Lugubrious

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Forbidden Kingdom - Yellow Wind Ridge / Esaka’s Pools Tier

Setting: Clear Friday Afternoon
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (292/150) Level 11 Big Band (227/110)
Bowser Jr, Rika & Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Primrose, Therion & Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2474 / 1659

Once the linkpearl conversation with the others about interlinks and R tapered off, Nadia returned her focus to her original goal: reaching the top of a pagoda in order to gain a vantage point over the borderland region. The gnarly peahat plants she’d awakened from their dormancy with a healthy sprinkling of pond water offered what looked like a perfect alternative to climbing the dusty old tower herself, although using them presented its own set of challenges.

For one, this ascent requires a lot of precise mechanical motion on her part. Every time, she needed to pressurize her arm by pumping blood into it, take careful aim, then slacken her muscle fibers as she released the blood in a controlled burst to launch her forearm. Once her claws sank into the root bundle on a peahat’s underside, she then needed to tighten the elastic muscle fibers that connected her disjointed forearm to her body into bungee cords in order to snap to her target. Pressurize, aim, blast, grab, retract, rinse, and repeat for a good dozen floating peahats.

This only got harder when she realized, upon grappling to the first plant, that the lift generated by its whirling leaves could not handle the extra weight instilled in the feral by the downside of her Massachusetts fusion, 2,700 Pounds of Justice. It was easy to forget since she didn’t look it at all, but Nadia technically weighed over three hundred and fifty pounds, which was enough to make any peahat she hung from start to sink downward. That gave her only a brief window after each snap in which she could perform the next one. Combined with inconsistent wind and Nadia’s own impetuous tendencies, and the catgirl ended up either missing her mark or outright falling from the sky seven or eight times, which demanded quick and clever use of her other abilities like Charge to salvage.

Still, it made for an engaging challenge if nothing else, and the minutes positively flew by. Eventually, Nadia finally did reach the top of the pagoda, where she seated herself on the sloped gray shingles with a tired but satisfied sigh to enjoy a well-earned sunbath. It was warm up here, pleasantly peaceful, and the view was excellent. Although Yellow Wind Ridge didn’t look like much at first glance, she could see all sorts of nooks, crannies, and creatures that seemed interesting enough to warrant a visit if she had the time. In fact, some of her allies had used their time in the area to do just that, delving into hidden lairs or warming up with a fight against a local menace or two.

The Seekers were here on a mission, though, and a little over half an hour, their communication sigils lit up again. This time, rather than talk to the interception team herself, Sandalphon patched them through directly to Poppi. The artificial blade’s voice was a little hard to hear over the sound of rushing wind, but her news was important enough that Nadia, Pit, and the others hung on every word.

“Attention, Gold Team friends. This Poppi. Consul convoy just entered canyon airspace, where Sandalphon said you waiting. Poppi and Grimm ready to down target, but Poppi batteries too low to fight too. Once consul out of sky, rest is up to friends on ground.” She paused for a moment as she cranked up her thrusters and began to accelerate toward the flock of airborne reptiles from behind. “Beginning strike. Over and out!”

Suddenly energized, Nadia hopped to her feet and searched the skies. After a moment she pointed toward the northwest, hopping up and down. “Oh, oh, I see them! Headin’ this way!”

While most of her teammates couldn’t see over the borderland region’s rocky ridges, Nadia’s vantage point allowed her to make out a large shape that looked like a big bird with a backpack or something, surrounded by a bunch of smaller birds. As they flew closer, chaos suddenly erupted among the flock. Crimson fireballs began to shoot out from the house on the quetzal’s saddled back, aimed at the pteranodons flying in formation around the giant reptile. Attacked out of the blue by what seemed to be their own boss, the argonian wingmen panicked. Some of them broke off to reach a safe distance, while others turned their crossbows or destruction spells on the mobile home. Only Poppi, closing the distance toward the convoy from behind, could see the truth right now: that a number of newly-summoned Grimmkin had emerged from within the structure to open fire on the unwitting guardsmen, almost impossible to see when in shadow.

Once the wingmen returned fire, of course, the consul relaxedly enjoying his afternoon snack inside reacted with equal parts confusion and fury. “What!? What’s happening!?” R threw open the front door and ran out onto the patio in time to see a few ice spikes and lightning bolts strike his mobile home. “Cease fire, you buffoons! This instant!” At that moment, however, Poppi boosted into view with her saber wrench in one hand and her umbrella lance in the other. She plunged the lance into a rider’s back, then as he writhed, slashed at the pteranodon beneath him to send both spiralling downward, then jetted away to avoid the other argonians’ wrath.

A creaking board from behind him prompted R to look over his shoulder. In the darkness of the doorway behind him loomed a black bug with a white face and scarlet eyes. R’s slitted eyes narrowed behind his mask. “This is your doing?” A bejeweled scepter appeared in his hand, aglow with magic. “It’ll be the last mistake you ever make!”

Meanwhile the ground team awaited R's convoy to crest the ridge, tense and ready for action. All except their captain, who'd been standing by in the middle of the flat land of the ridge. Clear of the rising stones and surrounded by nothing but sandy earth, it was the perfect take off point; and as soon as he heard Poppi confirm that she and Grimm were moving, he leapt up high into the air himself.

"Everybody in position!" Pit called. If there were any preparations the Seekers hadn't taken, they had better get it done fast. "We're gonna ground him hard and fast!"

A brief prayer later and the angel's wings began to glow with soft blue light, the same that formed the goddess Palutena's sigil-like halo. From there Pit rocketed higher into the air, turning sharply in R's direction once the consul's crew came into sight.

You have no idea how glad I am you got the Power of Flight working long distance, Lady Palutena!

I have some idea. It wasn't easy, but now that we've got you airborne... let's really put it to the test!

You got it! Let's go!

Pit hurtled forward like a comet. The convoy's guard seemed just as unprepared for a frontal assault as they had been from the rear and center, so when the angel blitzed passed a pair of them with his bow-blade flashing there was little else they could do but for beasts and riders to prepare for a collision course with the ground.

He sped up to meet with the artificial blade as she moved to dispatch another guardsman, giving her a grin and brief salute. "Poppi! Good to see you back in action! Can you handle the small fries while I take down this big lizard?"

A stream of lightning from the argonian mage atop the pteranodon slammed into a bright blue bubble shield projected by the artificial blade’s built-in generator. From the ash cloud hurtled Poppi’s lance, but the guardsman brought up a shield in time to block it. The drill bit on the staff’s end barely penetrated, but when Poppi triggered the magnetic retrieval system, the lance yanked the screaming argonian out of his saddle as the weapon flew back toward her. She gave Pit a nod. “Poppi got this covered!”

That prompted the angel to circle back around toward the quetzal. It wasn’t armored, but thanks to its size it boasted a lot of power. If Pit got swatted by its huge wing or beak, such a blow would be hard to recover from. As he studied the target, his gaze inevitably shifted toward the commotion on the front porch of the house on the quetzal’s back. There, Grimm and two of his Grimmkin were facing off against R, but what started as an assassination attempt had become a frenzied fight for the insect’s survival.

Protecting himself with a shield of elemental water that totally shut down the troupe master’s burn skills, R cast streams of blazing fire and scalding acid from his scepter. One after another, the Grimmkin were swallowed by R’s flame. Grimm warped into the air above R, hung there for a split second, then launched himself downward, shrouded in his cloak like a drill. Its point tore into the watery barrier, strong enough to disperse it, only to plow into an ice spell that left him frozen long enough for R to summon a rock and drop it on him. Crumpled like a squashed bug, Grimm lay on the porch until R picked him up by the throat and began to squeeze. “Filthy insect,” R spat, his eyes narrowing. “Time for you to go splat!”

Pit did not hesitate. Crashing the quetzal was important, and he had a window of opportunity to do it now while R was distracted - but there was no way he was going to just ignore a fellow Seeker in peril, even one he barely knew. He shot towards R, blade swapped for shields in a brief spark that left golden particles in his wake. With all the force of a battering ram Pit barreled in, one of the Orbitars aimed to crush the arm R held Grimm with while the other sought to daze him with a blow to the head with a dual Shield Smite. "Let him go!"

