fronds seemed to swell as well, with some sort of vital energy flowing out from the tree and toward Yayama. It felt oddly soothing, fortifying, like a solitary soak in a natural-formed hot spring. “Your heart is true,” Meidra reported. “May the power of the Doe’s eye free you from your incarnate shackles.”



She wasn’t sure how to feel about that precise benediction - it sounded a bit like the kind of thing a certain shadowy organization of ancients might endorse - but Yayama elected to take it at face value. As far as she could tell, the spirit was harmless, and even helpful, judging by her newfound sense of vitality. “Thank you, Meidra.” She offered her an approximation of a curtsy (the gesture wasn’t really made for plate) in gratitude. “Was there anything else I could help you with?”

“Oh, you’ve done plenty!” The playful spirit turned and floated upside-down. “Go out into the world, experience new things, and make difficult decisions!”

She let out a small laugh. “That much, I can do.” Yayama turned back the way she’d come with a short wave of farewell. “Farewell, then.”

---

---

Ramattra’s breather didn’t last long as he joined the rest of the group on the lift, taking refuge inside the safety of the stagecoach to see what he could do to manage his wounds. Surely he could find something among Edward’s armory to at least slow some of the bleeding. While potions would be rendered useless due to Ramattra’s inability to consume items orally, there were plenty of small medical packs he could use until he could seek proper treatment for the lacerations. It wasn’t hard to needle and sew through the decaying flesh because of the pain he couldn’t feel, but rather how coarse and thick the skin on his tentacle-like appendage was- and how difficult it was to pierce with such a small needle. Regardless, the wound was amateurly dealt with and would need to be resewn in the future without medical aid, but he wrapped it with bandages inside the kit, and chose to worry about it after they found shelter for the night.

He was relieved to hear that it was their next objective, as it would give him much-needed time to rest and confer with his party members about the final stretch of their journey. In truth, their quest brought him to levels of exhaustion in his circuitry that he had not faced- not even as a nomad. While Ramattra had no intention to rush their pace, it was becoming increasingly clear that his place among the Seekers was as a tanky counter-attacker, a role that meant the path ahead was filled with more damage sponging for his allies. All he could think about now was how nice it would be to spend a day in solitude strictly for meditation.

Once the lift had reached the top of the structure, it allowed the Seekers to forge ahead, and for once, Ramattra remained within the confines of the Stagecoach’s protection from the harsh elements of the cliffside. It was a lot more bumpy than before, now that they were moving uphill, but the Omnic simply wanted to rest for the remainder of the ride so that he would have strength to help set up camp once they had found suitable shelter from the snow. Fortunate to have such a talented scout on their team, Ramattra was pleased with the size of the cave, as it would allow for a lot of room for comfort.

Deciding he had finally rested enough, the Omnic would catch sight of the Phoenix, Mokou, a Seeker he had very little interaction with, but more than anything was curious to make her acquaintance. While she was human in appearance, something about her abilities and the way she carried herself brought Ramattra to the haphazard guess that she was some kind of deity or supernatural being from her world. In any case, it was in his best interest to be friendly with the Seekers in order to understand their strategic value. “I’ve seen a lot in my days, but these past two days have completely shattered all my beliefs about reality.” He spoke solemnly, approaching his fellow Novice Seeker from one of the icicle columns he had leaned on. “Though, maybe you could say the same, yes?” The angry flare in Ramattra’s voice seemed to have dimmed down to a collected wisdom. Maybe that fight had resolved some boiled-over frustrations that living in Galeem’s World had caused his mental state.

Mokou had found a small spot away from the rest of the group, having begun practicing with the lyre given to her by Venti several days ago, a tune that was clearly out of practice but not quite bad. Her eyes flicked up when Ramattra spoke up, the Phoenix giving a slight shrug, “I’ve been around long enough that it’s hard for me to start questioning. These last few days have certainly been a bit… New, however” she comments, plucking another string, “Figured you folks had your own issues climbing up the mountains. I had to take out a few cultists.”

“Interesting, so the cathedral was not that monstrosity alone? I… Took quite some damage, admittedly. Edward and I went below the structure to investigate the lift. We got separated, and after that, I plunged deeper because I was foolish and desperate for an answer.” The Omnic thought for a moment. He did find the medallion himself, no? Without assistance, Ramattra was able to slay a perfect equal of himself, and perhaps, that was something he could be proud of.

“I assure you, though.” Ramattra waved his hand, summoning a glob of silver goo, the striker he earned from slaying the Mimic Tear. In a matter of seconds, it began replicating Mokou’s appearance perfectly, giving a curt bow, before fading back into its bind with Ramattra. “It was quite worth it.”

Mokou’s eyebrow rises slightly at the sight of the Mimic Tear, a small smile forming at the same time, “Hm, a mimic of some kind. Been a long time since I’ve seen something that could recreate someone else’s form” with that, Mokou disperses the lyre, turning slightly to face Ramattra whilst putting her hands into her pockets, “I’ve seen you around a bit, but not quite sure what you are. My home never had something like…” the phoenix trails off, taking a hand out for a moment to gesture at Ramattra’s form.

The Omnic chuckled. Of course, his appearance would be deceiving about his origin, thanks to his multiple instances of fusion with acquired spirits. “Before I was traveling with the Seekers, I used to be what is called an Omnic. I’m not very sure what I am anymore, but my core is that of a sentient being of technology.” He had no qualms with his origin. He accepted what he was, even if the vocabulary was more rudimentary than what he said. He was, simply put, a robot.

“Actually, if you wouldn’t mind, might you help me with something? I’ve noticed that you have quite the control over fire. Perhaps you and I could arrange a large fire pit together for our allies? Our friend Tenna has prepared stew for us tonight.” He invited Mokou, his curiosity encouraging him to learn more about the Phoenix.

As luck would have it, fuel for that plan was just arriving, in the form of the chopped down remains of the scant withered trees that ‘grew’ around the lake. These were hauled in by Edward’s Bronze Golems, whose helbards had done the lumbering

The man himself arrived a few moments later, riding atop the back of his Reaver striker. In its tendrils the large aerial beast hauled a suspiciously familiar looking giant carrot, one which it then deposited on the icy floor before fading away as its 30 second usage timer ran dry.

Noticing the harvested logs among the man’s arms, Ramattra hailed his attention by waving his arm high, signaling for him to come close with his haul. “Sandaphlon is asking we clean this place up for comfort's sake. Personally, all I need is a place to meditate for the night. I have much to contemplate after today.”

“Hm. Sure, guess I can do that. Might help with the cold” Mokou responds to Ramattra’s request, rolling her shoulders and then snapping her fingers, a small burst of flame appearing over her now open palm, “A bit of fuel is all I need. Otherwise I’ll just provide something else.”

Ramattra piqued at her mention of fuel, something he was unsure was in their possession. Maybe there was something in the Armory that could assist Mokou in fueling the flame. “Ah! Edward, do you mind parting with some fuel from your armory? It would certainly help the fire burn brighter and longer.”

”By all means. It's the team’s armory after all, not just mine. I’ve simply made a link from us to the ship it is physically located on for expedient retrieval and storage of resources” Edward replied verbosely.

He looked through the items kept in the Dreadnaught’s Armory. One thing stood out: a canister of diesel fuel, which was meant for a vehicle, but surely could help them build a suitabl fire pit. “Would this work?” The Omnic collectively asked Edward and Mokou.

Mokou looks at the canister, tilting her head slightly. Despite her long life of immortality, diesel fuel was not a thing she was actually familiar with. But, at the same time, if they were sure that it would, then who was she to decide otherwise. A life spent in exile had prevented her from catching up with more ‘modern’ inventions, “Let’s find out” she states, taking the canister from Ramattra and beginning to walk over to the designated fire pit.

While the three had been talking, Edward’s golems had been hard at work. The carrot had been dragged off for the impossible creatures to start chomping away at, while the withered trees had been further lumbered, and the resulting logs dumped into a large squat pot that could take the place of the pit part of their fire pit.

The creation of the fire was not a particularly exciting affair. Once Mokou had poured the gasoline onto the fire pit, a quick snap of her fingers resulted in a small spark, which shortly ignited into a raging fire thanks to the abundance of fuel.

The Omnic gauged that his companions were getting prepared to rest soon, now that they were comfortable in the makeshift settlement. If he and the others wished to complete any other tasks, they had better hurry before the late-night storms picked up. “Actually, Edward… I’ve taken quite a fascination with these… Pokémon creatures that we have come across. I believe I saw some down the hill a little by that… horrifying snowman sculpture. Maybe it would be helpful to collect their samples and data?” Ramattra hoped the two would accompany him on the trip. “It’s best I not go alone. Even I am wise enough to admit that.”

”I’d be happy to oblige”

“Hm? Oh yeah, the Pokémon. Got Keine here, but guess I can go any tag along if you’re looking at a few more,” Mokou replied, patting the lone Pokeball at her waist before pocketing both of her hands again.

”I have also… picked up those two, though I am not sure if they are of the same species group as these pokemon” Edward added, gesturing over to his Traffikrab and Lunarpup companions as they ambled over to the fire to warm themselves in its glow.

“Hm… they do look of the element! This machine can tell us if they are not. It only holds the capability of scanning Pokémon at the moment, but I have been considering what can be done regarding upgrading it.” With that, Ramattra stopped the trio for a moment to flick out his device and scan the creature one after another… “No. It does not appear that my device recognizes their biology. They must be something other than a Pokémon.”

“Ah! But I almost forgot Edward, you asked me about my travels aboard that rogue space station, yes?” Ramattra chirped in, before resting himself upon his staff slightly. His injuries made him quite weak, but his stubbornness refused to allow him to lie idle for too long while his allies prepared to sleep. “We can discuss while we walk there. Tell me, what questions did you have?”

”Well, I suppose the simplest one would be what it was like?”

”Oh, but before we go, let me just set this up” Edward said, as a squad of golems finished filling up another pot with chopped up ice. Towards this he strode with an armory screen open, with which he summoned an entire barrel with of Emberbrand Wine which he nestled in between the chopped ice.

”It took quite a few golems falling into a pit or breaking apart on impact, but I managed to send some back down into the crypt to input that passcode you found. Seems to have been a larder, though the wine was all that had survived the ravages of time” He explained as he did this ”A little inebriation should help make up for the lesser conditions of tonight's rest”

“Ah, that old key? I’m glad you found some use out of it, though I obviously cannot participate in the rewards. The whole lack of mouth and whatnot.” Ramattra did not feel envious of their human celebrations, but sometimes he was curious what consumption was like… He did not need to eat to reserve energy, but sometimes those simple human desires felt so foreign to his mainframe. The Omnic nodded for Edward and Mokou to follow him outside of the cave.

“It was… Well, in all honesty, space was almost what I expected, though to someone like you, the idea of space travel must seem alien. It was emptiness, save for the common rock or space debris that hit me on the descent back to earth. I was lucky to have Mokou’s spacesuit to protect me while I saw the cosmos with my own eyes. Stars as far as your eyes could see… but everything else was obstructed by the space station… and that abomination that clung to it.” He shook his head. In his world, a threat like that would have been impossible to eliminate, yet Adam was able to destroy the Alpha Naytiba swiftly. “An odd mass of flesh, feather, scales… It was not our enemy to fight. Much power still exists in this world that is still beyond our strength.” Ramattra concluded his story with an air of genuine caution in his voice. Maybe with their collected forces and some sort of spacecraft, they could have defeated that monstrosity, but from a hindsight glance, Ramattra accepted that they would not have defeated the Naytiba without Adam’s assistance.

Edward, naturally, took notes as Ramattra spoke about space itself, but paused and thought for a moment regarding the Alpha Naytiba and saying ”I wonder why it was not used as a Guardian then. Logically, if Galeem made everything, and decides what defends its rule, it would pick the most powerful of its creations to do so. Perhaps there was some trick to it, same as the one we seek to slay has a weakness to exploit to make him far more asailable”

The Omnic shrugged, just as confused by the world’s logic. “Perhaps Galeem thinks he can keep his unwilling denizens content by providing them with fools' errands. It would be difficult to realize you’ve been brainwashed if your view has been narrowed to such minor conflicts.” Ramattra was unsure, but he traveled the frozen wastes for weeks in search of the region’s monastery before interacting with the Seekers. In truth, he doesn’t remember much before that and after being zapped into Galeem’s world.

His foot steps crunched oddly on the snow behind him as he left hundreds of 3-legged tracks towards the green-eyed (and now noseless) snowman that resided near their camp. “We’re here. Play it safe with the structures here… I don’t trust that snowman’s friendly expression.” The lake was completely frozen over, leaving zero signs of immediate wildlife underneath without drilling below the icy layer. Sliding over wet patches of ice, odd-looking penguin-Pokemon were playfully bumping into each other, while foolishly protecting their snow-crafted head. Ramattra stroked his chin at the collection of creatures. Was this a Pokémon? They shared a lot of the magic-creature motif that defined other Pokémon biologically, but was his assumption correct?

Carefully treading over the ice, Ramattra brought his dex out and carefully tapped the ice with one foot before each step. The creatures didn’t immediately start fleeing; however, they clearly became unnerved by The Omnic’s presence. He approached as quietly and slowly as he could, reaching a hand out to collect a handful of loose feathers from the ground of one of the curious beasts and scanning them into his pokedex. Perhaps this could come in handy to craft more creatures, and once Ramattra returned, he offered them to Edward. “These beasts come with such unique appearances. It looks like they just built a snowman on top of that penguin Pokémon.”

Edward, interestingly, seemed a little unnerved himself, his hands resting on the hilt and handle of blade and pistol. Still, he did move one, cautiously, away from his weapons to take the feathers for use in creature creation, while explaining that ”Dire Penguins are a blight upon many worlds in the astral sea"

Ramattra chuckled at Edward’s comment. It was a weird prospect for the Omnic needing to be wary around penguins. “I cannot say I share that sentiment in my world. Penguins are quite… boring in my home. Just flightless birds that live in arctic wastelands like this.” He carefully stepped off the ice as he guided the others slightly up the mountains incline, where a brush of trees concealed a group of small, rambunctious ice creatures that clambered together in playful battle.

“Ha! Look at the spunk on those little devils! It may be slightly difficult to get samples from these ones… Unless I could persuade them with a treat?” He had no more berries to give from his earlier collection, but Tenna had found food earlier, stashed away in abandoned suitcases… perhaps one would take interest in a granola bar?

Ramattra examined the group from afar, looking for any easier-to-attract beasts among the group. One stood out from the rest; an exceedingly aggressive-natured one that was now sitting, grumpily huffing towards a group of lone trees. This was the universal sign for “time-out”. The Omnic made a clicking noise to attract its attention, extending the snack out for the creature to examine. Skeptical, the creature sniffed the air slowly, skittishly approaching the Omnic with a curious, yet defensive “Daruuuu…”

“Yes, yes. No funny business. You get the snack, I scan you with my odd device, okay?” The creature seemed to sense a basic calmness from Ramattra’s speech as it grasped the bar. Ramattra clicked the device open one last time for the green beam to hover over the creature and input its data. “Darumaka, huh? Like Chinese good luck charms? Can’t say I see the resemblance, but oh well.” The creature scarfed the offering down chaotically, aggressively giving into its gluttony. The Ramattra chuckled at the scene before patting the creature on the head calmly, resulting in the Darumaka’s large eyes staring up at the Omnic, as if requesting more food.

“Darumakaka…” The creature threatened, stepping closer to Ramattra’s legs as it pawed at him impatiently.

“I like your attitude, little brash ice-thing.” As the Omnic shuffled away, shooing the creature, with the other two Seekers, it didn’t take them long to realize that the trio now had a friendly stalker, who crept into the cave unannounced and began warming its frigid body by the newly forged campfire.

Ramattra didn’t even realize they were followed until he turned in to meditate for the night atop one of the company’s sleeping bags, where the creature began imitating Ramattra alongside, waiting for the chance to be fed delicious adventure scraps once again… “Oh dear. It seems I brought along a straggler.”