R proved much lighter than the angel might have expected. The blow sent the diminutive consul flying like he’d been hit like a car, crashing back through the front door of his mobile home. He tumbled through the living room and straight out the back patio, where he stopped upon colliding with the rear flower box. “Gyaaaah!” He lay there for a moment, dazed and dangerously close to falling off the quetzal, as Grimm gasped for breath.

Pit alighted next to the troupe master, surprised that his attack had been so effective. That surprise swiftly turned to determination; with the element of surprise on the Seekers' side, maybe this fight would go way more smoothly than they'd thought. And with R already on the edge of his ride, maybe they wouldn't even need to bring the entire dinosaur down - if it flew on, happy to be rid of its master while they took just the man himself to earth, then all the better!

He did not pause to make check on or conversation with Grimm, especially as the angel did not have any sort of healing he could offer, but he did spare the bug a glance and a "good work, get somewhere safe!" before he sprinted towards R once more. He would make to snatch the Consul and drag him into open sky himself where he could then send the man into free fall.

Knocked off the quetzal, R plummeted downward, screaming bloody murder. After a second or two, though, he reached out with his Moebius power to control a pair of the remaining pteranodons. The reptiles immediately dived down after him, ignoring their riders as they picked up so much speed that the argonians passed out a few seconds later.

With the job far from over, Pit zipped down after them. He pressed a hand to the linkpearl, shouting over the wind to warn the others, "incoming! R's going down! And he's got some kind of elemental powers!"

The pteranodons managed to catch up with R and grabbed onto him to try and stop his fall, but by then he’d plummeted so far and so fast that they could only reduce the consul’s speed until all three slammed into the earth of Yellow Wind Ridge, to the east of the other Seekers’ current position.

Nevertheless, it did not take the heroes long to scramble to the spot where R struck the ground. As Nadia’s jog slowed to a walk near the crater, Pit touched down nearby, his Power of Flight exhausted for now. All eyes were on the dusty cloud kicked up by the impact as it slowly cleared, revealing R flat on his back between four ashen corpses, still very much alive. He stirred suddenly, wracked by coughing as he tried to pick himself up. His eyes glared up at the Seekers from within his helmet as he stood with the help of his scepter.

“You think…you’ve got me cornered, do you? Outnumbered? Outgunned?” R hissed. The purple core in his chest was glowing brightly. “Well…its the cornered beast that fights hardest! GRAAAAAARH!”

R let out a roar, and a high-speed pulse of energy emanated from his position. It rapidly expanded across the surrounding area, including all Seekers present. Almost everything in the vicinity began to change, from the nearby plants to the Seekers themselves. Metal weapons turned to wood and stone, clothes and armor became hide and fur, technology regressed to the stone age, and living things returned to their primeval origins. A weird sensation spread across Nadia as her outfit became little more than a fur-lined beast-hide poncho, and sabre teeth extended downward from her upper jaw as her hair and tail became wild and scraggly. “Whuh? What’th happenin’ to me!?” Pit’s angel wings became the scaly flaps of a pteranodon and his swords became a simple bow, amongst other changes.

R cackled deviously. “Behold my power, Revert! I’ve turned back the clock, reverting everything to its most primitive, prehistorical form! In other words, I’ve evened the playing field. And now…”

Purple power surged outward across R’s body from his core, completely dissolving his body. A moment later, a new body took shape from the Moebius energy–a much, much bigger one. After a few seconds, the energy coalesced into a demonic titan as tall as a tyrannosaurus rex. Holding a magic staff the size of a tree, Moebius R unleashed a deafening roar. “AHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Now, the ball’s in MY court!” He leered down at the reverted Seekers of Light. “Puny, would-be assassins! Prepare yourselves…for extinction!”

vs the Tyrant King, Rage of Dinosaurs, Moebius R

---

By the time Big Band retraced his steps from Ashwat Village to Esaka, the sun was out and the somber grey clouds that hung above the Forbidden Kingdom that morning were no more than scattered puffs of marshmallowy white against a blue sky. It felt a lot warmer in the sun’s rays, but not warm enough to require the cooling system within Band’s brass body as he trudged past the Aurumaton gatekeepers and into the Low Tier. His time in the Sandswept Sky, beat like a drum by the desert heat, had revealed just how insufficient and obsolete his onboard life support systems really were. On the whole, that mobile iron lung of his could use a LOT of tune-ups, but for now the Lokjaw upgrades from Lab 8 would have to do. Hopefully they would serve him better in his upcoming match than they had against Potemkin, since now that he’d fallen to Losers, one loss was all it’d take to eliminate the detective from the World Warrior tournament completely.

Thorough consultation of several of the city’s special bulletin boards allowed him to make his way back up to the Pools tier and to the designated arena where his next fight would take place. As a rule, the stages where Pools matches happened varied a lot in terms of shape, size, material, and quality, but this one actually impressed him with how meager it was. It appeared to be a simple cube, a good fifty feet in length and width, its top surface only a foot or so above the water, composed entirely of standard white pool or bathroom tiles with no other features. No spectators hung around the area, less due to the lack of accommodations than to the unknowns scheduled to compete. At the very least, two of the tier’s wooden walkways formed piers leading to opposite sides, so getting to the arena was easy. Since Band happened to be a little early, he plodded over, lowered himself down atop the tiles, and began to wait.

A few minutes later, his opponent appeared in unceremonious silence, no different in manner from any random spectator until he stepped onto the arena and revealed himself as Band’s opponent. As he rose, his ascent marked by an unflattering rusty creak from his joints, the detective lifted an eyebrow. In front of him loomed a masked man in a tan fedora and trench coat much like his own, who stood at an impressive 7’7”--in other words, exactly as tall as Band himself. This man of mystery looked much lighter than the bell-shaped cyborg, but still sturdy, not to mention menacing with his metal face and glowing eyes. Was this fighter even human? At least he fell five inches (and many steroids) short of Band’s last opponent, but the detective couldn’t help but wonder at the strangely consistent pattern of foes he’d been facing, at least since Balrog.

“Well, hello there,” Band greeted his opponent, his voice flat. “So you’re Q, huh?”

Q said nothing. Whatever he was, he was a man or machine of few words. Band didn’t mind getting straight to business, so a taciturn foe suited him just fine. “Strong but silent, I see,” he remarked, planting one foot behind him as he readied himself for combat. “Guess we’ll let our fists do the talkin’.”

ROUND ONE, the Heavenly Principles spelled out. FIGHT!

Both fighters anticipated a rush from the other, but they took different tacts. Q crouched down in a defensive stance, while Band hopped directly upward and extended his clarinet in downward stab in the hopes of counterhitting his opponent’s charge. After landing with a thud, Band sidled backward slightly, and Q stepped forward only to crouch down again. From the furthest reach possible, the detective unleashed Giant Step. The big drum pedal fell just short of hitting Q overhead, but the unblockable tremor caused by its impact with the ground took Q by surprise and knocked him down. Band took a big step forward as Q picked himself up and poked at his foe twice with the twin trombone slides of Glissando, but the man of mystery stand-blocked patiently.

Still testing his opponent, Band took another step forward to try and grab the other gumshoe with Heavy Toll, but Q seemed to anticipate the throw and jumped away, out of the reach of Band’s bell halves. Q landed within a few paces of the arena’s edge, so Band kept up the pressure. So far, it seemed like both fighters favored slower, longer-ranged moves over close-quarters rushdown, making for a methodical match-up. If Q was anything like Band, though, he had a surprise or two up his sleeve, so Band remained cautious. He whiffed his saxophone uppercut, Air Mail Special, and recovered just in time to guard as Q suddenly bulled forward with a charging slug aimed at his head. Having spaced his special move well, Q turned out to be safe, but rather than attempt a frame trap he simply crouched down again. That gave him all the time in the world to react as Band hopped forward to attempt a jump-in Jelly Roll, which lost to an upward punch that anti-aired him.

With the duel beginning to accelerate, Band jumped again the moment he touched down, undeterred. He met Q in the air, who’d taken his leave of the ground himself, and to his surprise the Baritone Blast released from his centermost side-cap missed as Q performed an ungainly somersault stomp that sent Band crashing down. Once he hit the ground, Band teched backward, regained his feet, and brought up his music stand to defend against another, slightly different slug that probably would’ve beaned him overhead if he’d been hunkered down. After that Band hopped again, and Q crouched, only for the cyborg to whip out his tremendous Cymbal Clash to deafen Q with a disjointed overhead unperturbed by any anti-air jab. Finally, Band got to use his Sound Stun to leave his foe’s head ringing and allow him to follow up. He landed, zoomed forward a few paces for a Bass Drop, then unleashed a brief but resounding series of auditory attacks that ended with a classic Take the A-Train into Super Sonic Jazz.

Sent flying backward toward center stage, Q rose with a sizable life deficit but no signs of either fatigue or distress. Instead he halted Band’s attempt to use Bagpipe Blues with a swipe that boasted deceptive range, even for him. This he chained into an EX dash punch that did respective damage for a single hit. Upon recovering, Band jumped forward to perform his armored dropkick, 5000lb Slam, only for Q to see through it and parry it by puffing out his chest. That gave the man of mystery free reign to counterattack with a heavy barrage of swipes, clumsy but powerful.

Letting out a disgruntled grunt, Band pulled backward. He needed to not divert too much of his focus toward analysis, but he could already tell that Q had a solid grasp of fundamentals, with a fighting style that wasn’t anything fancy but boasted both offense and defense to spare. As he watched, Q performed some sort of move that prompted Band to guard, but no attack came out that he could see, which left him puzzled. Was that some kind of taunt? Or, like his Bagpipe Blues, did it confer some sort of advantage? Well, Band had plenty more knowledge checks of his own.

“Gimme a hit!” He burst forward with a heavy Brass Knuckle that Q wisely blocked, held back for a moment, then did it again. This time, though, his Lokjaw was wide open, so rather than guard a strike Q got scooped up by the command grab that was Take the A Train. “Slow train rollin’!” Its piston hammered him twice, then spat him out, and Band followed up with an extended explosive spring punch from his other Lokjaw for good measure. The detonation sent Q sliding dangerously close to the stage’s edge again. Band charged a Lokjaw punch that he sent flying over to try and finish his foe, but Q sidestepped after rising so that the blast would go past him, and with a nod Band pulled his arm back.

This round was almost his–Band could feel it. Now far away, he went for another Giant Step that forced Q to jump or be knocked down. He leaped closer, remained steadfast as Band plowed forward with a Brass Knuckle cancelled via Emergency Break, then tried to close the distance with his long-range swipe. His gloved hand glanced off of Big Band’s high hat cymbal as the detective proved that he could parry too. “Uh huh.” The Noise Cancel made a low hit from Hot Socks a no-brainer, and the ensuing combo ended with Timpani Drive “You’re gonna get beat!” The percussive beatdown proved more than enough to finish the round in Band’s favor.

ROUND ONE: BIG BAND WINS!

Calming his breathing, Band stepped back to let Q rise, then cracked his head from side to side. Q seemed like a good fighter, but it seemed like Big Band could do a lot more, and he was feeling refreshingly good. Only time would tell if the man of mystery rose to the occasion.

Frozen Highlands - Moon Mountain

Setting: Lunar Friday Afternoon
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (109/100) Level 9 Heismay (10/90)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 866

Once the Man in the Moon showed his eerie, milk-white face, the hollow planetoid’s interior erupted into chaos. The Seekers scrambled to avoid an onslaught of burst-fire projectiles and black spike waves from every direction, forcing them to pay as much attention to their surroundings as they did to the boss itself. In this fight, speed was life.

Unlike most of her battles, Sandalphon had no safe distance to retreat to nor sniper’s nest she could hole up in to keep track of the team from afar. Since shooting the Man in the Moon in his giant eyes seemed no more effective than pinging his murky, possibly amorphous body, Sandalphon chose to prioritize her own wellbeing over sheer damage output, and to stand ready with her miracles available should her allies’ collective health fall too low. She did connect her ergo strings to Ramattra to lend him a hand with his own evasive abilities, but other than that and a couple opportune shots from her hexagun, the archangel found herself more than challenged by the task of evasion. As Roxas spread his Tailwind buff among more and more Seekers, though, its speed boost made it much easier to stay one step ahead of the chaos.

Even while obliged to stay on their toes, though, the Seekers were a force to be reckoned with. A fusillade of projectiles, from cannon shots and ignited arrows to divine power and spell bullets, slammed into the Man in the Moon in a non-stop barrage. In no time at all its oil-black body was burning thanks to the various fire and holy attacks headed its way. Although the lunar being did seem to possess a giant health pool, as one might expect of a heavenly body made manifest, it also presented an easy target if its enemies could get clear of its projectile pollution. The added firepower from the Seekers’ various minions, like Edward’s constructs and Ganondorf’s, made the first few moments of the fight especially painful for the Man in the Moon. Their poor evasive abilities made them easy pickings for the spike waves, though. Within a minute, the minions would all be gone. Except for the heroes’ new cats, who all seemed uniquely well-suited to the task of dodging these projectiles (when not addled by Madness, of course).

Once they became more familiar with the Man in the Moon’s attack patterns, as well as the frequency with which The Dark Itself felt inclined to interfere, the team’s melee fighters could leap into the fray with Roxas’ Tailwind at their backs. As speedy as ever, Heismay led the charge accompanied by three doppelgangers summoned by his Clone Art. His slashes did low damage, even when quadrupled, but every little bit sped up the rate at which the Man in the Moon’s health ticked down. Roxas, Ganondorf, and Ace (if the hunter opted to swap off his greatbow) hit much harder. Sectonia bade her minions to form a perimeter and help defend Mokou rather than employ her crystalline axe in melee range, but her spells punctuated her teammates’ efforts. Things seemed to be going well, but nobody was perfect, and the amount of hits taken from the various projectiles would only add up over time.

Heismay decided to pivot, foregoing the Man in the Moon’s body in favor of one of its hands. He darted forward, zigging and zagging to avoid crimson fireballs, then leaped at the giant limb in Assassin form. “Have at you!” His Lurking Nightblade cleaved into the arm like an axe into a tree, leaving a deep gash. The hand looked downward, its firepower diverted from the others, and focused its fire on the Eugief beneath it. Heismay weaved around, sacrificing his clones to briefly stun the hand again and again, as he continued to slash at the arm. After a few more strikes, the limb flinched and began to crumble. The eye in the hand’s palm went dark as it fell to the ground with a slam, which Heismay carefully avoided.

A couple seconds later, however, an eye opened on the back of the hand, and it levitated off the ground. Curling two of its four fingers against its palm, it began to float toward the nearest hero. It could no longer shoot projectiles, but it could still deliver a rock-hard wallop or seize a Seeker in its crushing grasp if approached.

Even once their sheer output dwindled a bit upon the destruction of their minions, the Seekers put out a lot of damage, aided by the Malice debuff applied by Blazermate. Just shy of a minute, the accumulated damage led to a loud crack as the Man in the Moon’s mask cracked. A huge fracture now split his face into three sections, and the pain seemed to awaken the being’s inner rage. His eyes began to glow red, and the pupil a brilliant white, as an angry flush suffused his mask. In response, the many eyes of The Dark Itself began to fly around en masse, and the pace of the Man in the Moon’s projectiles sharply increased. The Seekers were clearly making progress, but things were going to get worse before they got better. All the while the dormant sun continue to drink in Mokou’s heat, glowing brighter and brighter, a blazing furnace. It wouldn’t take much longer.