---

---

---

While the rest of White Team explored or made preparations for the night, the lonely TV-host and his henchmen assisted in setting up camping and nighttime gear to assist with the comfort of the living situation. As he collected lanterns to post around the cave and rolled out sleeping bags, Tenna came to a crushing realization… The gear the group purchased in Snowdin only accounted for three-fourths of the group. Maybe some members didn’t require sleep to function, but a soft place to rest would surely help group morale?

It didn’t take the knack of adventuring knowledge to know how dangerous traveling this late would be. Tenna wasn’t as aware or prepared for traveling out of the cave’s safety as the rest of the Seekers were, but seeing some of the Seekers lying on the floor to rest for the night without at least the comfort of a sleeping bag was unbearable for the CRT. There had to be something more he could do. “Shadow Guys! At attention!” Tenna commanded as his minions huddled around their boss. “We need to search the area for sleeping supplies. We can’t have a proper sleepover without all our guests having sleeping bags!” The TV host wept playfully, guiding his henchmen out of the cave and down the hill of the mountain ever so slightly until they spotted something.

One of his Shadow Guys was the first to scout something out, alerting his boss and peer to an important landmark that may help them! It was unimpressive, but not too far from where the Seekers made base, a abandoned tent lay nearby, which had mostly been looted, as evident by the empty storage containers inside the camping structure. However, left behind were three tattered sleeping bags, matched with extra pillows and blankets… Along with a collection of abandoned straw that the missing travelers planned to use as bedding.

It wasn’t much, but it was sure to, at the very least, bring a bit more comfort to the cold, icy floor of the cave.

On the surface, finding Terry sounded like a fairly simple task, but there were a few factors at play that complicated things for Nadia and her two newest friends. For one, the feral didn’t really want to find any Seeker right now, except maybe Primrose, and Terry was at the top of her avoid list. It wasn’t because she couldn’t handle confrontation, or that the Hungry Wolf had been wrong to call her when he’d learned of her less-than-legal activities; in fact, it was probably because he’d been right. She’d made a serious mistake, maybe gotten people killed, and there was no surer reminder of her screw-up than seeing the face of her foremost accuser.

In a way, meeting his estranged grandkids was a stroke of bad luck, although Nadia wasn’t about to resent them. She didn’t even really resent Terry, even if the big doofus did make himself an easy target. She just resented her own impetuous idiocy, and her stubborn commitment to the bit that defined herself as a happy-go-lucky thief, even if Nadia wasn’t introspective enough to realize that. That she’d learned nothing from the mistake that cost the Fishbone Gang their lives. It was that very toxic thought that lingered just in her periphery, ever-so-slightly visible in the blind spot of her mind, that brought her the closest to despair this morning. If Nadia Fortune was going to continue functioning, as usual, a smile on her face as she reached out to seize victory within her grasp, she needed to fix her gaze straight ahead, and spare no second glance into those dreadful blind spots.

Despite Nadia’s efforts to distract Bart and Marg with a colorful tour of Esaka’s Low Tier, it didn’t take long at all for the charismatic twins, who applied their shtick to every knowledgeable-looking passer-by with the aggression of door-to-door salesmen, to dig up some information on their forebear. For better or worse, Terry Bogard was a name just about everyone knew. The controversial celebrity was to some a washed-up has-been, to others an industry plant thrust into undeserved relevance by outside interference, and to still others a beloved classic. Terry could be a hundred things to a hundred people, and opinion was even divided on which dojo he belonged to. Some claimed his allegiance lay with King of Fighters, Fighting EX Layer, or one of several lesser-known wolf-related dojos, but for the most part it sounded like the man could be found where his story began: Fatal Fury.

Getting there involved a trip up from the Low Tier through the Pools (now vacant except for fighters training, loitering yokai, and a few sightseers) and into the Middle Tier, and there the hunt began for the Fatal Fury dojo. Now that they had a destination in mind, the twins moved quickly, so Nadia played along. With her natural agility she had no trouble keeping up with the two and just as her trip toward Esaka along with Junior and Rika did yesterday morning, the trip quickly turned into a race through the city streets. Kids will be kids, Nadia figured. Maybe it wasn’t exactly normal for a grown woman like her to be spending time with children so often, but it helped her sustain her own youthful energy and paw-sitive outlook. Unlike last time, though, she pulled back as the three got closer to where their destination ought to be, allowing the twins to decide victory among themselves while she hung back to avoid being discovered. Her ‘disguise’, if she could even call it that, was far from foolproof, after all, and if Terry was nearby, his teammates for the King of Fighters tournament might be here too.

Now in a more run-down part of the Middle Tier, Bart and Marg cut through a couple buildings and reached the scrapyard that neighbored the Fatal Fury at exactly the same time, neck-and-neck as they dashed through the final stretch toward the dojo. Around them, large pieces of old junk and rejected materials lay piled around rusted steel beams, with heavy machinery like excavators rising from the heaps of raw metal and wood with clawed arms like the necks of serpentine leviathans. Thanks to the motorcar massacre perpetuated yesterday by team Seekers of Fight, there were plenty of new auto wrecks in the scrapyard as well, and a couple of fighters interested in them.

In fact, the well-dressed twins were so focused on their race that they didn’t notice one man in front of them until they vaulted over the husk of a SWAT van and bounced off the absurdly massive trapezius muscles of a hulking eight-foot giant with a maple leaf flat-top and biceps so gargantuan that tires fit snugly around them. Bart and Marg hit the ground in front of this behemoth, skidded to a stop in the dust, and half-turned around, alarmed by his appearance. For a brief moment, Abigail just stared at them, his mouth agape. Then he let out the last noise that either of them expected.

“VuvuvuvuvuvuvuVROOOOOOOOM!”

He stumbled forward, pantomiming a steering wheel between his hands, veering left and right before finalizing a straight path toward the twins who stood frozen in bafflement. He stomped on an imaginary brake pedal right in front of them, went, “BRRRRRRRRRT!” and reached out to snatch them with mitts bigger than either of their heads. “Abi-GAIL!” The twins dodged backward just in time. As they slid to a stop their faces turned from terror into determination as each clasped a hand around his or her golden watch.

Behind Abigail, Nadia leaped up onto the roof of the SWAT van, her keen senses already attuned to danger. “What’s all this shout- HOLY SHIT THAT GUY’S HUGE!”

She stood with eyes wide as saucers, shaking her head to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, but after several blinks the brute was still there, back and bigger than ever. Nadia raised her hand and sharpened her claws. “Purr-haps you guys need a little hand?”

Bart and Marg grinned at her. “This is the city of fighters, isn’t it?” the former asked.

“As newbies, it’s up to us to prove ourselves!” the latter declared. She turned her watch’s dial, then spread her arms, expanding a bubble of amber energy that formed a dodecahedron shield around her and Bart. The next second, her brother followed suit with his own Fortified Wager, doubling their shields. Behind them shimmered the image of casino tokens piled high, although to Nadia they looked like giant golden coins. “And as always, we think big!”

With an ugly smile Abigail flexed his enormous arms, straining his tire accessories almost to the point of bursting. Eyebrows raised at the twins’ confidence, Nadia crossed her arms and stood by to watch. Most Lost Numbers shrank from battle, fighting only when absolutely necessary, yet these kids were ready to risk their lives for nothing. Just what were they trying to prove? The feral couldn’t help but be curious. “If ya say so, go ahead…car-umple him!”

---

It took a little help from Ileum, but Band eventually made his way up to the Middle Tier from the Pools, where he parked his heavy chassis on a sturdy stone bench near the precipice. He’d managed to deliver a spectacular and decisive beatdown to that braggart Balrog, then put on a brave face for the crowd, but after that last duel the detective was well and truly done for the day. There was no gas left in his tanks, and even if Balrog hadn’t been that close to victory in either round, those last few dirty blows he’d hammered Band with had done a real number on him. The blood loss from his nose alone was enough to leave him light-headed, which was easier than one might suspect since what remained of his real body didn’t have all that much blood. Most of him ran on B♭, an experimental oil mixture. His iron lung still had plenty of that, for all the good it did him; if nothing else, Balrog had figured out just where to hurt him.

Band spent a while sitting there, just resting as he took in the marvelous vista before him. Now that evening was in full swing, the setting sun glittered off the water of the Pools, and the Low Tier below it bustled with activity. A thousand woks sizzled with seed oils as sweatband-clad cooks stir-fried vegetables, meat, and rice, and noodlemasters prepared miso, soy, and pork bone broth for savory ramen noodles. As they awaited their orders or paused between sips of sake and beer, restaurant customers excitedly discussed the day’s standings. By now, all the competitors’ results from their Pools matches today had been thoroughly tabulated. Most of Esaka’s fighters had already drowned in pools, most figuratively, though the Mortal Kombat qualifiers had indeed claimed a number of lives already. Just another day in Esaka.

He almost didn’t notice when Ileum returned, her footfalls naturally soft. In one hand she carried a medical kit, and by the time Band turned to face her, she’d already popped it open. “Thanks, Ileum,” he told her with a smile of resignation. Before she left he’d insisted that Stanley or Coyle could pound out the dents Balrog left in him back at base, but Ileum insisted on tending to his human parts. He tried not to flinch as she dabbed at his bruised, lacerated, and bloody face with some medicine-soaked pads. Even after all this time, that kind of solution still stung.

It was easy to imagine that only a kind personality and sense of motherly duty motivated Ileum, but it tempted Band to read more into her actions, especially after that good-luck kiss. On one hand, he couldn’t deny that it made for a good narrative. The two most veteran agents of ASG Lab 8, the de facto ‘mom and dad’ of all the little ones, unlucky in love all their lives, rejected by society and modified beyond recognition but united in common cause, together again at last. On the other hand, how could anything come of this? A sentient pile of guts in a see-through, woman-shaped sleeve and a cyborg quadriplegic in a mobile iron lung, torn between loyalties to found family and greater good, to say nothing of Galeem and the Life Service.

Band stared at Ileum’s mask as she tended him, unable to see her gaze or expression. Maybe she also realized just how futile this was. But both of them were mature enough to see past the melodrama and realize that all bonds eventually got ground to dust beneath the wheel of time, and that in spite of the futility, even the smallest, most impermanent fragment of warmth was worth holding on to. This soothing sunset was a stolen moment, seized by two unusual people from the relentless river of life, and it was theirs to keep in the vault called memory..

If Big Band was more creative, he figured that this would be something worth writing a song about. Then again, plaintive moments like these were probably popular subject matter in the Blues genre, so his saxophone would have no shortage of songs.

He had no idea how long it was before Ileum finally leaned back and asked, “How are you feeling?”

Band swallowed and put on a smile. “Better.”

With a satisfied nod, Ileum adopted a more relaxed sitting position on the bench beside him. “Good. What’s next?”

“Sorry, but I’ve got to get in touch with my team,” the detective told her with a sigh. “It’s been a busy day, and after what happened last night, keepin’ up with everyone’s more important than ever.”

Although Ileum seemed to have a subtle air of disappointment around her, she gave an understanding nod. “Alright. I’d better get back to Lab 8 and the littles. It isn’t easy with this body, but I’ve been getting better and better at cooking. Tonight is a macaroni casserole. The kids love it.”

“Mm-mm. Kids got me jealous,” Band joked.

Ileum tilted her head. “Where are you staying?”

Good question, the detective thought. The ruins he’d inhabited last night hadn’t exactly been comfortable, or safe for that matter. Fortunately, a better option had already presented itself. “Lab 8, if I can. Don’t got a whole lotta options.”

“I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say you’re more than welcome,” Ileum told him.

“Right on.” Band couldn’t imagine any of his old compatriots objecting, although the thought of sleeping somewhere Coyle had access to did not spark joy. With a groan, the detective got to his feet, and Ileum rose alongside him. “See ya soon then, Il. Save me a li’l casserole, will ya?”

The medic waved at him as she sauntered away. “I’ll try.”

Band turned and gazed out across the Forbidden Kingdom for a few moments, heaved a sigh, then activated his linkpearl. “Hey, y’all. It’s gettin’ to be time for another all-hands check-in. Sound good, Pit?” He had no reason to think that Gold Team’s captain would disagree. “Anywhere sound like a good place to meet up? Keepin’ it low-key in the Low Tier seems smart, but I’d advise against frequentin’ Pao Pao too often.” He kept the line open as he stared off into the distance, ready to note down who picked up his collect call.



Just after Dragunov made his implicit threat, the interior of the Infinite-tea beverage shop began to fill up with non-customers following in Grima’s footsteps. A third person showed up at Chloe’s table as another newcomer lurked nearby, only increasing the undercover pop star’s anxiety as she learned that whoever these people were, they did not act with discretion. Then again, could she really assume that they were all on the same side? Kim’s manner was completely different compared to Grima’s, by-the-book and reassuring rather than sly and unnerving, and the two gave no sign of familiarity. This could be a good cop, bad cop routine, or maybe Chloe just had the worst luck out of anyone in Esaka. With Dragunov staring her down, it was hard to think otherwise.

The cold-hearted Russian’s behavior certainly got Grima’s blood boiling, though. He did not flinch, scarcely even blinking, when the vessel offered him scathing derision, as if he were made of stone rather than flesh and blood. Grima rose with her malicious intent for the icy man clear as day, drawing worried looks from all directions. Dragunov said nothing, but after a tense moment turned and strode toward the door. Once outside, he stood with his back facing Grima, as if daring her to try and deal him an underhanded strike from behind. Even if no words passed his lips, his subtle ready stance said give me your worst.

Inside, Chloe appeared relieved to have both Grima and Dragunov away from her, though that didn’t mean she trusted Kim. More than anything, she was worried that her cover had been blown by the scene the others nearly caused, and she seemed eager to slip out of the store and beat a hasty retreat toward the comfort of her security team. “That guy’s seriously scary,” she confided to Kim, unable to restrain her nervous energy. “I’ve never heard him say a word. All I know is he works for G-Corp.” She fidgeted in her seat, ready to hurry out the moment the coast looked clear.



While most members of the expedition put in a good effort to make the cave more habitable, including campfires, tents, sleeping bags, automatic defenses, and so forth, it was still an ice-cold cave at the end of the day. Unsurprisingly, few slept very well. Heismay in particular fared poorly since he could not effectively deaden the noise that the echo-prone cave walls amplified, although an ample serving of the wine recovered by Edward with Ramattra’s key helped suppress the stress he’d accrued from his last fight. He was pretty used to sleeping poorly at this point in his life, but it still wasn’t very pleasant. At the very least, neither he nor the others went to bed hungry. The grand feast back at the Christmas Village had satisfied most everyone, and if someone did still end up needing a midnight snack, rations, foraged produce, and leftover foodstuffs were plentiful enough in the stagecoach’s ice box that hunger was the least of the Seekers’ concerns.

Of course, being inside the cave still turned out to be vastly preferable to being outside. Without any sunlight to bring up the ambient temperature for many days now, the temperature continued to fall outside, made all the worse by biting, howling winds. Fortunately the outside world didn’t have much more in store for the cave inhabitants than that. Though Blazermate’s sentry turret did beep a couple times during the wintry night when it detected some creature or another moving out in the gulch, it never opened fire at any enemies attempting to assault the Seekers in their sleep. That meant that everyone could do their best to tune out the frigid gale outside, as well as the subtle vibrations and shifting sounds from the ground beneath them, and try their best to sleep through the night.

Until about five in the morning, that is. At a certain point, the subtle sounds and shifts in the cave floor ramped up to a point where they could no longer be ignored. The ground was shaking; the rock was rumbling. Those disturbed to wakefulness but the tremor, like Heismay, quickly moved to alert the others, but the situation deteriorated with shocking speed. Cracks opened in the earth, spreading and forking like lightning, and in a cacophony of yells and shattering earth the cave began to collapse.



Those unable to fly and catch themselves plummeted down through a huge cavern with walls of icy blue rock in a deluge of rock and stone. They hurtled past amazing naturally-formed bridges, stalactites the size of trees, and luminescent formations of red crystal sugar to land in soft, downy drifts of incredibly deep snow. Heismay managed to spread his wings and glide out of the rubble shower about halfway down, which gave him ample time to gape in horrified wonderment at the sheer size of the frozen hollow into which everyone had tumbled. When he saw other Seekers go splat into the snow, he feared the worst, but the sight of their heads poking up through the powder a few seconds later meant he could breathe a sigh of relief. Heismay steered himself down toward where most of the heroes had fallen and landed gently atop a rock, next to a spiky bulb that might have been some alien plant. “Is everyone alive?”

Miraculously, everyone seemed to be more or less unharmed, thanks to the thick blanket of snow. Just how many eons had it accumulated there, perfectly undisturbed, only to save a handful of lives now? It was too late for Heismay to thank his lucky stars, though. Once his heart stopped pounding so much, his keen ears could hear the hair-raising skitter of countless legs. When he turned his eyes toward the walls and vaulted ceiling of the immense cavern, the sight of hundreds of monstrous shapes marching down toward the fallen Seekers in droves left him aghast. Most he couldn’t make out clearly, but he could see a number of larger, lighter-colored bugs within the swarm, their bulbous abdomens aglow with cryogenic chemicals. Whatever they were, they were coming, and it would be long before even more dangerous specimens reared their ugly heads to fire volleys of corrosive slime from afar.

“Make ready for battle!” Heismay yelled as he shook off the last vestiges of sleep, his voice echoing through the cave. He looked around wildly at the others, trying to get a sense of who was ready to fight and their combat positions. In so doing, he spotted the wreckage of what had to be Sandalphon’s tent, with her sleeping bag visible, half-buried in the snow and only identifiable thanks to the halo floating overhead. With no signs of her struggling inside the bag, he wondered if the archangel had been knocked out by the fall.

Right now, the Seekers were in disarray, but there were a couple spots around the cavern where heat seemed to well up from underground vents, surrounded by lush burgundy vegetation. On the other hand, there were a few vents belting out ice-cold air as well, which would make fighting in their vicinity a lot harder. Blade in hand, Heismay turned to face the incoming tide of glyphids, hoping that their numbers meant they were individually weak. “We fight for our lives! Raaaaaaah!” the eugief roared.

A few seconds later, the horde was upon them. Heismay leaped forward, springboarding off the first glyphid in order to descend on one behind it with an inverted sword plunge through its middle. He yanked it out messily, killing the thing, then swept around to chop off another grunt’s leg and head with a one-two slash. Another tried to slash him with its leg from behind, only for its limb to glance off his sword, held behind him in a back-facing block. A quick spin kick to the maw knocked the glyphid aside, allowing Heismay to finish it with a neat decapitation. Finally, as more bugs closed in, he vaulted backward and executed a downward crescent slash mid-spin to slice apart the glyphid he’d bounced off in the first place. As he landed, a Frost Praetorian shouldered its kindred aside to lumber toward him. Heismay took a deep breath and readied himself for more.

The moment of satisfaction Amaterasu felt at a job well done was nice while it lasted, but it came to an end when she noticed their little group was still missing a member. Obviously she’d know Terry hadn’t been with them in the fight, or done much before it, but she assumed that now that things were resolved he’d snap out of his stupor/thoughtful reprieve and come join them.

Thus, when he didn’t she grew worried, and paused the world in order to use the third person view of the canvas she had rendered to look over the heads of the crowd. She first checked where he had been. Nothing. Then scanned through the crowd. Again. Nothing.

That… was not good.

She gave a bark at Harry before scampering through the crowd to the spot he had been, where she sniffed at the ground, trying and failing to pick out his scent, but among all of the other people and the exhaust fumes it was rather hopeless.

Harry had put away his flask when he noticed Ammy starting to bark at him. “What’s wrong girl? Timmy stuck in a well? You ate a whole wheel of cheese? Wow, that’s really impressive. You know I don’t speak Spanish. Speak English.” Of course, it just occurred to him that the wolf couldn’t speak at all. He started following Ammy to the location, watching her sniff the area.

His Inland Empire was speaking to him, allowing him to connect with what Ammy was thinking. His Visual Calculus is rebuilding the scene and trying to figure out where Terry was.

The two had no luck, however, and with calling not working, and Captain Falcon on the hunt at the likely spots he might have returned to, the pair were left with only one possibility: that the man had headstrong stormed off to give G-Corp a piece of his mind.

Eventually, the two reached G-Corp Headquarters. Unlike Ms Fortune, who’d stolen from the building yesterday, Amaterasu and Harry had no reference what it should look like. Outwardly, it did not seem meaningfully different from any of the High Tier’s other tall, concrete-and-glass office buildings, and it lacked any kind of logo or signage, so neither Seeker could identify it at a glance. They could, however, use context clues, and the fact that the building itself and the area around it looked like a warzone helped clue them in.

Most obvious were the huge holes that gutted the building, more prevalent toward the lower floors, that suggested the detonation of several explosions. It wouldn’t be much of a leap to assume that G-Corps remaining Jack-5s, with their built-in bombs authorized ahead of time, were responsible. With how many and how big they were, it was a wonder that the skyscraper still stood. Furthermore, the structure had been punched, kicked, chopped, clawed, shot, bombarded, and more by dozens of attackers throughout the day, leaving so much concrete debris and broken glass nearby that just walking in the building’s vicinity felt like navigating over crunchy snow.

Apparently the conflict only intensified when G-Corp’s neighbors, located near the nefarious corporation through no fault of their own, got involved to try and minimize collateral damage. Some quick inquiries indicated that the jury was still out on whether or not Kazuya had been dealt with and Heihachi’s bounty claimed, despite a few fighters’ assertions otherwise. As the number of casualties in the communal assault mounted throughout the day, the overall aggression had petered out, with those who remained more or less under the impression that G-Corp was toast.

Harry looked up at the massive holes that were littered all over the skyscrapers. “S***” He muttered under his breath as he started asking around about what happened. And if they had seen a muscular blonde man around.

Ammy tried to sniff him out as well, but with all the lingering dust, blood and smoke she didn’t like her odds. It was also likely tricky business, given she wanted to sniff around the place where the fighting had happened and that meant both being on high alert for any danger, and careful to avoid cutting her bare paws on shards glass and the like.

As the two got closer to the building to continue their investigation, a different burly blonde, dressed like a riot cop, was giving his report nearby. He was speaking to a woman in futuristic cherry-red armor plates over a form-fitting gray undersuit, her face hidden by a tall helmet and her chestplate dominated by a glowing purple core. She stood with her arms crossed as she absorbed the details, her violet gaze cold and steady.

Harry stared at the building's destruction before realizing why they were there. He made his way over towards the blonde man who definitely wasn’t Terry. “Excuse me, my name is Harry Dubois with the RCM. I am here to help with this investigation. So what is the situation?” He flashed his RCM badge at the blonde man. His eyes briefly looked over at the scary-looking woman.

“RCM?” Kevin Rian asked, his tone a little incredulous, as if asking why should that hold any weight here? “Who-”

When Harry’s gaze met hers, the woman’s eyes narrowed. She held out a hand to halt the policeman’s response. “Thank you, officer. You’re dismissed.” With a shrug, Kevin turned away, allowing the Consul to face Harry alone. “You’re destoried,” she remarked matter-of-factly. This matter seemed to completely override anything to do with G-Corp. “When, where, how, and by whom?”

Amatarasu, having split off a little from Harry, did her best to keep acting natural even as she turned her own eyes away from the woman to hide her own nature. It was tricky to approach like that, but she did her best to navigate by her other senses, taking a lazy circle of a stroll towards the two, ready to leap into action if need be.

Internally she cursed herself for not putting two and two together when it came to the descriptions of Consul armor and this woman’s own. She could only hope Harry could talk his way out of this, otherwise they might just have blown the Seeker’s already flimsy cover.

“Revachol Citizens Militia.” Harry said to Kevin before putting away his badge. Thinking that this scary woman was the one calling the shots. Or perhaps she was working with G-Corp; he wasn’t sure just yet. “That is what I wanna know as well. I have a few theories, but I wanna hear your thoughts first.” He had a few ideas on who could be behind the bombing.

The Consul narrowed her eyes, more bemused than annoyed. “My thoughts are immaterial to you,” she informed Harry icily. “If you are truly ignorant to the circumstances of your own awakening, there is little to be done but return you to the cycle.” She lifted her hand and splayed her fingers as if to summon a weapon there and then, in the middle of a crowded street, but after a few purple sparks danced between her digits she lowered her arm. “Then again, it is of no consequence. Time will claim you, and we have all the time in the world.”

By the time she’d changed her mind, however, Ammy had already lunged into motion. Pausing only to draw two horizontal lines on the world to slow time, the divine wolf darted in at quadruple speed, hauled Harry onto her back, and then drew the same to lines to extradite him from the situation in a blur of motion.

Consul E watched, impassive, as the detective and wolf beat a hasty retreat. She her eyes followed them until they disappeared from sight, and after lingering on their last known position for a few moments, she warped away in a shower of purple particles.

Primrose had been to the High Tier already during her initial look through Esaka. She's spent that entire first day with Therion trying to get the lay of the city, but it was a large place. Even in the tiers she'd been spending more time in she still noticed new things. So the High Tier, while not a completely new experience, still had a lot of surprises in store for those who went looking for them.

However, Primrose was not looking for them. Not really. She passed the evidence of a few scenes of excitement in the tier that she suspected might have a few fellow Seekers involved (buzz of activity around an opera house, a crowd's chatter about a coffee challenge gone wrong), but she did not linger around these places for long. She wasn't avoiding her comrades, but if they were doing some kind of investigation into G-Corp then she wouldn't want to get in their way. She hadn't been privy to whatever they'd all discussed at that lunch meeting after all.

So the dancer made her way through the upper echelon of the city until she was at its center, where yet another wall stood tall. Above them, the Top Tier, and the quartet of sky scrapers that made up the whole of that level. She'd seen it the day before, looking up from the same perspective, along with the lift fit into the wall that separated it from the tier below. Today that lift seemed to have extra security around it, but not as much as Primrose expected. The city's tyrants must have just been that confident in themselves.

In the shade of a nearby awning, Primrose gazed up at Esaka's tallest buildings. If the Four Kings were that sure in their own strength, then she wondered if an infiltration plan like she and Therion had tossed around before might actually still work. She had no illusions of giving it a shot then, but she had wanted to get a look at those towers again for herself after the morning's announcement. She wasn't truly lost in thought, always with one eye or ear on her surroundings, but she must have appeared that way to others.

"Thinking about getting up to trouble?"

Primrose smoothly turned towards the voice to find a woman in uniform not far away. She stood with one hand on her hip and one eyebrow raised high, genuinely curious to know the answer.

Primrose took a moment before replying to look the woman up and down (though it covered her from neck to toe, that combat suit left little to the imagination) before she plastered a thin, cordial smile onto her face.

"Not at all, officer..." she said. Even if she was not familiar with the uniform itself, she'd spent long enough in the world to pick up context clues and put them together. "Just a fan wanting to get a look at the final stages before the week's end."

The blonde gave a short nod. "I get it, the wall can get pretty packed during championships even though you can watch it on every screen in the city."

Then, her face cracked into a small, somewhat impish grin.

"Not that I'd care much if you were planning something. I'm not the only one that'd like to see those dickwads taken down a peg or three."

Primrose tipped her slightly to one side, a little show of confusion to which the uniformed woman waved away with her free hand.

"I'm not part of their security detail, just killing time keeping some peace up here while the bounty's still live. Also, I'm a commander - special forces, not a cop."

"Pardon me then," Primrose replied. She got the gist. The commander shrugged to imply it wasn't a big deal, but Primrose's sharp eyes could tell that for her, it most certainly was. She probably wouldn't have brought it up otherwise.

Primrose considered giving the woman a friendly goodbye and then making her way elsewhere, but it wasn't like she had anywhere to be. She was effectively doing the same thing that the stranger was, killing some time. So instead Primrose turned entirely towards the blonde, made some space under the awning, and struck up a little conversation with her latest acquaintance who was happy to chat up anyone.

"Well, commander..." she started, and the woman swiftly offered, "Cage."

"Commander Cage. It's been a slow day for you then? I can only imagine what sort of trouble you'd normally be handling."

"Oh you don't know the half of it," Cage said with a grin, joining Primrose in the shade. "Let's see, what's not confidential... Oh, man, lately there's been a guy making chimeras to fight with. Nasty stuff, been looking into him for a couple weeks now. It's not technically not tourney legal to have a proxy fight in your place, but it doesn't usually fly. So we figure he's gotta be using the chimeras for something else, right? Some kinda underground monster fight club I'd guess, since he's been selling these freaks of nature. Found some evidence for something like that around the Low Tier and yeesh, whatever he's got going on has definitely got to be illegal somewhere."

"Chimeras? How would one even make them?" Primrose asked, brows raised in light surprise. She hadn't thought that Esaka leaned far into either the technical or the magical, but perhaps with bring one huge melting pot of fighting backgrounds there were bound to be people that could set up a workshop like that. Then again... If someone was combining monsters together with a method as simple as spirit fusion, that was another thing entirely. Was there someone already destoried in the city before the Seekers had arrived, or someone who'd just happened to stumble upon the fusion method without a full grasp of what they were doing?

Cassie Cage didn't seem overly concerned with these details, though. "Not sure yet. Wouldn't be surprised if he had some kind of lab on the outskirts though, he wouldn't be the first one."

She shuffled closer to Primrose and pulled a smartphone from her pocket, along with a packet of pink gum. She pulled a stick out of the latter, unwrapped it and tossed the piece into her mouth before offering one to Primrose, who took one but did not mimic the commander. The two woman leaned in to peer at the phone screen as Cassie brought up a grainy video. In it, a robed and hooded man stood in front of a hunched over dragonoid. It was apparently a sale, but it was cut before any conclusion, stopped on a still image of the chimera-maker. It was difficult to make out any details.

"I know, hashtag suuuuspicious, but keep an eye out," Cassie commented following the pop of her gum bubble bursting. She sucked it back in, pulled her phone back towards her and started scrolling. "What other weird stuff have we got..."

She spoke with a casual cadence, but with body language that made it clear she was entirely the professional she was dressed like. A young woman who took her job seriously but liked to talk and have fun. Primrose listened to a few stories that Cassie made seem outlandish, but that the dancer thought might be more common than one might first expect. Still, it was interesting to learn about all the strange things that Cassie had encountered in just Esaka alone. Primrose was content just to listen and ask a few questions, offer a few comments just to keep her latest acquaintance assured that she was enjoying the stories, and after some time one of the communicators Cassie carried started to emit a soft but constant beeping.

The special forces commander raised her head and spit her chewed gum in an arc that landed in the nearest trash bin before she pocketed her phone and gave Primrose a smile and a mock salute.

"Sounds like duty calls," she said.

"I look forward to future stories~"

It was unlikely she'd run into the blonde again, but you never knew. She watched Cassie jog off somewhere then cast her gaze back up to the towers above. Not long after, she heard the chime of a call of her own in her ear, saving her from pondering what she was going to do next.




The kombat partners split up with Sakura outside of the photography hobby shop, citing a few things they had to do before the day came to a close. Of course this came following a promise to hang out with the street fighter more later.

The talk with Sakura had pretty much convinced Pit that his thought to free his and Amaterasu's fellow dojo members was worth putting into plan, and then into practice - but he wanted the goddess on board, so at the very least it most likely wouldn't be tonight. He'd toured the lower tiers earlier with the royal siblings and Ashrah separately, so he had a decent idea of the food and lodging situation... sort of. He still had two gifts to give out, but he was sure he'd see the recipients later when everyone met up again. He'd invited Ashrah to said inevitable meet up, but she had politely declined.

So the last things to squeeze into the day before Pit and Ashrah went their separate ways for the night called for a return to the Order of Light dojo.