Hellsingers: Solomon's Miasma (Demon Slayer and Koudelka Inspired, European setting) [2/3-6 open]

I think you're striking on some great points of inspiration and I can't help but be interested in this unique blend of historical fantasy and gothic indulgence. I have a possible idea brewing...a man from British-colonized Botswana, instructed by Lutheran missionaries in subjects such as Dutch and devil hunting, who initially helped the diamond magnate Cecil Rhodes when the mines of his newly-established De Beers Group disturbed ancient evils hidden beneath the earth. After being recognized there for his skills he could end up bound on a ship to Europe in order to help quell the growing scourge up north.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Forbidden Kingdom - Warfang

Even though it had been a terribly long time since Anais had last ridden, it felt good -natural, even- to be back in the saddle. Kayna’s Velocidrome might be a far cry from a dragon, but they had plenty in common, and it probably worked to the seamstress’s advantage to get reacclimated using an easier, terrestrial mount. Avmar -whose vivid scales Anais happily stroked- proved a delight to ride, and kept up with his peppy partner with long, easy strides.

Though the two women originally set out to talk about Warfang’s resident consul, R, the conversation quickly turned back toward Avmar. Like any good pet owner, Kayna had a vast catalog of stories to enthusiastically share about her crested companion from years of partnership. She told Anais about their friendship with a talking parasaurolophus named Ralph, the time they found the giant omelette and Avmar ate so much he got a tummy ache, and their terrifying close calls with the colossal sauropod known as Dreadnoughtus. It sounded like the two had cultivated an ironclad bond, but while Anais couldn’t help but be jealous she never got the chance to befriend a ‘monstie’ like Kayna did, she mostly just felt happy for them.

She also knew, of course, that ‘storied’ individuals like Kayna and Avmar had certain ‘plot points’ in their lives laid out for them, a pattern they were always meant to fall into. Those two were meant to be together, and the logic behind the World of Light would always try to make it so. Things were never so simple for Lost Numbers like Anais, whose one-off lives were anyone’s guess. Lost Numbers could be anything…or nothing, which was so often how Anais ended up feeling.

With great reluctance, she turned the conversation back toward R. He apparently traveled often, never lingering in Warfang long despite it being the seat of his rule. When here he never held court or heard petitioners, and when not entertaining himself in the city arena his chief pastime was constantly squabbling with the city’s four guilds. Even then, though, R never evidenced any kind of policy or even objective, just a fervent desire to obstruct and sabotage the dragons’ efforts for no real reason. R seemed like a temperamental, irresponsible, and dangerous sovereign–in short, a typical consul. At the same time, his overwhelming concern with his own satisfaction rather than actual governance left the matters of day-to-day life in Warfang with the four guilds, which worked well enough for the citizens.

Sadly, Kayna just didn’t know that much about R. By the time she, Anais, and Avmar reached the Beast Makers’ guild, their conversation had turned back toward monsties. Before they could get into it again, though, Anais spotted Poppi jetting over the buildings and waved her down. “Poppi! Over here!” The artificial blade swooped down and landed close by, kicking up enough dust to make Avmar sneeze. After giving the Velocidrome a wary glance, and saying hello to Kayna, Poppi got down to business. “Poppi find out probable transportation for consul,” she reported. “It sound like upper-class Warfangers travel atop big-big creatures with platform saddles large enough to build mobile houses.” She crossed her metal arms. “If there no spaceship or limousine hidden nearby, that Poppi’s best guess.”

Kayna clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Oh yeah, those things. I don’t really get ‘em. Being a rider’s all about the special bond between monstie and rider. Those rich folks buy critters, then work ‘em to the bone without even getting to know ‘em. Plus, sticking a whole house on their backs? That’s just cruel.”

“It does mean he should be hard to miss when he goes,” Anais surmised, turning toward Warfang’s fortress. “Unless he comes to visit the stables he must be going by air. But there’s no flying beast big enough for something like that, is there?” Her gut told her that only one creature could possibly fit the bill: an ancient dragon, perhaps brought to heel by R’s Moebius control powers. If that was the case, ambushing him on the road would be a lot more difficult. She pursed her lips. “I wonder if Grimm’s found anything yet.”

As it happened, Grimm had just entered one of the citadel’s largest and most well-guarded areas: the hangar. Situated behind one of the enormous stone faces that adorned the rotating fortress, it had housed the battle dragons of the Sky Guard in Warfang’s Mokai days, but nowadays harbored reptiles that better suited R’s tastes. Rows of saddled pteranodons, to be ridden by Argonian bowmen and sorcerers, made up the bulk of the agile fighting force although a few argentavis added extra bulk and firepower to their ranks. In the middle of it all, however, rested an enormous quetzalcoatlus outfitted with an extravagant platform saddle sporting a house, complete with chimney, porch, and flower boxes. To the beast’s credit it actually seemed to bear the considerable weight, but that couldn’t be comfortable. It was an absurd enough sight to prompt a chuckle from just about anyone but Grimm.

The humorless bug made his approach. Crush was already among the workers as they made the finishing touches to the house, unhelpfully threatening and distracted them. At least his green quadrupedal counterpart, Gulp, helped move materials around. Most of the argonians here were either involved in the project or tending to their pteranodons, so Grimm knew that he could skulk up to the house undetected. If he stowed away, though, he would be unable to share his discovery with his teammates, and they were the ones who could actually communicate with the Avenger and thus Seekers.

This was a solvable problem, though. He withdrew into a corner and summoned a Grimmkin Novice, then whispered his underling’s purpose to it in a raspy tongue. The masked bug withdrew in silent obedience to find the others and report to them. Grimm watched it go, then turned as the doors to the hangar flew open and R himself strutted in.

“Alright, we’ve wasted enough time!” the consul yelled as he approached the quetzal. Behind him followed a personal assistant, an elderly Tyrannian Yurble, hauling a huge suitcase filled with R’s stuff. “Guards, mount up! I’m sick of this place already, we’re moving out!” He turned to bark at the struggling butler. “Hurry up, Smithers! I’m gonna need a good washing to get all this dragon-stink outta my scales!”

“Y-Yes, sir!” the Yurble gasped.

Grimm scuttled out of his hiding spot and made a beeline for R’s mobile home. Well before he reached his destination, the plateau’s rotten ruler would receive a nasty surprise.

Back outside, Poppi and Anais -having bid farewell to Kayna and Avmar- were startled by the sudden appearance of a Grimmkin. The ghostly bug whispered to them, almost impossible to understand, but Poppi did her best to interpret the razor-sharp, slithery rasps made by its inhuman mouthparts. “Giant quetzal leaving soon with consul?” She blinked at the Grimmkin. “How soon?”

As if to answer her question, a loud rumbling, grinding sound issued from the fortress. The mouth of one of the huge stone faces was opening. After a few seconds, the batlike silhouettes of mounted pteranodons began to spill from within, at least a half-dozen pairs in total. Then a huge flying beast as big as a stealth bomber emerged with a house on its back, soaring into the air. “That our cue,” Poppi declared, boosting into the air with her leg thrusters. She gave Anais an apologetic wave. “Am going after it. Call for pickup from Avenger.”

With no time to waste, she rocketed off into the sky to follow the aerial convoy from a distance. As she ascended, she dialed up her first contact on her built-in communicator, hoping that the roaring wind would drown out her voice. “Masterpon, let commander know. Target is on move. We have our heading.”

Forbidden Kingdom - Swopes Farm

Setting: Cloudy Friday Afternoon
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (289/150) Level 11 Big Band (224/110)
Bowser Jr, Rika & Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Primrose, Therion & Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1253

The flooded farmland presented a tricky challenge with disastrous consequences for failure. To Nadia, getting punched to pieces by Kazuya sounded like a much better fate than taking a tumble into that rancid, polluted water. Unfortunately, the feral wasn’t all that familiar with the jumping ability of her chocobo steed just yet, so she couldn’t trust it like she could trust herself. This was one situation where the gung-ho catgirl knew she ought to slow down, be careful, and think about the best course to take.