Pit once again peeked in through the outer windows as the two of them came up on the Mid Tier dojo, squinting into the dimly lit interior through slightly dusty glass that made the whole place look old.

"This is like the most dojo-y dojo I've ever seen," the angel said. He hadn't been inside, just looked in, and just like the first time he'd been interested in how stereotypical it looked. In a good way. Traditional and ancient feeling and cool.

"Most dojo-y...?"

"Mhm, with the mats and the dragons and the scrolls and everything!"

"I see. It was founded in part by a god from Earthrealm when the split from the Mortal Kombat dojo happened. It's a popular look there, I'm told."

Pit nodded, looked over at Ashrah, and then blinked in surprised to find her standing with the door held open and looking at him expectantly.

"Shall we?"

Pit beamed and dashed inside, quickly slowing to a halt in the center of the wide room. He spun in a slow circle to get a good look at everything before nodding again. Yup, the quintessential dojo look. Briefly he wished he could have joined up with the Order from the get go, but Fight of Gods had turned out to be pretty good in its own right. One thing it had over the Order of Light was the jovial atmosphere, likely helped by its roster of over the top gods. Compared to its Low Tier counterpart, the Order's dojo was a ghost town.

"Where is everyone?"

"Training on their own I suspect. We come together for meetings and sparring, but not many use the dojo as a... hang out spot."

The way the last few words awkwardly tumbled from her mouth made Pit laugh, though he suppressed it after a moment as Ashrah continued. "I wouldn't be surprised if you, Sareena, and I are the only ones present."

It was a little disappointing that he wouldn't be able to meet the rest of the Order of Light, but Pit didn't mind that much. Sareena did not keep the partners waiting either, as she'd come up from the dojo's lower levels when she heard voices above.

"Welcome back," she said. Her own voice was hard, but she seemed to have calmed down since the afternoon so that was probably how she always spoke. Her black eyes swapped from Pit, to Ashrah, and back. "Let's not waste time. While the fight is fresh in my mind, I'll drill you."

Pit was on the verge of letting out a sigh at having to get right down to business, but Ashrah held up a palm before that.

"Actually sister, we were going to spar for better synergy," she said. With a small smile that was almost teasing she added, "since we won't be able to face you in Mortal Kombat, perhaps you would like to help us out with a battle now?"

At that the angel perked up, looking at Sareena with a lot more eagerness than moments ago. Sareena let out a light snort.

"Oh, I would. And it would be more efficient to learn while we fight. Like the Earthrealm expression: two birds with one bush."

"It's with one stone. And by the way, I never liked that saying."

An unfamiliar laugh echoed up from the stairwell that Sareena had emerged from, followed by the sound of footsteps and a matching voice. "I have got to see this."

A man in battle-ready red appeared a moment later in the doorway. He made to nod in greeting, but was surprised to see just who the kombat partner Ashrah had talked about was.

"Kai," the demonness ended up greeting first, tipping her head and removing her hat as she did so.

"Kai?"

"Another member of the Order, and my kameo partner," Sareena clarified, and only a little bitterly muttered, "however briefly."

The man, Kai, strode into the room and put his fists together in front of his chest, bowing lightly to Ashrah and Pit. "That's me. Welcome back, and nice to meet you... Pit, right?"

"Yep! Nice to meet you too!" The angel somewhat clumsily copied Kai's greeting. When they both straightened up, it was apparent that the two teams stood on opposite sides of the dojo floor. Pit could tell where this was going, so he pushed the boxes he still had to one side.

Kai glanced at Sareena. "You're about to spar? How about keeping me as your kameo partner for another hour then, what do you say?"

The demon scoffed, but ultimately turned from Kai to the pair across from them.

"I suppose it's better to get as close to a real match as possible. Fine." She took a fighting stance, and at her side Kai backed up a few steps and assumed his own stance, one palm with curled fingers facing their opponents and one held up over his head, his own shaolin kung fu style. Sareena raised her chin. "Prepare yourselves, I intend to be strict in my teaching."

One their side of the dojo, Pit and Ashrah had already assumed their own positions. Ashrah's kris was in her hand, and the two halves of the Palutena Bow were in Pit's. A practical lesson was way better than just trying to remember everything that Sareena would have told him, and it really was time saving to spar at the same time. And though Pit seemed an endless font of energy, he did hope that this would be the last battle he fought today - something friendly, and maybe even fun.

On that note he didn't bother stopping himself from quipping with a playful grin, "You better not hold back, I've been told I'm not the best student."

In reply Sareena only smirked. A breath later and she'd vanished, instantly putting Pit on edge. She reappeared in a plume of flame directly above him, falling hard with a pair of sharpened kama. The steel caught on Pit's bow, the angel snapping it together and throwing his arms up to block the strike. Without a word Sareena swung her legs into an aerial crouch, stamping on the bow and leaping back up. Pit released the bow with one hand, drawing back the ethereal string in the same motion as he summoned a light arrow–

"Guh!" a pillar of fire exploded beneath him, throwing him from his feet and into the air. In his peripheral he could see Kai winding down after using the attack, but he hadn't even seen him move initially. He hadn't heard Sareena call for him either!

Pit barely had time to catch himself with his wings before Sareena was back, aggressively slicing with her kama as gravity took both of them. Sparks formed where the weapons collided, countering, parrying, and lashing out at each of the wielders. Just before they hit the ground the two kombatants broke apart, Sareena landing nimbly on one knee and rising up smoothly while Pit landed on his feet and skidded backward. The demon tossed her blades up in front of her and caught them with opposite hands before resetting her stance.

"You'll have to contend with much stronger aerials than this. You'd better improve your air game by tomorrow."

She suddenly thrust her hand out, and reflexively Pit summoned an Orbitar in preparation for a projectile. It never came - instead a smoldering ring formed at his feet and began to drain his energy, not to mention heat up the room. Meter drain?! Is that legal? Pit thought. There was nothing but his stamina to drain, but even so he wasn't about to let that happen. When he moved to hop out of the ring he was stopped by another appearance from Kai as the martial artist darted in, striking with a fist cloaked in his own flame to shove the angel back into the burning circle. Anticipating that Pit would try and exit from the opposite away from her kameo, Sareena dropped power to the spell and rushed in while it was petering out. She swung both kama in a powerful horizontal slash, though this time she met only crackling air.

Pit stood facing her, now a few feet away. "That's just mean," he said, though it was through a toothy smile.

Sareena did not dignify that with a response. She shot towards him, though this time Pit called out for his kameo. "Ashrah!" The demon leapt in between them, meeting her sister's blades with her own. At the same time Pit leapt too, planning to go over Ashrah's head and come down on Sareena with a double chop of his own. Airborne, he had a good view of a suspicious flicker of fire at Sareena's shoulder, and a moment later there was a flash of heat as Kai jumped in with a flaming kick to intercept Pit. Both kameos retreated, leaving the main kombatants to stare each other down.

"Alternate ways of signalling your partner - you'll see more tomorrow. People that have fought together often may even know just when to jump in without any kind of tell."

If the demon sisters were usually each other's partners, then Pit had to wonder how much practice Sareena and Kai had put in before now. Their fire signals seemed seamless to him. He readied himself for the next lesson, swatting away a fireball that Sareena had shot at him.

"How many fire moves have you guys got?!"

A wicked smile came to Sareena's face, and the source of her little flames became apparent as a flaming spaded tail unfolded from her back. "Don't worry, you haven't even begun to sweat!"

---

"Bwah!" Pit gasped as he yanked his head out of the basin of water that the Order of Light members had provided for him after the sparring was done. Half of it had been swallowed, and the rest just used to cool down. "She was right! It's like a sauna in here now!"

He felt sticky and uncomfortably warm, which had worrying implications for future visits to hot springs, but he hoped that the combo of hell fire and kung fu fire was just that much hotter and he wouldn't have to give up one of his favorite pastimes.

Ashrah had taken a seat on the ground nearby using her hat to fan both herself and the angel, although she was holding up much better than he was. "I've never faced both of them at the same time before. A formidable kombination. Though I believe they were venting some of their frustration about dropping into the Losers' Bracket out on us."

That Pit definitely agreed with. He nodded and curled around the cool water vessel until perking up again when Ashrah turned to him with a question.

"But it was enlightening for you, I hope?"

"Definitely. We should come up with some secret signals too!"

Ashrah smiled. Perhaps they should, though it wouldn't be something they could develop and memorize easily within a night. Pit had gotten to his feet and offered her a hand up which she took. "It will have to be something you can do swiftly, but that's easy to remember. If you think of something let me know as soon as possible."

"Sure, I will," Pit said. He glanced out the window, just barely able to see the sunset sky from between the neighboring buildings outside. Sareena and Kai had retired after more sparring than expected, and Ashrah was soon to join them. Which left Pit, pleasantly sore but already recovering, who should be getting on his way. "For now I'll call everyone else and meet up. Are you sure you don't want to come?"

She was, though she saw him to the door and reminded him of their meeting point for tomorrow's Pools matches before disappearing inside of the dojo.

Just as Pit raised a hand to his ear to activate the linkpearl, the device buzzed with Big Band's voice coming through. It was a nice surprise, and Pit grinned into the open air as he replied.

"You beat me to it! Yeah, Gold Team meeting! I think I know a place, I'll let you all know where it is once I find it again. Attendance mandatory!"

He ran off to try and locate some of the places he'd passed earlier in the day. Was it in the Low Tier? He wasn't entirely sure, but it wouldn't be that bad to pick somewhere else, would it? The former detective might want to keep things low key, but eventually all of the Seekers fighting would be celebrities anyway so long as they kept on winning.

Eventually Pit's search bore fruit. Honestly he didn't even recall if this was the place he'd been thinking of, but it was kind of close. And it didn't stand out too much, given it had been a little bit of a pain to find. The restaurant was unassuming from outside, a Japanese styled eatery with painted cloth to conceal part of the interior. It was apparently owned by a bigshot, but either the owner wasn't there at the moment or it was part of a small chain, as there wasn't a line to get in or anything. The actual interior was cozy and rich in the culture of sumo wrestling, decorated with all sorts of memorabilia of the sport. There was even a sumo ring front and center which guests were seated around. Alongside tatami mats and tables built into the flooring, the restaurant seemed to fit Esaka perfectly.

And their specialty? Hot pot, which interested Pit a great deal.

The doorwoman was polite enough to let the angel wait outside for the rest of his party after he spoke some directions into the link, assuring him that they would find the space for such a large expected number and would get seating started once a few more showed up. Large parties meant large tips after all, she thought privately.

After the chat with Heismay, dropping off the bio-sample he'd gotten earlier, helping complete camp preparations, and eating dinner, there wasn't much else for Ace to do other than retire for the night. Most of the other Seekers had done the same, since the weather was still bad and what daylight they'd had through the cloud cover was long gone. So the hunter claimed one of the tents in the circle around the campfire, did his nightly work maintaining his equipment (which included finally getting to the damage his ship rigging had taken the day before), and flopped down on top of a sleeping bag.

Unlike the abandoned house they'd used last night, there was little besides the dwindling fire to take the edge off the cold. The cave might have protected them from the wind, but it wasn't insulated. So, sleeping in the thick coat and ice boots it was - the cold would be non-existent, and getting to sleep wouldn't be a problem!

Ace laid on his back with his hands laced behind his head. Though he thought he still wouldn't have any issues getting to sleep, it didn't come quite as quickly as he'd expected. Though the rest of the group weren't far, resting in their own tents or inside of the stagecoach, he felt weirdly... isolated. Maybe because the stay in the cabin had felt more close quarters, and the day in the village had been spent working closely together with the others. Now it was cold and quiet. Above was the dark fabric of the tent, outside the dull echo of roaring wind beyond the cave's mouth. It made for a more somber atmosphere than Ace felt; his spirits had been high all day after all. But still it seemed to bring reflections on the last few days and thoughts of the ones ahead. They'd reach the peak tomorrow, right? Or get close enough to set their lure. Would the Guardian take the bait immediately, and when he reached them, how did the hunter plan to help fight?

The Cadet shifted, picking up the pendant on the chain around his neck and peering at the shifting wyvern skull motif inside. At the very least he was going to make sure that he wasn't a liability or a weak link.

He was also determined to go to sleep in a good mood rather than get bogged down in too many worry-breeding thoughts. Ace turned over, cushioned his head on a bent elbow, and shut his eyes. Eventually he drifted off, sleeping like a log until morning. Unfortunately, the wake up call was much worse than the day before.

The Cadet's eyes snapped open when the tremors really got bad. Though initially confused, he knew that whatever was happening couldn't be anything good. As he scrambled out of the tent a fissure cracked the ground beneath him in two, and a moment later the entire cave floor gave way. Ace fell with a shout of surprise, falling through the air along with everyone else - and the entire campsite. Items, equipment, even minions, pet monsters and the whole coach hurtled down to the bottom of the icy cavern they'd suddenly found themselves in. Ace had tumbled over a few times, the hood of his coat pulled over his head making it even more difficult to try and orient himself for long enough to try and fire his slinger's grappling hook to catch the wall and stop his descent. The ground came up too swiftly, and in the end the Cadet plummeted into the snowbank at the bottom. His vision was filled with white, and around him was the sound of items and debris hitting the ground as well. The tumultuous crash of the coach slamming through the cushion of snow was unmistakable, even though he couldn't see it.

Ace popped up out of the snow mounds, spitting a mouthful out. "Jumping Jaggis...!" he breathed, climbing out of the snow properly. The cavern they were in was actually pretty incredible looking, but it took a back seat to regrouping after that experience. What could have caused the cave to collapse like that? All the combined weight of the group and their vehicle? Ace craned his neck up to see where they'd fallen from and could not tell how far down they were.

"I'm al-stalacright over here!" he called back when he heard Heismay ask after everyone's status. He wasn't in a good position to be able to see all of the others, but he looked around at them too while wading through the snow he began to pick up what he could find of his belongings. One silver lining was that they didn't fall too far away from his landing spot.

It was long before Heismay shouted out to them again, warning them of the impending battle. As the danger got closer Ace was able to hear the sound of them rushing towards them too, and when the horde appeared he hadn't had the time yet to properly gather everything - but Ace was still able to fight, even limited to the weaponry not packed into his backpack.

Glyphids swarmed into the hollow and around everyone, and the first that leapt at Ace found itself with a series of deep slashes ripped through its front. The matched Frilled Claws, the dual blades he'd been waiting to get the chance to use, were held tight in the hunter's hands. The bug frost bug fell and was quickly replaced by two more, and Ace spun to slash along the length of their bodies as well. While it was true that fighting hordes this huge was not exactly the Cadet's forte, but he wasn't fighting it alone - around the area the other Seekers had all burst into action as well. Besides, a speedy weapon like the dual blades would be just fine for handling this. Rather than get bogged down and cornered with a slow one or trying to block with a shield, the superior maneuverability would help him avoid the neopterans sharp arms and teeth.

Ace kicked up snow as he whirled through his section of the battlefield, not impeded in the slightest. He was proficient with the weapons, but it had been honestly been a long time since he'd wielded dual blades seriously. They were his master's preferred hunting weapons and were among the first he'd mastered himself, but after switching out so often the Cadet tended to favor others. So it took a few close calls -and some failed evades- to really get back into the groove. The glyphids' claws had torn shallow cuts into him while he learned their weak points, but after that each one that met the wrong side of his blades was put down swiftly with a strong stab or few slices to their heads.

There were so many neopterans in general, but there were also a lot of different types all rushing in to defend what had to be part of their nesting grounds. The grunts that were most prevalent, along with much faster and slimmer versions that tended to swarm close together, were thankfully not as durable as they looked. Their more armored cousins were a different story, with enough bulk around their forelimbs that they could deflect blows and protect their fleshy faces.