Junior and Rika were bound for the central pig barm, using a series of floating or half-submerged objects as stepping stones to get across. Their steeds were not the most agile creatures around, but their gas masks meant that the vile smell pervading Swopes Farm didn’t bother them, so they could focus fully on the task at hand. That said, Nadia figured that she shouldn’t follow in their footsteps. Crowding any one route would make it that much easier for the Seekers to run into one another, mess with a required platform, and so forth. Plus, it looked like they’d already managed to attract the attention of some men in little hovercrafts, fitted with the same masks that adorned the Koopa Kids’ horses. That smelled like trouble -insofar as Nadia could smell anything other than pig muck- so the feral wisely decided to steer clear.

After giving Grima a curious glance, wondering if the swordswoman’s hidden depths would come into play here, Nadia took a look around. A little ways to the north, near where the ridge of low mountains on the western side of Qingce Valley, Nadia spotted a handful of familiar blue shapes carefully hopping down a steep trail to arrive at the water’s edge where there happened to be a handful of large, yellow toads. “Oh, those guys again. And…” She narrowed her eyes, then prodded her chocobo to move forward. She’d seen plenty of critters throughout the journey thus far, but these toads didn’t look like ordinary wildlife. They sported interesting patterns shaped like flowers, green lilypads of various shapes, or stripes of solid color. In front them, a great many lilypads floated atop the floodwater, each with its own shape and colored flower.

As Nadia approached, she watched a zoombini climb up on a toad with the classic lilypad shape, the circular one with a triangular cut-in. The toad immediately set off, bounding across the field of lilypads. At certain points it made a sharp turn to the left or right for no reason that Nadia could see, but eventually it reached solid ground, where the zoombini got off.

Next, a zoombini mounted a toad with a pink stripe. It too began to spring from pad to pad, and this time Nadia noticed that it seemed to stick to only lilypads with pink flowers. After a few moments, though, the toad reached the end of the road. Surrounded by only cyan, yellow, and red flowers, the toad leaped onto a red one, only to plow through it and dive headfirst into the water along with its passenger. Nadia watched for a few seconds, but neither reemerged.

Nadia crossed one arm beneath her chest, rested her elbow on it, and then rested her chin on her fist in a thoughtful pose. The lilypads looked promising at first, but there was clearly something up with them that meant getting across wouldn’t be so simple. As another zoombini stepped up to try its luck, it looked more and more like each toad could only use lilypads that matched their patterns in some way, so Nadia turned her attention to the lilypad array. While she might be able to snag a toad ride herself, she didn’t want to leave her friendly, obliging, and expensive chocobo behind. But would the lilypads work for her?

She gave her mount a good look, stroking his feathers. “Well…you are yellow, like the toads.” But what was her chocobo’s ‘pattern’, which dictated the kind of path it could take? If its pure yellow plumage meant it could cross atop yellow-flowered lilypads, there did seem to be a winding path that offered a way across.

It was definitely a gamble, since Nadia had no way of knowing how this world’s logic worked, but she supposed that even if her chocobo splashed down, she could still probably leap off its back to safety. No way it can’t swim, she told herself. And it already kind of smells! It was worth a try.

Nadia drove her mount forward, toward the edge of the nasty water, where the chocobo slowed down nervously. The feral glanced at the remaining zoombinis dramatically. “If I die, just remember that Ms Fortune was toad-ally awesome. And don’t frog-et it!”

With a squeeze, Nadia urged the chocobo forward, and with a panicked tweet the big bird jumped. For a heart-stopping moment, Nadia thought both of them were headed for a smelly splashdown, but when her mount’s talons touched down on the yellow-flowered lilypad, it held. Nadia breathed a sigh of relief, patted the chocobo’s head, and praised his courageous spirit. “Good job, bud. Despite appearances, you’re definitely not chicken!” From there the two hopped onward, careful to steer clear of titanic tattooed toads, until they finally reached the other side.

Once on the far shore of the floodwater, Nadia reconvened with the other Seekers. Others could conceivably use the trails blazed by her or the Koopa Kids if they didn’t find their own ways across. It wasn’t long after the feral arrived that the team got their long-awaited phone call from Sandalphon via her angelic sigil, conveying what the team deployed to the Tyrannian Plateau had learned.

“R is officially en route, traveling via air from Warfang, the plateau’s capitol,” Sandalphon reported. Wherever she was, there seemed to be a slight echo, as if she were in a large cavern. Other voices could be heard faintly in the background. “He is traveling via quetzal, a giant flying reptile, with a house on its back. He is accompanied by a retinue of twelve airborne guards. Two agents, Grimm and Poppi, are on hand to assist with downing him once he nears you.” The archangel paused. “Proceed due northwest through the borderland between Tyrannia and the Fields of Gold. By my calculations, he’ll be in eyeshot within thirty minutes.”

Up ahead, the terrain beyond Swopes Farm dried out significantly as the temperature increased closer to Tyrannia, becoming a rugged badland patched with scrubby grasses and dotted with towering, windblown pagoda ruins. Yellow Wind Ridge appeared to be an inhospitable borderland with few to no settlements, making it an ideal battleground. It was still too early to tell exactly which dusty hill R would crest, but the Seekers could still make preparations for the ambush. This region offered several threats that could interfere with their business, after all. These were the froglike Lang-Li-Guhh-Baw, who wielded the power of lightning from his little oasis, the freakish, fossilized Earth Hound in a large gravesite, and bands of roving rat warriors around the area. Nadia decided to head for the nearest pagoda in the hopes of attaining a vantage point from which she could keep watch for the incoming consul.

Frozen Highlands - Moon Mountain

Setting: Frigid Friday Afternoon
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (107/100) Level 9 Heismay (8/90)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 798

A quick once-over of the hollow moon’s insides by Heismay confirmed what Sandalphon’s sight and scans had indicated: this strange space was totally empty, save for the cold, stone sun that floated in the middle. Of course, that did little to set the eugief’s heart at ease. Throughout the course of his life, he’d developed a strong, trustworthy instinct for impending danger. Combine that with a pessimistic streak that proved accurate all too often, and Heismay often seemed to possess a sixth sense for where and when fighting would break out. And right now, his instincts told him that this place, barren though it seemed, was the perfect spot for a battle against something very, very big. In fact, though he was tempted to dismiss it as mere paranoia, he could swear he felt some sort of presence here. As if something lurked nearby, unseen, for a chance to strike, just waiting for some kind of trigger. As for what that might be, there were only so many options.

Maybe the others felt it too. Though on the surface it seemed like a good time for a break, out of the bitter wind and the reach of remorseful memories, none of the Seekers really settled down. Instead they sharpened their blades, reloaded their firearms, used consumables, and kept a sharp eye out. Even the cats remained alert, their ears twitching at every echoed footfall as their tails curled and uncurled restlessly. So when Mokou volunteered to try and ignite the dead sun with her immortal flames (which made more sense thematically rather than logically but suited the end of the Midnight Walk in Heismay’s mind) all eyes were on her as she floated forward. Once in position, Sandalphon gave her approval, and the kindling began.

Mokou blazed bright, pumping a torrent of fire into the seven-pointed stone from below. Gritting her teeth, she mustered her own scuttled spirit and gave it more and more of her power. To Sandalphon’s surprise, the sun actually drank in the phoenix fire, increasingly aglow with radiated heat as Mokou continued to burn. Around it the air began to shimmer and swim, and the hollow moon filled with light.

Much to its chagrin.

The incandescence illuminated something within the darkness that hadn’t been there before: a mask-like face of cratered moonstone, with black eyes, a long spike of a nose, and a huge, leering smile. Sandalphon’s eye widened as she saw it, and a quick scan told her that this was no illusion. “Contact! Repeat, we have contact!” she warned the others, an exclamation point in her eyes as she summoned her hexagun.

Heismay’s blade was already unsheathed. “I knew it.“

VS the Man in the Moon…

The hollow began to shake as parts of the floor began to crack and splinter upward. From the moonstone emerged four giant hands the size of trees, each with an eye on their palms. Those eyes began to glow, and after a second a barrage of three crimson orbs shot out of each for a total of twelve, all with slightly different trajectories. “Hup!” Heismay dodged away from one, then backflipped out of another’s pass. When he saw a projectile headed for Sandalphon, he bullet-jumped the archangel’s direction in order to parry the shot with his scythe.

Unblinking, the Man in the Moon unleashed a thick wave of spikes, as pitch-black as his own body, that spread across the floor like a giant ripple. Sandalphon grabbed Heismay by the back of his coat with her off hand, then used Vault to sail into the air, where she slowed her fall with Heavensent to stay safe from the spike wave. Heismay saw an opportunity and took it. “Here we go!” He leaped off Sandalphon, glided through the air, and brought his scythe down on the Man in the Moon’s mask like a pickaxe. A few light gray chips went flying, and Heismay kicked off his foe’s face to get some distance. “Hah!” He shouted as he landed. “Is that all?”

A burst of white noise rang out from all around, and in the shadows opened a dozen giant, aberrated eyes. Surrounded in smoky blackness, they hurtled through the air of the hollow like vengeful spirits, leaving dark trails behind them.

...& the Dark Itself!

Heismay gritted his teeth. “The darkness…it hungers for her fire!” He took off running, determined to stay one step ahead of the abundant spikes and projectiles.

As the Seekers scrambled, Sandalphon called to Mokou. “Whatever you do, keep burning!” she instructed the Phoenix. “Beckon a new dawn, and banish the darkness!”

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Forbidden Kingdom - Warfang

When offered a ride, Anais’ first instinct was to politely decline, but the words caught in her throat when Kayna’s partner gave what sounded like an agreeable noise. Actually…a ride atop that splendid creature sounded pretty amazing, and not just because it would spare her some effort hobbling through the city with her crutches. Avmar was no dragon, of course, but he had plenty of his own charms. After swallowing, Anais glanced back at Kayna. “Oh no, I’m not bothered. That plan sounds fine to me, and honestly, I’d love a ride. What a handsome fellow~” With a monstie around, the seamstress seemed a little more confident. With a little help, she climbed aboard Avmar, then set off alongside Kayna toward the Beastmakers’ Guild. At a leisurely pace like this, there was plenty of time for the rider to fill Anais in about R.

Though many might have looked at a boiling-hot sandstone city filled with prehistoric reptiles and dragons and been uncomfortable, if not outright intimidated, Warfang was an exciting opportunity for Poppi. Since she joined the campaign she’d been among allies pretty much twenty-four-seven, and even when other Seekers weren’t around, she and Tora were an inseparable duo. With her masterpon’s attention on his big project, though, she could finally strike out on her own for a bit, to go where she wanted and figure things out for herself. And today, she would need every bit of her processor’s power to solve the conundrum before her.

While the others might focus on the person of interest himself, Poppi had a different strategy in mind. If Consul R planned to travel, it stood to reason that he’d need some sort of transportation, and the artificial blade meant to find out what. Her first guess would’ve been some sort of airship, since she remembered the reports of the consuls who attacked Alcamoth flying via massive battleship. As she traveled Warfang’s sun-baked streets, though, Poppi became increasingly sure that no such technology would be found anywhere near here. All ‘technology’ here came in the form of sticks, stones, and ropes, powered by manual labor rather than electricity. With no other robots around, Poppi stuck out like a sore thumb, constantly drawing curious or wary looks. Most Warfang citizens seemed nice enough, but Poppi actually found herself missing Susie anyway. She, at least, probably didn’t feel out of place; wherever commerce could be found, Susie would be in her element.

So, with no flying machines around, how would R travel? Poppi considered the possibility of him riding a dragon, but as far as she knew all the dragons around here were people, not beasts of burden. She might not mind giving a piggy-back ride now and then, but she doubted that majestic, powerful creatures like dragons might not submit themselves as easily. That left just one possibility, which she saw frequently enough around the streets of Warfang: riding a large monster, or ‘monstie’, as some locals put it.

Assisted by various helpful argonians and cavemen (to the extent their vernacular could explain things), Poppi gradually found her way to Warfang’s Bestiary. This wide-open, roughly circular structure served as not just a massive stable for the city’s many tamed creatures (created by the Beastmakers or otherwise), but a workshop where hide, fiber, and metal could be engineered into the various saddles and harnesses necessary to ride them. Poppi spotted agreeable parasaurs with colorful crests, towering dromas with troughs full of lumpy redsoil, and some kind of green-scaled gorilla frog thing. Poppi’s interest soon settled on a great tusked beast currently being fitted with a huge saddle, outfitted with something that was less of a seat and more of a small building. At the moment, the finishing touches were being put on by a well-built, taciturn wyverian man as a leather-clad hunter nodded approvingly. Poppi approached him.

“Hello! Is that yours?” she asked.

Unlike many of the people around here, Rex did not seem too put off by the artificial blade’s appearance. “Oh, yeah!” he replied enthusiastically. “Once this bad boy’s ready, I can go out on adventures for days at a time!”

Poppi nodded, looking impressed. “Very cool-cool. Is top-of-line saddle for sure.”

“Nah, this is just step one,” Rex explained. “If you get enough materials, you can get platform saddles for way crazier monsties. You should see some of the ones commissioned by the big shots around here. They’re basically walking palaces. Or even flying!”

Blinking, Poppi tilted her head. That sounded like just the sort of thing that a Consul might employ.

Rex was not done talking. “I’m looking for my little bro Maxwell,” he explained. “He went missing years ago, ever since our sister Lily got petrified. Most of us have given up, but not me.” He crossed his arms and turned to elaborate to Poppi, only to find that she’d disappeared without a trace. “...Oh.”

In Warfang’s citadel, Grimm’s infiltration was proceeding well. The wide, tall corridors, designed for the horns, wings, and tails of draconic sentries and illuminated by fitful braziers, offered plenty of places to hide. His feather-light footsteps did not echo, and if a guard happened to smell insect, what reason had he to believe that the keep had been breached by a living nightmare? Grimm skulked and warped his way through the chambers and passageways without issue, steadily seeking out the fancier, more well-furnished parts of the fortress where a pompous little overlord might be reasonably expected to reside.

In the upper reaches of the fortress the troupe master discovered some lavish living quarters, fit for a king, and in the opulent dining hall he found his target. At a round table laden with exquisite dishes sat a diminutive humanoid, only around four feet tall, with the unmistakable gray suit, cherry-red armor, and black cape of Moebius. The unique helmet on his disproportionately large head resembled a fanged reptilian maw topped with a spiral drill, and despite the other chairs arranged around the dining table, he seemed to be alone.

Grimm, carefully maneuvering among the rafters overhead, stopped directly above the Consul. His scarlet eyes peered down, identifying the back of R’s neck, then at his scythe-like claws. He could do it, right here, right now. In one deadly instant he could render the Seekers’ concerted effort moot with a single plunge of his claws as he wiped one more sorry member of Moebius off the roster. His gaze returned to the Consul, hungry and ready. From here, an assassination looked oh-so-easy.

…But no. That was pride talking. Everything he’d seen and heard about the Consuls indicated that they were all dangerous and unpredictable combatants. What reason had he to believe himself one’s equal? If he rushed into this, he could not only get himself killed but also ruin the opportunity for the others. Though it pained Grimm to be beholden to anyone, he knew he would be better off sticking with the plan. For now, he would stay right where he was to watch and wait.

In the middle of Grimm’s rumination, the doors flew open. Into the dining hall stomped a hulking blue brute with a huge wooden club, whose every step caused all the fancy furniture to rattle dangerously. “There you are, Crush,” the consul snapped irritably before downing the rest of his wine (through his helmet somehow, Grimm observed). “Is the Quetzal ready?”

His underling let out a series of growly noises that R seemed able to understand, as he cut Crush off immediately. “What!? Hurry it up then, fool! ‘Motivate’ the peons with that club of yours. If I have to come in there, I’ll be scraping off your sorry scales first!” He hurled a loaf of bread at Crush’s noggin, which bounced right off with no reaction. “MOVE!”