After glancing off of one of the bulkier glyphid's chitinous armor plating, Ace backed off to prepare for the follow up attack he was sure was coming. The guard grunt lurched forward but stumbled, collapsing into the snow when the dual blades' built in sedative took effect. It breathed, obviously still alive, and considering the weapons' source it wasn't difficult to put together what had happened.

"Out like an Espinas, huh?" A few more of the smaller glyphids charged in, losing their prey momentarily as Ace dove into the cover of the snow and rolled into a crouch with the blades readied at his sides, springing forward to dispatch them with a swift series of slashes. He looked back to the slumbering one, still asleep even after its brethren had scuttled around it or jumped over it. Its head was exposed, so the hunter wasted no further time in killing that one too, practically a freebie now.

Ace continued to fight through the swarm, gradually making his way closer to his companions. He hadn't seen the boss yet and wasn't sure if she'd been pinned down under the glyphids or the snow itself, but it'd be hard to look for her in the midst of all of this. He kept an eye out but instead he prioritized the enemies that he could see, making his way over whenever he could to help rid them of the more troublesome enemies with the combination of aggressively quick blade work and applied sleep status effect.

They'd started out towards the darker area of the forest, so when at some point the path had curved and the bamboo canopy opened up to let more of the afternoon sunlight through, Therion's brow furrowed in vague confusion. The shadows were looking real bright, and the overgrown stone paths had grown into rocky spires. A pleasant breeze whistled through the space between cliffs, carrying the echo of the area's inhabitants. The trail that the group were following eventually led up to a more wide open area on one of the mountains, giving them an excellent view of this side of the Forbidden Kingdom. And Therion sighed, keeping a healthy distance from the edge.

Guess it's not a big surprise that a foggy forest would lead us astray, he thought to himself as he gazed out over the landscape. Even if it wasn't some mystical grove with magic designed to keep people out or visitors lost, they could have just honestly taken a wrong turn somewhere where the mist was thickest. It was an unfamiliar area after all. And though Therion had been the one to put forth getting more familiar with it in the first place, he was slow to actually get started on that. Yayama, Rika, and Junior scattered to go investigate the various distractions they could all spot from their vantage point, but the thief remained behind, squinting at the horizon visible through gaps in the mountains.

He was definitely not as on edge as he normally would be (though it helped he wasn't literally on the edge). Still, there was a persistent thrum of unease the welled up higher when glanced from the heights down to the ground below. To combat that Therion simply sat down on the grass, crossing his legs and wrapping his tail around himself.

If it had been earlier in the day, a time when the sun was up higher and the shadows of the surrounding peaks would have cast shadows over each other, he thought that this spot would be pretty nice for a nap. It was open but secluded, and even he had to admit that the view was great. Probably even better for people whose hair didn't stand on end when they got too high up. He'd seen a lot of places that were completely different from his home world, alien landscapes and metropolises that would never exist there, but this forest was probably the first totally natural area that appeared so foreign from his native Orsterra. Since it was natural, and didn't look like the plants and animals had come from some completely different dimension... maybe it was possible that somewhere across the sea, a place like this existed in his world too?

He found his thoughts drifting to the old scholar and what he'd mentioned of the continent Solistia, though its true nature was something that Therion still wasn't sure of. Somewhere far enough away that he hadn't even heard of it before then, yet unmistakably on the same planet. Maybe bamboo grew there.

"...well, I've got better things to do than appreciate nature," the thief said to himself after a little while, getting back to his feet and rolling his neck.

He turned and trotted back down the trail they'd taken, ears standing tall on his head and turning in whichever direction he could hear the latest echoes from. He did plan to get a better sense of the area just as he'd said, but he still didn't feel all that adventurous. There were also almost no buildings, or any sort of establishments, that he could see that he could exercise his particular skill set in. The only one visible was further down, so if he followed the path rather than blaze a new one, he'd end up traveling in a wide swoop before hitting it last.

He ended up passing the crane's plateau, hearing it and Rika and Junior well before he saw them. Getting eyes on what was going on did not actually help him understand what they were all trying to do though, because it looked like they were bullying some sentient globs of jelly but it smelled like it might be a food experiment. Therion didn't have any interest in involving himself but he did spent a few minutes watching them, amused, concealed by brush and boulders. He was gone by the time whatever they were up to was really starting to get hectic.

As he continued the winding path, the sight of a path of soft-looking blue vegetation among the canyon's green, yellow, and gray naturally drew Therion's attention. He turned his head to study it from a distance, since it was above where he was now. The climb also looked rough, but that did sort of add to the mystique of the area. He traced his eyes over the spire it sat on, trying to find a good way up to the plateau. It seemed that there was no easy way up, Therion was ready to just move on - but then again, maybe he could just get close enough to get a better look from a cliff nearby. There were much easier ones to get to around it, especially in the form of a large cat. The four legged form made walking the mountain paths feel so much more stable, Therion didn't know why he hadn't thought of it earlier. He padded up to a neighboring plateau, but paused when he heard faint voices filtering out of the blue glade. It was still mostly out of sight, but sound traveled well enough here that he could tell there were at least two people speaking in there. If he wasn't mistaken, one voice belonged to Yayama, though he couldn't tell what she was discussing. Riddles or something?

He left her to it, turning to go back the way he came. If nothing else it hadn't been a wasted diversion since it had led to the travel revelation. The Orsterran kept to his beast form even once he was back on track walking the flat slope towards the bottom of the canyon.

Eavesdropping on the other Seekers had not actually been Therion's intention, so when he finally made it to the solitary cabin and spotted the Koopa siblings again, he was a little surprised. And a little exasperated. They must have beaten him there when he'd taken that detour. Well, whatever - you really couldn't ask for a better distraction than those two.

While they kept the person that Therion assumed was the hut's resident occupied he slunk around the opposite side of it. He kept one ear trained on the conversation outside while the other was angled at the cabin, and after determining the coast was clear he slipped inside, retaking his human form. He wasn't looking for anything specific, nor was he out to ransack the whole place. He was just more curious than anything and figured that if there was something worth taking, then he'd take it. His steps were quiet as he peeked into different rooms, ending up in the kitchenette with petty cash and a small basket of fruit in front of him. It had been the portion that the owner planned to eat rather than smashing on the ground outside, most likely. Now it was Therion's, who definitely felt he was more entitled to it than a food-waster.

The thief picked up a ripe orange fruit, running his thumb over the skin. A breeze pushed the scent of the nearby orchard inside, and mixed with the vaguely familiar interior of the cabin Therion suddenly felt his mouth go dry. He grabbed the basket and escaped, his exit swift, silent, and sooner than expected. He was a little spooked but he was still a professional, and he made sure he went unseen as he passed from the cabin into the bamboo and then back onto the path to the bottom of the mountains. Once he'd put some distance between himself and the scene he slowed, shuddered once, and turned his face towards the sinking sun. So phantom memories are just gonna happen anywhere in this region. Great.

Blessedly he was saved from dwelling on it by the chime of the linkpearl connection activating. Big Band's brassy voice came through first, followed by Pit's boyish timbre. A call to gather together again before the day ended.

"A few of us are outside the city," Therion said over the connection, though he didn't elaborate on how far they were or how long it would be before they returned. It was possible they might missnthe meet, but it was about time they started back towards Esaka either way.

He'd made it to the foot of the canyon and was leaning on one of the rock walls next to where that vehicle had been parked, awaiting the other three. Eventually they'd make their way there whether they'd heard the call or not, and once they did he finished the persimmon he'd picked from the basket and approached, fully intending on hitching a ride on the Kuebiko back.

While the majority of the Seekers opted to rest for the night, Ramattra had taken duty to watch the entrance and potential points of threat so that Heismay could rest from his scouting jobs. The Omnic, however, was clearly distracted by the small Darumaka that he had attracted back to their base. While he wasn’t keen on the idea of keeping and caring for a “pet”, there certainly was some benefit to developing an army to command, even if small.

He stared at the small creature, perplexed with his broken sensors. The beast was certainly ornery, but to Ramattra, this didn’t strike him immediately as a bad omen. Perhaps he could mold the Pokémon into shape for the theoretical New Null Sector. The Darumaka returned the gaze, its small beady eyes more confused than curious. “Daradara?” The creature mumbled before stumbling away to return with another granola bar it had clearly taken from Tenna’s possession. It began lazily munching on it as it plopped back down beside Ramattra.

“Ha! I didn’t expect you to have such a colorful personality!” The Omnic silently praised as the white-haired yeti continued munching on its treat, seeming to have taken a liking to him. Ramattra had traveled his world for years alone as a nomad, and companionship was not a commodity he saw himself needing regularly… Was he really considering recruiting this small, brazen creature? He hadn’t even gotten a chance to examine the monster’s combat prowess.

With a sigh, Ramattra came to a decision. Making use of Edward’s Armory, he scoured through for any capturing devices similar to the one Roxas used for his Pokémon, or similar to the one he received at the Christmas feast. He grabbed one of the more ornate and rustically designed capture spheres and raised it toward the creature, silently offering a chance to travel with the Omnic. The creature appeared to almost immediately recognize the device, a remnant of its old world still alive deep in its subconscious. “Be my companion. I will make you strong, and you will learn to make your foes cower from your raw power.”

The line was empowering, and the excitement of being chosen for friendship despite its reckless attitude was overwhelming for the small white beast, causing him to jump up and down rapidly like a bouncy ball. “Daru! Daruuuu!” The creature cheered as Ramattra shushed it silently to allow his teammates their rest.

“But what would I call you? Nothing childish for certain.” Darumaka pretended to understand what Ramattra was saying, nodding along aloofly. “Kashmir.” The Omnic declared as he stood, steadying his aim of the archaic ball onto the willing Pokémon. “Like the Snowcaps near my home.” He hurled the ball at the beast, the latch of the ball clicking open to secure his new ally.



The ground began to rumble just moments after the two’s new companionship, causing the Omnic to attempt to gain his footing, only to realize it was futile because of what Ramattra knew was next to come.

The seekers awoke to a roar of noise and a sudden sensation of falling as the ground shattered beneath them.

It was, suffice to say, a rude awakening.

Edward manages to right his fall with a panicked flapping of angelic wings, righting the fall into a slow glide, giving him a birds eye view of everyone and everything plopping down into the snow below.

At the center of the collapse the stagecoach had landed on its side, the heavy thing surviving the fall more because it was built like a brick house than because of the snow.



To the South, towards where the entrance had been, all of the various guard minions, including his golems, had landed. They were now hopelessly out of position in the impending battlefield, forming only a small defensive wedge that would be easily circumvented. Their closeness to the new cave’s walls also meant they were under attack first. A wave of lesser glyphids grunts scrambled towards them, mixed in with armored Glyphid Praetorians. Above them floated a pair of blimp like Icy Blowhog who’s icy breath could freeze dozens of foes solid in a single gust, making them a significant threat to the tightly packed troop formations they were drifting towards

To the north, back near where the rear of the cave had been, the sheildrix had been bedded down for the night in presumed safety. Now they too were exposed to danger and out of position. They’d be out of there quickly once they untangled their limbs and got to their hooves, but having them run amuck would be its own problem. They’d also have to outrun the bolder sized snowball shots of an Arctic Cannon Beetle, and a towering Frosty Bulborb stomping its way forwards with freezing to the touch armor on its backs and Glyphid grunts swarming around its feet.

Edward just got a warning out about both these situations before being swatted from the sky by a barrage of acid blasts coming from a Glyphid Menace that had unburied from the roof of the entry cave above them. The man crashed down into the snow and then, unarmed and unarmed as he was due to having been awoken in the night, scrambled to use the stagecoach in order to use it as cover from the ranged foe.

Even as he lay sprawled on the floor, Ramattra caught glimpse of the Dreadnaught scurrying across the icy cave floor for cover. The globs were harmless to the Stagecoach's rugged exterior, though Edward was now trapped behind the Stagecoach for cover and would be limited in mobility. The Omnic raised his hand, preparing a nearby barrier for Edward to hide behind should he decide to reposition himself into a more tactical mindset and collect his bearings.

Ramattra clambered onto his three legs. He needed to cull these numbers. Not one of the common enemies was particularly strong by any means, but it wouldn’t take long for the rest of the Seekers to get overrun. Ramattra seized his Scimitar and activated Nemesis form, the blade now able to crush with each swing because of its modified weight. He made himself into the middle of the show, dispensing a Vortex below him to slow any Glyphid approach. He began crossing his legs over one another, beginning to slowly build speed to begin rapidly spinning in a circle with his large blade to mow down any common bugs he could draw aggravation from. “HAHAHA! Do your worst, pests!”

Ganondorf grumbled awake at the sudden noise and plummeted hard. But it wasn’t for long, as he similarly had a method of slowing his fall thanks to his ghostly Phantom Familiar acting as a glider for him. Of course, he too was eventually pelted by acid blasts that sent him crashing the rest of the way to the bottom. Winded, but still more or less in shape, the warlord stumbled to his feet. Without much preamble he used his dark summoning magic to quickly conjure his armor back onto himself so as not to be completely exposed.

”Who dares?!” He demanded, even crankier than usual, from being so abruptly awakened. The only answer he got was the sight of all manner of bugs and icy foes closing in on the Seekers. His own moblins were currently haphazardly in formation with Edward’s golems but were also heavily injured from the fall. So he made the decision to immediately replace them with a fresh squad, archers specifically, wagering their fire arrows would be particularly effective here.

Then he whirled around and unleashed an angry breath of fire, producing a straight line of searing hot flames that he swept over a collection of Bulborbs stomping toward him. Sure enough, the Charcoal he’d received in the Christmas Village did its job, enhancing the power of his flames, melting the creature’s icy armor with ease. After the exhale, Ganondorf brandished his great swords for battle.

For Roxas, the fall was quite a bit more of a close call. Without any means of gliding or slowing his fall, the Nobody had to think fast. And his first instinct was to immediately grab for Turbo and Titan’s Poke Balls so he could recall them mid-fall, then frantically did the same for Scamp and Larxene. Shocker was the only one Roxas didn’t recall, as the Rotom was perfectly able to simply levitate down on its own.

After that Roxas had to try to take the fall on his own terms. He quickly conjured a sloppy trail of virtual cubes that led down toward the bottom that he launched himself between. The only thing he could count on was flow motion allowing him to maneuver through the aerial enemy attacks. And he did so, albeit barely. One acid blast in particular managed to graze the Nobody before he crashed hard onto the ground.

But rather than be wounded by the fall, Roxas was able to orient the momentum he’d building during his descent from Flow Motion to do a controlled explosive landing in which he expelled a burst of light from the Flow Motion around himself that knocked back a handful of foes and even did some opening damage to them to boot. And just like Ganondorf, he also noticed how many of the creatures looked like they were ice elemental.

”Shocker - use that new Fire Blast move of yours!” He called. And the Heat Rotom obeyed, zipping and zig-zagging down from above to unleash a searing blast of fire that took the shape of a fire kanji as it screamed through the air toward an Arctic Cannon Beetle. As for Roxas himself, he quickly went to work casting Tailwind and Aeroga on as many allies as he could see, making sure not to spend all of his MP in the process just in case an emergency Curaga was needed later. In particular he tossed a Firaga to Ganondorf, remembering that the warlord’s own flames would be buffed further from being struck by fire.

The swarm continued, but this was no coordinated attack that would retreat if they took too much heat. Rather, this was a survival, and the only guarantee of success was being the ones alive when they ceased. Ramattra was observant, though. By the end of his attack, he began to notice a trend where a specific subspecies of insect had to engage in the fight by emerging from various silica-lined holes. Could these be destroyed?

“Does anyone have explosives?! I think I may be able to help whittle them down more!” He pointed at the bug holes, hoping his allies could put together that insectoid monsters were being spawned from these. He continued to clobber various Praetorian-class bugs with his sword, trying to make more space for his teammates amidst the chaos.

”Working on it!” Edward called back, the man presently aglo in a blaze of fire as Hestia’s Soot Sprint blessing protected him from the acid shots. He’d made good use of Ramattra’s cover to get a proper lay of the land, including finding where his weapon holsters had fallen when the ground fell away.