Even before Crush showed himself out, the Consul leaned back in his chair, groaning with one hand to his helmet. “Uuuuuugh. Dragons. I. Hate. Dragons.”

Grimm did not stick around to hear the rest of R’s tirade. Instead he departed, slipping through the doors before they closed behind Crush. Once he followed the brute back to this ‘Quetzal’, he’d know for sure just how the Consul would be leaving Warfang.

Forbidden Kingdom - Qingce Village

Setting: Cloudy Friday Afternoon
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (286/150) Level 11 Big Band (224/110)
Bowser Jr, Rika & Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Primrose, Therion & Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 545

It did not take that long for Amaterasu to repair the rope bridge. Of course, many of the Seekers had wandered off to check out the river valley, but a good howl from the wolf goddess brought the scattered team members back to where they started. There was no time to waste, after all, no matter how pretty and picturesque the Qingce Village area was. If nothing else, at least, the humble settlement, its earnest townfolk, and the natural beauty that surrounded it were reminders of what the Seekers were fighting for, and what a victory against Moebius R today would bring them once step closer to achieving.

Sadly, the gorgeous environment would not last forever. After mounting up again and crossing the repaired bridge with Pit in the lead again, the Seekers took a hard left and traveled west along the riverbank to circle around the mountain ridge opposite Qingce. The river turned north alongside them and slowly spread, running over its banks, as the land quickly opened up into a sprawling floodplain of sunflower fields, willow oaks, and power lines. As the team traveled further, more and more of the land became immersed in dirty brown water thick with floating debris. Everyone slowed their mounts to a stop as they neared the end of the road, with only flooded farmland ahead and to either side as far as the eye could see.

A little late, Nadia remembered what that man from the Ashwat Village stables mentioned about flooding to the northwest. Unfortunately she’d already forgotten that he called it ‘Swopes Farm’, but she guessed that didn’t really matter. Whatever the case, the rain last night hadn’t been that bad, had it? Maybe this area was just always like this. As her chocobo came to a stop, she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the liquid beneath her. “Yuck, the water smells like crap. I mean, actual poop. Do NOT touch that stuff unless you’re, like, immune to disease or somethin’. And even then, it’d still be gross.”

Her wandering eyes quickly identified a possible explanation. Not too far downriver, she could see a large barn damaged by high winds and surrounded by fetid floodwater. Her eyebrows rose as she read the big sign above the building. “Wait, is that a pig farm? Eugh, no wonder. This isn’t just water…it swine!”

As she took a better look at the flooded area around the farm, however, she couldn’t help but map out a route across the sunken silos, waterlogged cars, fallen tree trunks, wrecked sheet-metal sheds, floating sections of fence, and haybales. It would have been a piece of cake for her to get across on foot, but she figured even her chocobo could do it. Hell, even the horses, probably. Of course, the sprinklers currently spraying jets of filthy water around complicated things, but what was life without a little challenge?

Nadia took a deep breath and turned her chocobo to head downriver toward the farm. “Well, we’ve come poo far to turd back now. Let’s get jumpin’!”

Frozen Highlands - Moon Mountain

Setting: Frigid Friday Afternoon
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (105/100) Level 9 Heismay (6/90)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1527

Cat Upgrades

Saranwrap:
Emergency (Active)
Run to the ally with the most missing health, trampling everything in the way

Baconator:
Sucker Punch (Active)
Once activated, the next time an enemy moves within reach, stop its movement with a melee attack

One by one, the other Seekers arrived, each as grim as the last. Edward arrived first, surrounded by troops and constructs, but the haunted look on his face told Sandalphon that visions of a painful past had hounded him, too. He greeted them flatly, mentioned nothing of what Moon Mountain’s shadows had forced him to relive, and wordlessly got to work. He replenished his forces, dispatched scout drones doomed to wander aimlessly through the darkness, and bent his talents to the task of breaking through the roadblock ahead with brute force.

Seeing Edward’s efforts, Heismay stepped forward through the crunchy snow. His height meant that he couldn’t lay a reassuring hand on the tactician’s shoulder, but he offered what little he could. “Easy, friend. If you dealt with demons of your own back there, don’t be afraid to take respite. Bury your feelings beneath work and you’re apt to burn out.” He glanced down as Scrumpy padded over to lick at Whopper’s wounds, only for the little thief’s brother to pounce on the tinkerer as if to say hey, I’m taking care of him.

“No tower stands forever,” Sandalphon vaguely agreed. If there had been any wind up here, her weakened voice might not have carried from where she stood. The lack of breeze took the edge off the bitter cold, at least.

Heismay added, “I may know what to do about the door, as well” Not a lie, but he mostly said it in the hopes that it’d persuade Edward to slow down.

Next to arrive was Sectonia, although she looked rather unbothered to Heismay. Had she been able to face her fears resolutely, the eugief wondered, or did she just not have any real fears to face? So far, the bug queen had not given him the impression that she valued her subjects, allies, or life in general beyond their usefulness to herself. Given her superficiality, Heismay amused himself with the notion that her greatest regret was simply not being richer or more beautiful. As he continued to keep an eye out, Mokou arrived with her Spheal, both in pretty decent spirits despite what the Phoenix must have gone through. Roxas and Blazermate joined the group looking a little roughed up, and the medabot more than a little stressed out, but at least they were both in one piece. Once Ramattra and Ganondorf brought up the rear, Sandalphon finally had a full head count.

Once everyone had reached the walled-in snowfield, Sandalphon posed the assembled team an important question. “Did anyone find a key on the way up? It could take the form of a small card, tablet, or perhaps a cube, that could fit into this device.” She showed everyone the mechanism by the locked door, but her efforts were wasted, as it soon became apparent that nobody had happened to obtain a key of any kind.

Once she reached that conclusion, Sandalphon reevaluated the team’s options. “Although Edward is willing to employ his artillery units, I fear that breaking through will involve a high degree of resource and time expenditure.” She turned her gaze skyward. Though she could no longer see the Frozen Highlands’ clouds beyond the inky abyss, she could see where the peaks that enclosed this snowfield terminated. “I understand that aerial circumvention is a serious and perhaps unfair request to make of our fliers, but it may be the most economic option.” She had not forgotten one particular teammate’s earlier allusion, however. “Unless the idea you mentioned seems feasible, Heismay?”

The eugief had been waiting, and now he took a deep breath of the frigid mountain air. He did not feel any readier than he did before, but there was no way around this now. He had already spotted a giant matchbox half-buried in the powder near the snowfield’s entrance, and given its presence he could not help but feel as if it encouraged, if not outright intended, a certain solution. After all, he could see burnt, blackened, flame-warped matchsticks littered here and there beside the path. After everything, the Seekers were still on the Midnight Walk.

With everyone’s eyes now on him, Heismay retraced his steps. He slid open the matchbox, pulled a fresh match the size of a torch from within, and struck it against the traces of red phosphorus on the sides of the box. After a few tries, the match sparked to life, and with the flame held high he slowly strode out of the snowfield and to the cliff at the end of the mountain path. His cats, following in his footsteps so far, hung back.

“I lost my way again,” he murmured, reciting the hard-to-forget words from memory. “It’s getting dark now. But the dark is a well of ideas, a blank canvas full of possibilities. The dark itself is the key. All I need is a little spark, and then I get what I need.” He stood at the precipice, staring down. He could see no land, no sea, no sky. Nothing but a pitch-black nothingness, an infinite void. Heismay swallowed. “It hungers for fire, so I take a match, I light it, and I offer it.” Slowly, shivering, he extended his arm, holding the torch over the void. “I give it freely. I have to…surrender.”

He dropped the match. In an instant, it disappeared from view.

Then, in the dark, two great eyes opened, accompanied by a surge of staticky white noise.