By his side sprinted Loona, the Lunarpup having linked up with him in his cover, and who had then empowered herself with a pystical attack boosting howl before they started this run. In front of them a few leading glyphid grunts were in the middle of crawling past his things, and who would need dealing with.

As they got close, Edward dropped the sprint, ending his illumination of the area and plunging into shadow. Through this shadow, Loona shadewalked, vanishing into the dark and began striking at the glyphid grunts, sowing confusion among them.

From behind them, a gout of flame briefly lit up the fight again as Taffy the Traffikrab used inflame to strike the grunts, and then finally the Chillanth and SomnaDrix crashed into them, claws, antlers and fangs tearing into the smaller bugs.

As the mon assailed the bugs, Edward duked between them, leaping through portals and over heads till he could get to his gear. Among them he ignored the melee weapons, pistols, palspheres and more, and instead grabbed the Mag launcher.

Then, with a flap of his wings, he was up above the glyphid grunts, steadying his aim in the air as best he could, before casting his grenade spell into the chamber of the weapon. With a pull of the trigger, the launcher launches the explosive towards one of the silica-lined holes that he had a moment before cast designate target on. The spell guided the shot home, detonating within and colapsing the tunnel, slowing the flood of bugs.

Between them, the seekers had thoroughly disrupted the north side advance. Bulborbs had been burned and their armor broken, grunts cleaved and sundered. Unfortunately, the snowbolder rolled after the sheildrix had been allowed to freely roll on, picking up a few of the unfortunate mon in the process, and only stopping when it collided with the stagecoach. The collision left the impossible caricatures stunned, and caused a trio of large icicles to fall from the ceiling.

The shooter of this snowball meanwhile had mostly tanked the fiery shot with its heavy armor, but now exposed its vulnerable rear, the armor opening up as it inhaled a torrent of air into its cannon like snout, clearly prepping another shot.

To the south, the Icy Blowhog also inhaled deeply, before unleashing a freezing torrent from its balloon like body, which washed over the golems, freezing them solid, leaving them unable to fight and at high risk of being torn apart.

Ramattra was quick to shift his defense upon seeing Edward’s defenses nullified by the odd icy insects. They were down troops, and there was no telling how long it would be before the golems and other allies thawed out fully from the frigid assault. Once his Nemesis form ended, he fled the swarm around him, utilizing his spider-like legs to rapidly step over and around bugs. A shield was deployed between the golems and the frost breath, giving the Omnic a chance to rally closer and deliver a devastating stab of his blade into the freakish creature’s chest. The Golems would need to thaw, but they weren’t out of commission just yet.

Above, the sky began to fill with aerial insects, while the Glyphid Menace continued to freely harry the fighters down below, only mildly scorched from the divine smiting it had received in response to shooting a soot sprinting Edward.

Many Terminids continued to assault from nearby holes- two of which Ramattra now had eyes on. “Edward! The last two! I’ll handle the sky.” The Omnic leveled his staff to the sky, aiming at any flying ice-bugs that joined the Menace’s assault on Edward, their ice-goo-filled organs splattering as nanites hailed from Ramattra’s staff onto their soft flesh. At the very least, focusing on these enemies would allow the Dreadnaught another chance to reduce their spawning areas.

In a quick patch of decision-making, Ramattra clicked open his Poké Ball, releasing Kashmir. “Daru?” The small creature chirped, ready to assist his new master.

“Kashmir, do whatever you must to draw away some fire. Return safely, and I will reward you.” Immediately, the rambunscus creature rubbed its ball-like belly hungrily. A snack did sound nice. The Darumaka used Taunt to anger enemies and draw their attention, tucking his arms into his belly as he rolled like a ball along the icy floor away from the enemies he just enraged.

”Almost got it!” Edward called back. The man had the grenade launcher tucked under one arm, while the other wielded his nanite-infused Katana. With it, the man seemed to be dueling a single glyphid grunt, the man delivering careful cuts to his foe.

Around him, grunts battered against plastic barricades while Taffy clawed at those attempting to get past one side with electrified claws, and Loona struck those coming round the other from the shadows. Between them, the Chillanth and SomnaDrix reared up behind these walls, the former launching quills and sprays of sleeping gas, while the latter slammed its freezing horns down onto foes.

While they kept him safe, Edward bled his own foe for as long as he was able. For each cut, one of the mana fuel cells at his side lit back up as Hestia’s other blessing recharged his magic.

When the grunt fell to its wounds, the man leapt onto the back of his Chillanth and used it as a firing platform. Up there, he marked and fired once more, closing a second cave. The second shot hit a bug emerging from the cave, preemptively detonating it, but also clearing the way for the third cave to be sealed by his final fuel cell.

”Sealed!”

That cut the flow of new bugs, but between the snow-bolder firing cannon bettle in the north, the Icy Blowhog drifting over the shattered remains of Edward’s Golems to the south, the menace on the roof and the swarm of lesser bugs coming from all directions (including above), the situation was far from stabilized.

The noodles they had gotten from the crane had been yummy, but there had only been so many of them, and despite now having the recipe, neither of the kids actually knew how to cook to make use of it. So, even less unsurprisingly than last time, the second scent of fruit had them heading up to the thatched cabin atop the largest plateau. They took a brief look at the thatched cabin, before heading around into the flowering orchard to see why it smelled so much of staff smashed fruit.

In front of the lone house, they found a makeshift training area, fashioned from simple wooden materials. An elevated balance beam stood among weighted fulcrums, positioned so that they could be struck from the beam’s vicinity to catapult loads of fruit into the air. Unfortunately, the rudimentary construction meant that the impromptu training device wasn’t very efficient, which made it especially hard to use for the spiky-haired young man attempting to hone his staff skills. Though he looked a little like Sora, if the keyblade wielder happened to be from Korea, he certainly lacked Sora’s proficiency. Most of the time the launched watermelons, apples, and oranges sailed right past his clumsy swings to tumble away from the beam’s opposite side. And after a round of near misses, continuing requires a healthy dose of downtime to reset all the catapults before the youth could go again. Nevertheless Zinnervale persevered with stubborn determination, not even noticing Junior and Rika as they approached.

After watching for a few moments Jr put a finger to his lips and shhh’ed towards his sister. She responded with a confused squint and a questioning spread of hands, given that clearly the boy wasn’t paying them any attention anyway. Jr didn’t clarify, and instead just did what he wanted to do, which was to quietly approach and then, right when an orange was flying right at the Sora-alike’s face, loudly say ”Hi!”

“Wagh!” Zinnervale flinched, lashing out much too early. He overswung and went off-balance, the orange flying over his spiky hair as he bent over and backward, arms flailing, in an effort to try and save himself, before finally losing control and falling off the beam. His shoulder struck one of the levers as he plummeted to the earth and launched a grapefruit skyward. “Aaaaagh…” the young man winced, opening his eyes only to find the scaly face of a young koopa grinning at him. “Whoa, hey! What was that for?”

”What was what for? I just thought you looked like you could use some help is all” Jr replied in his best ‘gosh did I do that?’ kind of tone, which was, frankly, pretty bad.

Rika meanwhile watched the Grapefruit fly up sky high and declared ”I got it” as she warped her spear into her gauntlet, lined it up, and stabbed the fruit out of the air. She’d meant to skewer it through entirely (and then pluck it off to eat it), but unfortunately her aim was just a bit off and so she struck the side instead of the core. This cleaved a dash through it, and knocked it off course such that it spiraled through the air spraying juice before it splatted down on Jr’s head, much to her brother’s dismay.

All he got in return for this mishap was a pretty flatly toned ”Oops” followed by the excuse that ”It’s harder than it looks”

Indeed, though she’d initially thought of the whole operation as a waste of good food, she had a little more respect for Zinnervale after having fumbled an easier version of his training. Enough that she offered him an (oversized) hand up.

“The point isn’t to destroy the fruit!” Zinnervale informed the two as he got up, his intended indignity mitigated by the amusing spectacle of Junior’s instant karma. Hard to keep a straight, annoyed face with something like that happened. Trying to salvage his dignity, the young man dusted himself off and planted his staff. “It’s for me to get better! I need to learn speed, power, precision, and most of all, self-control. The ability to defeat bad guys without…well, pulping them.”

He glanced down at the fallen fruits that he had managed to strike, most of them split open or splattered in a pile of their own juices. Evidently he even considered his hits to be failures. With a sigh, he shook his head. “I’m a long way from where I need to be.”

The girl who was absolutely covered in murderous weapons and holding a spinal column styled halberd tilted her head in confusion at this. Then she looked over the ruined fruit and then, sort of, agreeing by saying ”I mean I guess it would be better to not waste all that food”

Jr gave her a bemused look in response to this takeaway. He then looked thoughtful for a moment before saying ”Y’know you could probably get better at that too” because, for one, it would make any future friend hearting less dicy and for two it’d make stuff like their nonlethal fight with the ninja kids a lot cleaner if his sister was better at using her arsenal safely.

As such, he offered to help out for real, mostly for their own benefit ”Want me to rig up those catapults better? Look like they take forever to setup.”

The offer made Zinnervale’s brows rise. “You can do that? Hey, if you’re willing, I’m all for it! Lemme know if you need a hand.” He stood off to the side, resting his staff on one shoulder as he wiped off his brow. “You guys the heroic type? You know, wander around, help people in need, all that stuff? That’s what my master Shandi and I do. Well, once I learn a little discipline, that is.” Sighing, he gave a sheepish smile.

”Hmm? No, we’re badguys” Rika replied incredibly nonchalantly as she scanned the fruit for some that was busted enough to not be worth flinging again, but not so busted that it wasn’t good eating any more. Her reward for this was finding an orange that had been bashed in such a way that it split open into unharmed slices, which she picked up and began to much on while her brother worked.

”I mean we’re kinda doing the hero thing right now though. Ya know. Fighting the bigger bad guy stuff” Jr added as he sat down to tinker, using his ferromancy to form new parts when he needed them, adding several clockwork mechanisms to the catapults that could reset themselves a few times once wound up.

“Bad guys!?” Zinnervale looked alarmed for a moment, although his worry turned to bemusement as Junior continued to toil away helping him -a self-professed hero- with no apparent compunctions. He rubbed the back of his head, his lips pressed together. “Well. I guess Master Shandi always says things aren't black and white.” His eyes widened as he made a sudden realization. “Wait, if you're up against a bigger bad who can make even villains do the right thing, Shandi and I ought to be fighting it too! Or at least in the know.” He beckoned to Junior and Rika. “Who is it? Where? C'mon, spill the beans!”

Jr gave an ”Uhhhh” after accidentally stepping on that information hurdle that was Galeem, but his sister just went on and said ”Well there’s a lot of them. There’s the four kings over there in Esaka who we’re trying to deal with, and also G-corp who tried to blow up our friends. Then the Consuls who are like, wider scale jerks, and finally Galeem who you don’t even get to know about” which worked just as well.

Thankful for the save, Jr agreed that ”Yeah. This world's full of the kinda bad guys who you’d never play tennis or go-kart with, its lame” as he got back to work with his tinkering.

Scratching his head, Zinnervale gave a heavy exhalation. “Sheesh. Guess the odds are against us. Wouldn’t have it any other way, though!” He turned away, walked a few paces, and began to perform a drill ith his staff in an effort to spend his restless energy. “I’ve heard of the Four Kings,” he mentioned. “They sound like real scumbags, according to Master Shandi. Apparently you have to win their tournaments to face them. Sounds complicated. And dangerous. Hmph!” He executed a staff-spinning jump slam that kicked up some dust. “That isn’t the half of it, though. Get this. Shandi said that even if three are defeated, if one king’s still standing, the others will just show up again the next day. My master’s good, and I’m…well, okay, but we can’t be in two places at once.”

”Yup, heard that too, which is why we’ve got people going after em in every tournament” Jr replied as he clicked the last fresh parts into place on the improved catapults, which started whirring away as clockwork mechanisms pulled back, ready to fire. Now all they needed was ammo. Jr had added magazines to store several fruits, which would roll onto the catapult once it wound back, allowing the fruit flingers to fire again and again.

”Now let's fill these up!”

As they prepped for launch, Rika got curious about the man Zinnervale seemed to look up to so much, and asked ”Where is this Master Shandi guy anyway? Shouldn’t he be helping you train?”

Impressed by and a little wary of Junior’s contraption, Zinnervale began to load fruit projectiles. When Rika questioned him, he seemed taken aback. “Oh, no, he’s got much more important things to do. I mean, we’ve trained together plenty, but someone like that can’t spend all his time on me, you know? I wouldn’t dare ask that…”

The kids traded looks at that, but let it lie, for now.

Once the machines were fully prepped, the young man climbed back onto his balance beam. He gripped his staff in both hands, took a deep breath, and nodded his head. “Ready!”

”Then! Here! They! Come!” Jr replied, each exclamation coinciding with a flick of a switch that set the clockwork fruit-a-pults into action, flicking forth their delicious projectiles in a staggered volley before winding back, reloading and repeating the process, over and over.

Now that there were people watching, which put Zinnervale’s dignity on the line, the young man did his darndest. He struck at the flying fruits with gusto, managing to strike two or three in succession, although no streak lasted too long. The mechanical devices worked well enough to create a dependable launch rhythm and flight pattern, which made Zinnervale’s job easier. The main challenge, especially with an audience, became keeping a level enough head not to reduce the bigger fruits to tiny bits or leave him wobbling off balance if he whiffed a harder target.

Nevertheless, the trainee seemed to get the hang of it pretty fast. His smile grew as dented but intact fruits piled up, until after about a minute all of Junior’s devices were clicking empty. Zinnervale, breathing heavily as he rocked atop the balance beam, wiped his brow and then shouldered his staff with a grin. “Whew! That it? Had to be a sixty…no, seventy percent hit rate! At least!” Of course, with more hits, the orchard’s supply of spare fruit was about half used up.

”Sixty seven point five percent!” Jr replied, sounding pretty smug about the accuracy despite the fact that he was just quoting a statistic supplied by Seek, the NetNavi Ai installed on his Rotom Phone (with which he’d recorded the whole performance).

He was a little disappointed there had been no more slapstick.

Rika meanwhile gave Zinnervale a clanging clap with her gauntlets and then a thumbs up as she said ”That sounds pretty good. Definitely looked pretty good, compared to earlier”

”Think you can do any better?” Jr chimed in, still wanting to have her learn to be less lethal when need be

”Hmmm? Oh. Guess I could give it a go, sure” she replied after a bit of thought, before asking Zinnervale ”If that’s ok with you?”

The boy nodded. “Knock yourself out!”

Of course, doing another run of fruit firing meant reloading, and rewinding the catapults. While they were doing so, as much to fill the air as to actually find out, the ship girl asked the Zinnervale if he had ”Any advice?”

“Uh…” Although he was helping to prepare the mechanisms, more actively helping someone he was secretly hoping he’d do better than didn’t make much sense to Zinnervale. In the end, though, his answer was honest. “Well, it doesn’t look like you use a staff, so probably not.” If this girl wanted some of Master Shandi’s wisdom, she ought to put in the time as his disciple herself!

In short order the three had Junior’s machines ready for action once more. Zinnervale helpfully gave the rather short Rika a boost to the balance beam before stepping back. “Okay, good to go. Let’s see whatcha got!”

Atop it, Rika donned her helm, the three pronged tiara of Titania Prime glinting gold in the late afternoon sun and then summoned her halberd into a gauntleted hand. It might have had a stabby and a shooty end, but the long shaft was somewhat staff-like. Certainly so when she flipped it round so the spinal column shaped axe blade was facing away from the impending fruit-valanch.

”Ready?” Jr called up, and, upon getting a nod set about triggering all the fruit flingers and beginning the onslaught.

Things, it had to be said, did not start well, as the shipgirl violently pulped the first orange with a mighty thwack, and then had not recovered by the time an apple bounced off of her helmet, but after that she started to get the hang of things. An apple caught in the hook that the reverse of her axe blade caused first, then a melon batted away with the wide flat of the gun barrels. An orange slapped by the flat of a hullblade. Then, after that, she found herself entering a flowstate, less attacking the incoming fruity shots, and more parrying them at a pace that accelerated faster and faster till she was moving so swiftly she could have intercepted bullets.

The control issue was still, well, an issue, and the boy was definitely ahead on non-lethal take downs, but in terms of actual hits? The girl’s score was at 99%

Once the trial concluded, Zinnervale couldn’t make any bones about the fact that he was impressed. “Wow. Maybe I should be asking you for advice!” Of course, even if Rika did a good job, he didn’t want to learn from anyone but his master. Maybe a small part of him was jealous, thanks mostly to Rika looking much younger than he did, but Shandi had taught his disciple well enough to recognize and respect skill when he saw it. Plus, Zinnervale found a little inspiration in Rika’s moves. Her reliance on parries turned the whole exercise from one of offense to one of active defense, and maybe that was a better way to go about it. After all, if he missed a projectile in a real fight the consequences could be much worse than a stained shirt and hurt pride.

“Well, thanks for your help!” Zinnervale laid down his staff and began to gather the remains of all the fruit into a couple of baskets he’d set aside beforehand. “I’m off to feed the animals with all the fruit we softened up. See ya!”

”See ya” Rika echoed after they’d helped him out with that a little, while Jr just gave the trainee a simple ”Bye!”

As Zinnervale left to go do some chores, his (and his visitors’) task finished, a short, two-note victorious fanfare played out of nowhere. Golden letters appeared in the air, not too unlike those manifested by the Heavenly Principles, which read ‘QUEST COMPLETE’. A hundred and eighty silver coins unceremoniously fell from the sky and landed at the koopa kids’ feet, and the mysterious text faded away.

There was a moment of stunned silence when this occurred, complete with Rika taking her helmet off to make sure she wasn't seeing things. This silence was broken when Jr threw up his arms in disbelief and yelled ”Wait. What. That is a thing?! Since when was that a thing!? Why did this count and nothing else!?” up at the place where the text had been.

Rika, who had a little silver glint in her eye, had a much more practical response to all this, which was to delight in the unexpected rain by crouching down and trying to pick/scoop up all the coins (which was easier said than done, given how fiddly the little things where).

Eventually Jr gave up yelling and bent down to help her out.

Even working together (and with a little extra help from Mimi) it took them a while to get all the coins gathered up, and it was only then that Rika realized that ”Oh. We used all the fruit…”

”We’ll just go buy summin then with all this cash back in the city” Jr replied, right on queue for dinner plans to start being discussed over the link pearls.

Jr chimed in with ”Yeah. Got the G-corp bots n then had an explore. We’ll meet back up at the karts n then drive on in.” after Therion commented about them being outside the city, expanding on it a bit to report their mission as complete.

Rika meanwhile was just looking forward to whatever eatery Pit had found. The captain hadn’t steered them wrong when it came to food yet, that was for sure.

Yayama watched the sun droop further toward the horizon. She'd poked around a bit after meeting Meidra, but it seemed most places she found had already been covered by the rest of their little adventuring squad. "Time to head back, I guess," she said aloud, to no one in particular. The lalafell trudged through the underbrush to where her mount from earlier had been left.

Thus ensued several minutes of pulling at something much larger than herself, and also quite heavy even for her. Eventually, though, she was able to free it of its photosynthetic prison. The frame was rather banged up, and if she had to guess, there was almost certainly something that had been knocked out of alignment from the roll and then crash. When she moved to start it, however, it reluctantly groaned to life once more. "Nice. I like this thing." Yayama gave the Chopper a pat as if it were a trusty chocobo, before wheeling it back the direction she'd come from originally.

It was getting late by the time she reached the city outskirts. She sent her vehicle back up, with a note apologizing to whoever ended up having to fix it after she made a quick tactical decision. The rest of the journey was made on foot, heading toward the establishment Pit found for the group.

Although Esaka was a big city, it seemed to lend itself to fortuitous encounters. When Pit volunteered over the Gold Team Seekers’ collective linkshell call to hunt down a suitable spot for the group’s evening rendezvous, Big Band had decided to walk his old friend Ileum back down through the Pools Tier to Lab 8. He’d half-jokingly explained his accompaniment away as wanting to make sure Ileum made it home safely, and also to ensure that he’d be able to find his way back to his new lodging without a guide later in the evening, but neither agent objected to simply spending a little more time in one another’s presence.

That meant that by the time Yayama returned to Esaka from the north, Band had already discovered that Pit’s chosen destination -Chanko House Edomon- was not in fact in the city’s Low Tier and that he needed to make his way back up to the Middle Tier at a minimum. Being plumb tuckered out from a day full of fighting and stomping up and down Esaka, though, Band was none too fast, and on her way to the restaurant the Gold Team’s newest recruit happened to catch up to him a few minutes away from the Low Tier’s northern lift.

She raised an arm to wave the distinctive investigator down. “Hey. Band, right?” She picked up her pace, closing the distance surprisingly quickly for her diminutive stature. “Today was productive on our end.” Yayama glanced over him. “You doing alright, though? Seems like you got a bit roughed up.”

Given how central Band’s head was in the huge iron lung that comprised most of his mechanical body, he needed to crane his neck a little to see the source of the familiar voice that greeted him. When he recognized Yayama he cracked a warm smile. “Hey there, li’l miss. You got that right.” Hopefully she didn’t take that the wrong way–almost every miss was little compared to Big Band. “Heh,” he chuckled. “You shoulda seen the other guy.” His jocular manner gave way to serious commentary rather quickly, though. “Actually, I was worse off earlier. Got my respirator sliced up by some beefy tiger. That thing ain’t got no business bein’ in bracket.”

After a weary shake of his head, the detective continued, chatting on as the two Seekers approached the lift and began to wait for it to descend. “Woulda been up the creek without a paddle if I didn’t get lucky and run into a couple old pals, not to mention a mad scientist. They fixed me up, even kitted me out with a couple upgrades. Used ‘em to knock the block off this dirty boxer they put me up against.” By now his nose wasn’t bleeding, but it still looked a little askew thanks to Balrog breaking it, which gave his wry smile extra character. “Asshole still got his licks in, though.” If nothing else, the experience made for a good story. The lift came to a rest in front of him, allowing the Seekers and a random passer-by to board.

“Good to hear. I’d have offered to help with that process if you weren’t alright.” She climbed into the lift without interrupting her conversation. “Not that what you’ve got going on is exactly my specialty, but I might’ve been able to hammer out some dents.” Yayama side-eyed the other passenger in the lift, figuring it probably wasn’t good to be too open with what she’d been up to all day with some unknown passerby right there. Or maybe her paranoia was just getting to her. You don’t even start, she thought preemptively. “Have you ever met a spirit by the name of Meidra, by the way? Curious sort, seems to be a big fan of moral dilemmas.”

Wondering if Yayama would be better at field repairs than Junior, whose main solution had been to bold extra bits of iron onto him, Band shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.” His first thought was that Yayama was talking about someone in Esaka, but then he remembered what a number of his comrades had been up to: undermining G-Corp. The conundrum-happy entity she alluded to didn’t exactly gel with that mission, but if Band could count on anything, it was his allies getting into unexpected misadventures. “How’d things go on your end? You don’t seem banged up too bad.”

“A few people took some nasty hits. Anji in particular was in bad shape. I fixed him up, but told him to get to a real healer afterward.” She rapped a gauntleted hand against the oversized gorget crowning her cuirass. “This kept me from getting more than the occasional bruise. The kids did a lot of work before the other guys even got close, too.”

Her jaw somewhat abruptly cracked into a yawn. “Gods, I’ve been busy. And there’s more matches tomorrow. Hope yours are a little less brutal than today’s.” Her mouth curled in a rueful grin. “Probably gonna be less brutal than mine, at least.”

Band breathed in deep, then exhaled heavily. Then he found himself unable to suppress a yawn himself, infected by Yayama’s contagion. “...I sure hope so. But I bet it ain’t gettin’ any easier from here,” he groused. Like his companion he glanced at the citizen who occupied the lift with them, naturally suspicious, but the rotund, gray-bearded old dwarf seemed thoroughly uninterested in his fellow passengers, and more concerned with holding onto the railing with both hands to not stumble over in his drunken stupor.

Right now, Band felt plenty old and clumsy himself. “Guh…just thinkin’ about goin’ through today all over again, or worse, makes my head swim.” He squeezed his eyes closed, then shook his head. “Sure, I can throw a good punch, but at the end of the day I’m a gumshoe, not a prizefighter. Competin’ like this just ain’t my game. Dunno how much further I can go.” This sentiment didn’t stem from a lack of motivation or confidence; it wasn’t something a pep talk could fix, and Band wasn’t necessarily looking for one. It just felt prudent to let the others know so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he couldn’t clinch the win, and Yayama happened to be the first comrade he met.

“I understand the feeling.” She nodded. “Mind, I’m not exactly new to combat, and I’ve fought in tournaments before, but to be frank, I prefer my fights to be as unfair as possible. Fighting one-on-one isn’t my specialty in the slightest. I’ll see how far I can get, but to be completely honest, I wasn’t ready for the Heavenly Principles equalizing people. I win by taking more hits than anyone else can, but it seems like whatever entity runs this place isn’t a big fan of victory by attrition.”

Band nodded as his compatriot explained her own difficulties, turning toward the lift exit as the elevator began to slow down. “Guess I can’t complain too much, heh. Whatever the Principles is doin’, it ain’t done much to me.” From what little he’d observed so far, his best guess was that the Heavenly Principles endeavored to not just make fights fair, but to make things from elsewhere work like they did here. For people whose varied skillsets weren’t crafted with dueling in mind, that meant a lot of adjustments. “Sounds annoyin’,” he observed, reasoning that the Principles’ interference would require a lot of tedious self-rediscovery to make sure one’s abilities didn’t fail them in the heat of battle. As he and Yayama set off across one of the many wooden walkways of the Pools tier, the planks creaked beneath Band’s weight.

The lalafell eyed the flooring with concern, but figured that Esaka probably had heavier folks than Band that wandered through here without breaking anything. “It is,” she confirmed. “I can’t heal myself during these fights, and I swear people are hitting me from further away than they ought to be able to. Not to mention that most of my barriers don’t work, and a few of my techniques are just useless in a one-on-one anyways.” She shook her head. “But, I’m managing so far. At least on the fighting side of things. Still coming to terms with. . . you know.” Yayama waved a hand in a gesture that seemed to indicate everything around them. “Everything.”

That one word carried a lot of weight given the layers of the Seekers’ predicament, and being one for a lot longer hadn’t made the burden any lighter for Band. He gave a tired, empathetic nod. “Uh huh. It ain’t easy. Dunno if I’ll ever come to terms with it myself.” After rounding a corner, the two continued on a sturdy stone walkway. The sunset to the west was in full swing, close to finishing actually, and the water of the Pools glittered in its dying light. “Maybe we don’t have to. Maybe the impossibility...the unacceptability of what happened, how things are, can keep us movin’ forward. Settin’ one foot in front of the other, even if it’s hard.” Most detectives were analytical and dispassionate if not outright cynical, but Band was an exception. He cracked a self-aware smile. “Sorry. I romanticize stuff sometimes. When you got a soul full o’ jazz, it tends to find a way out.”

Yayama just gave a soft, sad smile back, slowing slightly as memories of happier times came to her at the sight of the sunset. “That’s what it comes down to in the end, isn’t it, though?” She glanced up at Band. “Just one more step. That’s all you have to do. One more step forward, and then again, and once more. For those we have lost, and for those we may yet save.” The dark knight chuckled, mostly to herself, as her eyes slid back toward the horizon. “Don’t worry, I’ve known the type before.” It wasn’t clear if she meant an actual acquaintance, or was simply referring to her own ability to wax poetic on occasion.

“You’re right, is what I’m really trying to say. That anguish, that all-consuming grief. . . you can’t throw it away. But you can’t drown in it, either. Walking that blade’s edge is basically what I’ve done for a living for the better part of a decade, even more than most.” She didn’t look away from the shadow at the edge of the vision that only she could see, feeling oddly serene at the moment.

Going to ramble on about the dark arts, are we? That won’t actually get you anywhere, unless you plan on teaching the extra-large tin can here about them.

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” she said aloud, before pausing to look at Big Band directly. “You know, I could probably teach you the arts of the dark knights, if you wanted. It wouldn’t be easy for you, but something tells me it won’t be quite as fraught as my path.”

When Yayama stopped initially, Band had been about to say that it sounded like he didn’t need to worry about the lalafell staying the course. What she described sounded a little more soul-rending than what he’d been through, after all. Grief wasn’t something he’d grappled with, not really. He’d known agony, and at one point resigned himself to a grim fate, but he’d never questioned or struggled with him own nature. Whether a lone cop trying to shine bright amidst a sea of corruption, or a cyborg opposing the Skullgirls for humanity’s future, he’d always known exactly who he was.

The offer to train him as a Dark Knight took him by surprise. For one, knights were a little old-fashioned even for him, and that was saying something. Then again, mankind hadn’t advanced much in any way that mattered between the eras of partisans and tommy guns. Even if arms and armor weren’t Band’s style, the idea of a dark knight was cool enough to appeal to some long-forgotten juvenile part of his mind. Yayama did warn him that this path wouldn’t be easy. Nothing worth doing ever was, of course. But did she really think he had what it took?

“Hmm…”

On one hand, that old adage about old dogs and new tricks held some serious water. He was probably too stuck in his ways to learn a whole new discipline or fighting style, whatever dark knighthood entailed. On the other hand, being a dark knight -an edgy subversion of the classic knight in shining armor- also suggested a certain personality. By Yayama’s own admission her path had been ‘fraught’, a single word that contained almost as much subtext as ‘everything’ did earlier. At her past, he could not begin to guess. He did not generally contend with stuff like grief or doubt, but he’d been through his own sort of hell. The pain that he’d experienced was long past…but the scars it left were indelible.

Even now, righteous anger burned within him, rage at a system and society where leaders and lawmen alike abused others for selfish gain. If he hadn’t been beholden to Lab 8, he might have turned the strength they gave him toward vigilanteism. The temptation was there, even now, and his mission as a Seeker of Light muddied the waters even further. But…

When the word of law falls, pick it up and hold it higher.

Band had always clung to his principles, the lines he wasn’t willing to cross. They were all he truly had. He believed that if one fought fire with fire, the whole world would burn. That there was no such thing as a good man who did terrible things. Maybe he was thinking a little too symbolically, but if becoming a dark knight meant letting his inner darkness out, maybe that wasn’t the right choice.

Without realizing, he’d wound up on the lift to the Middle Tier with Yayama, and the elevator was already nearing the top. He’d been lost in thought for a while, and only just now did Band find his way out. He tore his gaze away from the last embers of the setting sun on the horizon, looked down at Yayama, and smiled. “I appreciate the offer. There’s a time, years ago, that I might’ve accepted. When I was broken, full to the brim o’ nothin’ but bitterness and pain. I’m still a little broken, I know, and I doubt that’s ever gonna change. But you got your path, and I got mine. Don’t mean one of us is wrong and the other right. We just are who we are. That’s all.”

The duo’s ride came to a stop for the second time. In front of them lay the Middle Tier, where Pit’s latest update confirmed Chanko House Edomon to be. Before setting off, Band raised an eyebrow at Yayama. “That said, if you got any tips for my fightin’ in the comin’ days, I’m all ears. Brass don’t corrode, and yet somehow I’m all rusty.”

Yayama just shrugged, the gesture causing no small amount of clattering from her pauldrons. “No offense taken. I’ve got plenty of battle wisdom that doesn’t involve channeling the powers of hate and love together, and it’s a hell of a lot less of a commitment. ‘Course, a lot of it is about fighting people bigger than you, or bigger than the average house, but most of it is pretty transferable. I know you’ve got your first principles down, but I’m gonna run through them anyways. . .”

The lalafell continued to chatter about various fighting techniques and foibles to avoid over the rest of the walk to the meetup, interspersed with the occasional anecdote demonstrating its usefulness. They largely revolved around ways to not instantly die when struck by a powerful attack, but she continually reassured him that they were more than useful in smaller-scale fights, right up until they reached their destination. “After you,” she said, pulling open the door.

With a sputtering engine noise, the hulking Abigail pulled a massive arm back and then swung it forward in a massive left cross, aimed downward at the pipsqueaks before him. For the giant it might have been just a medium punch, but for the Bogard twins it looked like an unstoppable force of nature, a massive fist big enough to use either of their heads as a speed bag. That made evasion their top priority, but as they split to either side with a brisk dodge, the very unthreatened Abigail followed up on his whiffed punch with a big step to close the distance toward one of them, his target chosen at random. After he planted his foot in front of Marg, he lashed out with the other with a huge kick. Nadia winced reflexively, not at all sure that the teenager could take it.

Instead of striking the girl’s head, though, it collided with the hidden amber barrier around her, bringing the grid of interlocking triangles back into view. As Marg flinched, a half-dozen fragments broke off her shield. Taking the form of golden diamonds, they bounced away like rolled dice and scattered around the battlefield, where they floated just above the ground in a tantalizing collectable manner. When Marg tallied them up, she seemed more disappointed than afraid. “One short!”

From atop the scrapped SWAT van Nadia stared at the little gems, mesmerized by what looked like precious dropped change, and she wasn’t the only one they distracted. Still not really concerned about his foes, Abigail glanced down at the glittery goodies too, only for Bart to dart forward and snatch three of them up. He nimbly ducked backward when the behemoth grasped at him, then clasped the crystals in his fist, crushing them to gain their amber power. As golden cracks appeared in his arm, the young man dropped to one knee to strike the ground. A familiar exclamation punctuated the impact.

“Power Wave!”

The golden cracks flowed down his arm and across the junkyard’s red dirt like an earthquake’s faultline. It traveled toward the confused Abigail quickly, and when it reached beneath him the amber energy erupted, cannoning three paydirt shardshots into Abigail from below. He let out an odd screech like a braking vehicle’s tires, as much in surprise as in pain. Then the earth practically shook as Abigail jumped into the air. Nadia watched, alarmed, as he thrust out both legs in a colossal dropkick. Gritting his teeth, Bart sidestepped just enough to turn the devastating impact into a glancing blow that sent four shards tumbling across the ground.

While her brother fled from Abigail’s wrath, Marg made her move and swooped in to gather as many shrapnel gems as she could. In so doing she unwittingly placed her back toward Abigail, who rounded on her with a flailing backhand. The blow shattered her shield and almost bowled Marg over, but her shield’s destruction dropped two extra gems dropped in front of her, and scooping them up brought her total to eight. As Abigail’s enormous shadow fell over her, the girl looked over her shoulder and snapped her fingers. “All in!”

A dozen feet overhead, a horizontal window into another dimension opened up, and from it tumbled a cascade of manhole-sized golden poker chips. They slammed down on Abigail’s head and brawny shoulders in an opulent deluge, battering him until the opening slammed shut a few seconds later. Nadia couldn’t help but laugh, delighted, as the giant sputtered in anger. “Wow, your power is literally money? That’s rich!”

The breakout of a fight was the kind of noise that wasn’t easily missed. But Captain Falcon was prepared at first to write it off as a particularly spirited sparring match between two members of the Fatal Fury Dojo. That is until he heard the familiar exclamation of ‘Power Wave’. That stopped the bounty hunter in his tracks and made him look back toward the dojo that he was in the process of putting behind him.

”Isn’t that the name of one of Terry’s-”

Cap’s question was cut off by his surprise at what he saw. A big SWAT vehicle near a big, nasty-looking bruiser of some kind. And it looked like he was trying to take down a pair of kids! But even that wasn’t the most shocking thing to catch the Captain’s eye. Another familiar-looking someone was standing on top of the van. He wouldn’t have recognized her at first until she blurted out one of her trademark puns.

”Ms Fortune?” Falcon blurted out himself, but didn’t exactly give himself any time to fully process the scene before breaking into a heated sprint.

At the sound of her name, Nadia immediately turned to look in the direction of the callout’s source, confirming that Falcon’s guess was right on the money. “Car-ap!” She froze like a deer in headlights, searching frantically for an escape route.

But Falcon wasn’t making a run at Nadia. Instead the F-Zero pilot made a big leap clear over the SWAT vehicle and past where Nadia was watching the fight. Sure, the Seekers had been trying to find the feral, but Falcon wasn’t about to stand by while a big bruiser tried to attack the kids.

”FALCON KICK!”

Cap’s voice rang sharply from his mid-air position as his body quickly corrected itself into a flaming fiery kick threatening to slam into Abigail from above like a meteor dropping out of the sky.

By the time Falcon rushed into action, Abigail had launched a new offensive against the twins. He stooped to slap the ground, entering a sort of trackstarter stance, then thundered forward with Nitro Charge. “Vrrrrroom, vrrrrroom!”

Bart held his ground in front of the giant to cover his sister as she retreated to replenish her shield with Cornerstone Deluxe, firing off the few golden gems he’d collected in the form of a close-range shotgun blast. “Crack Shoot!” It was nothing like the move he’d taken the name from, although it did cleave closer to the meaning of the words involved. Unfortunately for Bart, Abigail’s Nitro Charge soaked the shardshots without flinching.

If not for Falcon’s sudden appearance, his Dynamite Punch might have crashed through Bart’s shield and sent him flying. Instead the Captain’s fiery boot struck Abigail’s upper back. “Ow!” The blow almost doubled him over, but Falcon bounced off the next moment. It would take more than that to fell this musclebound titan. He turned around as Falcon landed a short distance away, a snarl on his face as Galeem’s influence took over. “Hey!”

“What’re you doing?” Bart barked, waving the Captain away.

A new shimmering amber shield took shape around Marg as she tapped into her Cornerstone shard’s power. “This is our fight!” she yelled at Falcon.

”Your fight?” Falcon repeated, and now noticed the fact that neither of the kids were gleaming like Abigail was. Unfortunately for all of them, he lacked any context and there wasn’t any time for that to be shared right now. ”Did you two start this fight?”

None of it made sense. On one hand, Abigail looked like the clear aggressor. But on the other hand, the kids were making it crystal clear that they didn’t want any help, which made it seem as though they started the fight or at the very least wanted this fight to happen. Either way, Galeem’s influence made resolving this peacefully impossible.

”90 seconds.” Cap finally said, ”I’ll give you that long to win this fight yourselves before I step in again. Same time limit as the tournament matches. If you really insist that you handle it then that shou-!”

In the middle of Falcon’s speech, the giant hooligan interrupted him with EX Abigail Punch. Surrounded in orange energy, he hammered the captain with ten absurdly fast uppercuts, launched like the pistons of an engine. “VUVUVUVUVUVUVUV VEE EIGHT!” Abigail finished the brutal special move with a monumental upward clap to send Falcon flying.

Now mostly hidden behind an idle excavator, Nadia winced at the sight of her fellow Seeker sailing away. This was no time for conversation, and now that they had a third party involved, things were practically guaranteed to get out of hand. The twins needed to take charge of the situation. They charged together, yelling at their target in sync. “Hey, ugly! Don’t forget about us!”

“Rrrgh?” With a grunt Abigail pivoted around, forcing the kids to stop short to avoid his flailing hammer-fist. Unfortunately for them, with no ambergold they’d need their foe to keep chipping their shields to create golden gems for the pair to collect and use. If either lost their shield and took an unmitigated hit from this meathead, it might be curtains. Theirs was a tricky and dangerous gameplan, one very foreign to the formulas that governed Esaka’s fights. Nevertheless, the blonde twins seemed determined to prove themselves, so the dance of death continued. Though she put on a brave face, Nadia couldn’t help but worry and wonder if, like Captain Falcon, she ought to intercede. Regardless of what the kids wanted, the lives of Lost Numbers were not replaceable.

Before she could come to a decision, things went wrong. In trying to launch a coordinated attack, Bart and Marg wound up point-blank against Abigail. Having stacked amber shields with Cornerstone Deluxe, they reasoned that they could take whatever the giant dished out, but any grappler worth his salt had an answer for opponents overconfident in their defense. He reached out and snatched them, his massive mitts passing right through the shields, and grabbed them. Unceremoniously he hurled them straight upward, several stories into the air, and as they fell screaming Abigail revved up his arm for an immense open-handed slap. The heavy bash instantly shattered Bart’s shield and sent him careening into Marg, which broke her barrier two. The twins tumbled away into the red dust, coming to rest in a heap against a pile of junk.

“Ugh…” Bart groaned, instinctively reaching for the shining stone inlaid in his tie clasp. “No way we gotta up the ante in our first fight, right?”

Marg mirrored his gesture as she picked herself up. In front of them Abigail stomped closer, sputtering in anticipation like an idle engine. “Whatever it takes. We don’t fold that easily…”

Meanwhile Falcon was pushing himself back to his feet from the bit of wreckage he had landed in. Despite taking the brutal special move unmitigated, the Captain had nary a scratch on him and wasn’t even so much as winded. There were no Heavenly Principles active at this time and therefore his invincibility from Mint Condition had prevented any actual damage from occurring. Of course, that effect was now worn off.

”Now that was just plain rude.” He muttered as he dusted himself off and looked in time to see the twins’ shields be completely broken by Abigail. He did say 90 seconds, but frankly Abigail had successfully gotten him feeling rather nettled. Granted, it was entirely because of Galeem’s influence and his own decision to spend a moment too long talking, but still. That, and seeing the twins get their shields broken so quickly made it clear they may have gotten in over their heads a bit.

So with a quick sprint, Falcon practically launched himself back into the fight. Only this time he wasn’t going to allow himself to let up, ”Raptor Boost!” He called sharply as he tried to surprise Abigail from behind with a flame-wrapped uppercut of his own that would launch the hulking bruiser upward if it fully connected. But then Falcon tried to jump up after his opening and somersault forward into a downward double heel kick intended to send Abigail slamming back onto the ground. It was none other than Captain Falcon’s patented ”Heel of Shame!”

This time the bounty hunter didn’t bother with any chatter. Instead he dropped into stance and readied himself for whatever retaliation Abigail tried to unleash next.

Now fully focused on the Captain, Abigail knelt to slap the ground, then push forward Nitro Charge. He closed in on his target, his armored command run more dangerous than its somewhat comical appearance might suggest, but well before he reached Falcon he tucked forward in order to perform a massive front-flip. Abigail essentially flopped forward onto his back, his momentum and great weight bringing his legs down in an ungainly but destructive variation on Falcon’s own heel drop.

From afar the twins just watched for a moment, furious at the man’s interference but in need of a moment to breathe and decide what they’d do next.

Luckily for the bounty hunter, Falcon didn’t have to think too hard on how to respond. Clearly Abigail was monstrously strong and tough, but that sort of build pretty much always came at the cost of speed. And that was something that the Captain had in spades that he could take advantage of. As soon as Abigail was off the ground, Falcon tumbled straight forward. The idea was to slip underneath Abigail’s momentum while the bruiser was in the air performing his front flip and then to end up behind where he landed.

So after his forward dive roll, Captain Falcon instantly whirled around and began pelting Abigail with a flurry of blindingly fast forward kicks, ”Gen’ei Kyaku!” At this point it became clear that this fight would almost certainly end up being a pattern of Falcon nimbly dodging Abigail’s more sluggish form and essentially chipping away with attacks that were lightning fast but not super strong. Falcon would have to build up his Power Gauge some more if he wanted to use his hardest hitting techniques. Either that or risk winding up for a Falcon Punch which was probably ill-advised at this stage.

After the last kick of his Gen’ei Kyaku, Falcon tried to follow up with a close range blast of fiery chi from his palms, ”Ryuugeki Ken!” If he could stall a bit longer he'd have a Power Gauge stock he could use for something bigger, either that or the twins might have a way to capitalize on Abigail currently being focused on him. Whichever happened to come first.

The fireball scattered against Abigail’s block, the sparks and embers billowing aside to reveal his scowling mug. He bent and slapped the ground as if to use Nitro Charge point-blank, only to roll backward in an attempt to bait out an attack from Falcon. “Reverse!” he yelled. Then he unleashed a Nitro Charge for real, this one EX-supercharged and aglow with latent power. Even his footsteps were strong enough to cause damage and hitstun as the juggernaut chased Falcon down. “Gugugug gugugug gugugug!”

At the same time, the Bogard twins had hatched a plan. Even if they couldn’t dissuade the Captain’s interference, they could still scheme to steal the win by landing a decisive final blow, and they didn’t need their forebears’ full power to do it. Instead, the two made the most of Abigail being distracted to bash their amber shields against one another. Each impact dropped a couple shattered shards of golden earth power, and it didn’t take long for both to nab seven, their collective lucky number.

Falcon lunged forward half a step, his arm winding up for a Falcon Punch for just a split second before he pivoted into a backflip that he then turned into a run. He’d seen Abigail perform a Nitro Charge before, right before his initial intervention. So it wasn’t impossible to guess what the bruiser’s bent knee stance likely entailed. He was also fortunate that he was a much faster runner than Abigail, or avoiding the Charge would be markedly more difficult to do.

At that moment Bart and Marg stole the show, raising a mirrored hand in tandem to snap their fingers. “Shot loaded right!” they chorused. Overhead, a trapdoor to the poker chip dimension pulled open, and down came a deluge of giant chips. Falcon could probably hustle out of the way, but for Abigail there was no escape from the concussive downpour. Fourteen times the falling chips bludgeoned him, and no matter how thick the giant’s skull was, that was just too much punishment to take on top of the damage he’d received already. With a guttural groan, like a diesel engine all out of fuel, Abigail slumped to the ground.

“We did it!” The twins high-fived, still elated by their win despite Falcon’s interference. Of course, anyone with more experience in Esaka could predict that Abigail would recover in a few moments, alight with anger and ready for round two.

The last thing Falcon expected was a literal downpour of poker chips from the sky. He actually had to do a full Raptor Boost to dive ahead as far as he could to avoid getting caught in it. And behind him it sounded like Abigail wasn’t nearly so fortunate. But as the twins celebrated, the Captain turned his helmeted head to look in the direction of where Abigail was practically buried in poker chips. He wasn’t quite so celebratory yet.

”We need to get out of here!” He said with an urgent tone. Bruisers like Abigail were always known for their stubborn tenacity. And Falcon could hazard a guess that the hulking man wasn’t going to stay down for long. And if they stuck around for round two, they’d be dealing with an even meaner and angrier Abigail than they had been already. There was also the matter of Bart seemingly knowing how to use one of Terry’s signature moves. He wanted to talk to them about that as soon as they had a minute to actually breathe.

”Come with me and I’ll tell you what I know about Terry.” Cap added, hoping that would be convincing enough as he took a wild guess that they might be looking for Terry the same as he was. He also made a point to look to where he remembered seeing Nadia standing, hoping the feral hadn’t run off during the chaos. Unfortunately, there was no sign of the feral anywhere.

“Ms Fortune? Fortuuuuuune?” The twins’ own impulse to find their self-proclaimed tour guide was tempered by the urgency in Falcon’s voice and the name he somehow knew to drop for them. Terry was, after all, just the person the two wanted to find. With neither a reappearance nor a response from Nadia, and Abigail beginning to come to his senses, the two made a split second-decision.

“You know Terry?” Bart questioned, eliciting a nod.

“Okay, we’re in,” Marg decided. She didn’t think Ms Fortune had just abandoned the siblings, since she seemed to disappear the moment Falcon arrived. Whether he was an enemy she wanted to avoid or a friend she could entrust the kids with, hopefully she’d show up again soon. The twins turned to dash after Falcon as he hastily led them away.