They stared, their chromatically aberrant gaze roving between Heismay and the other Seekers. Then, after another moment, something flew up out of the dark and clattered across the stone at Heismay’s feet. He looked down to find a technological-looking stone tablet the size of a playing card, then immediately looked back up at the eyes, wary of a distraction. But the eyes were gone, and after they vanished, the uncanny darkness surrounding Moon Mountain dissipated. The backdrop faded back in, with its snowy hills, stormy clouds, and distant seas. Heismay could see the jubilant, multi-colored lights of the Christmas Village, a lone pillar that he thought was the space elevator, and a burning settlement that might be Krat Zoo.

He backed away from the edge, took another deep breath, and hurried back to join the others. When he reached up and slid the tablet into the cube-shaped device, the gate rolled open, and the Seekers could proceed through.

On the other side of a short upward passage they arrived at the peak of Moon Mountain. It was sparse, with nothing but a stretch of bare gray rock that led straight toward the moon itself. The moon floated just over the end of the path, with a rough staircase that led up into a large, gaping wound in the planetoid’s underbelly. As they approached, slowly and carefully, with Sandalphon and Edward at the lead, the Seekers kept a tight formation. Their journey through the Frozen Highlands, and everything they’d experienced -from manmade horrors to joyous festivity to sobering reflection- had brought them to this place. To this moment. In the end, it was all just a stunt to attract the attention of the region’s challenge-hungry guardian, and it was up to the ten of them (and their creature companions) to make sure it paid off.

As the rest climbed the stairs, some with the help of others, Mokou flew ahead to become the first to lay eyes on the moon’s interior. Within the great globe, she found a domed hollow with a flat floor, completely empty except for one thing: a seven-pointed sphere with an impression like a fingerprint, its central mass about the size of an elephant, which hovered motionless seven feet above the center of the space.

Naturally spry despite his age, Heismay reached the interior second and spotted the strange object right away. He then scanned the area, listening for any signs of danger, as Roxas and Edward helped Sandalphon up behind him. “What is that?” he wondered aloud, peering at the object. “Could…could this be the sun?”

Sandalphon narrowed her eye at the thing. “What gave you that idea? We are beneath the clouds, and it is daytime beyond the Frozen Highlands. The sun shining upon the World of Light could not possibly be here.”

“I understand, but we are inside a moon,” Heismay pointed out. “It could be metaphorical. The Highlands are gripped by a curse of eternal night, yes? What better representation could there be than a sun, cold and dead, locked within the moon, a symbol of night?”

The archangel did not look satisfied with that explanation. “If we suppose that is the case, what do we do about it?”

At that, Heismay could only shake his head. “That’s where my wellspring of sage advice runs dry, I’m afraid.”

Within the still, dusty, deathly quiet interior of the moon, the Seekers searched for answers.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Forbidden Kingdom - Warfang

Despite her determined announcement to get her teammates moving, Anais lingered in the vicinity of the marketplace for a few minutes after splitting up from Susi and Poppi. Her crutches did not give her the luxury of quick relocation, yes, but she also just wasn’t sure where to go yet. Even if she did remember Warfang’s layout from her childhood, and she most certainly did not, so much had changed that Tyrannia’s capitol might just as well be a new city. She figured she needed to get somewhere with a good view, but there was no telling if any of the grand towers that protruded from the sandstone cityscape were open to the public, or the private property of one of the four great dragon guilds. It would be hard for the factions in play here to be as cruel and ruthless as the district bosses back in Warfang’s Mokai days, but it paid to be careful in this region nonetheless. Its reptilians inhabitants might be cold-blooded, but civilized or not, tempers could flare as hot as the midday sun. And that was very hot indeed, so hot that the seamstress felt it increasingly important that she find herself some shade.

Already sweating, Anais made her way to a leopard-hide awning between a granite grillhouse called Tyrannian Foods and a cavewoman-owned prehistoric boutique by the name of Ugga Shinies, where she seated herself a respectable distance away from an elderly lady with bone jewelry and a theropod companion, who gave her an amicable nod. After carefully setting her crutches down, the seamstress rested to watch the marketplace as she tried to catch her breath.

There were so many people, human or otherwise, hustling and bustling about the place. She supposed that they simply must be accustomed to the conditions here. In the intervening years since her childhood here, Anais knew she’d gotten very acclimatized to the Avenger’s comfortably climate-controlled interior. It had been so long since she’d even seen combat…she loved peace, of course, but she knew she was made for more. As the child of a warrior princess and an elite warrior of the Sky Guard, fighting was in her blood. Nevertheless, she’d come to this dangerous place, the home of Moebius R an countless powerful dragons, unarmed. Well…with crutches under both arms, there wasn’t much room for her dusty old axe.

As she rested, Anais happened to turn her attention back toward the omelette stand Grimm took an interest in earlier. There wasn’t much of a breeze to carry tantalizing smells her way, but the food did look good enough to remind her that she hadn’t had lunch. At the moment, an eye-catching duo happened to be there: a sporty young woman and a splendid raptor-like dinosaur with bright blue scales and vermillion stripes. Even from here, Anais could appreciate its spiky fangs -made for skewering fish but perfectly suited for chomping omelettes- and its wicked carving talons, one per foot. Her gaze lingered longest on its saddle, reminding her just much she missed mounting up on a scaly beast of her own. She couldn’t help but be jealous of the Velocidrome’s rider…who, now that Anais looked closer, rather perfectly matched the description provided by Primrose prior to the mission. Her brown eyes opened wide. “Oh. Oh!”

Anais rose in a hurry and made a beeline for the other woman as fast as her crutches would let her, careful as always not to step on any tails. She caught Kayna mid-munch only a few seconds after she left the omelette stand and gave an awkward bow of pre-emptive apology for the words that then poured out of her. “Hi, hello, sorry! Are you Kayna? I’m an ally of Primrose Azelhart? She met you in, um, Meridi-at-han?” She paused only briefly to hope that she had her facts straight. “I’m here with some friends. Two metal girls, and a big bug named Grimm. We’re here for Consul R. Uh, here hoping to meet him, that is. Do you know him? Or I mean, know about him? You know, where he is, what he’s up to, when and where he might be going…uh, anything?”

She let out a nervous laugh and tried to calm down. “Ahah, excuse me. I’m moving too fast. Impatient. I’m Anais, Anais Partridge. If you are Kayna _{and I seriously hope you are} it’s, uh, a pleasure to meet you.”

Elsewhere in Warfang, Grimm was moving quickly. Even in a sunlit, sandstone city like this, the afternoon sun cast plenty of shadows, and the prevalence of non-human inhabitants played to Grimm’s advantage. He moved quickly, quietly, and thanks to his teleportation ability, non-linearly. In no time at all, he reached the base of the enormous, roughly cylindrical stone fortress that formed Warfang’s centerpiece.

It sat, endlessly and inexplicably rotating, atop a sort of sloped pedestal. Three quarters of it looked like rough stone, but one side had been painstakingly carved into sheer surfaces beneath six arched openings where stalwart Peacekeeper sentries stood in the flickering light of braziers. Grimm paused in the shade of a dragon statue as he peered up at the citadel. The entrance would no doubt be heavily guarded, but those lookout posts featured just one guard apiece. They would be on guard for any winged assailants that might attempt unlawful entry, but what about a small, scuttling shadow, crawling down from above? Grimm darted forward, his blurred form as indistinct and fleeting as a desert mirage, and began to climb.

Forbidden Kingdom - Fields of Gold

Setting: Cloudy Friday Afternoon
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (285/150) Level 11 Big Band (224/110)
Bowser Jr, Rika & Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Primrose, Therion & Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2043

Despite her small stature, Yayama was sturdily built, enough so that the 7’7”, five thousand-pound cyborg Big Band actually noticed when she bumped into him. He did not begrudge her one bit, however, and when she greeted him with an update request he gave a nod of acknowledgement. “No sweat, there’s a lot to think about. Of all the challenges this world throws at us, Consuls might just be the worst. They got a whole lotta nasty tricks up their sleeve, and that’s just the powers all of ‘em have; there’s no tellin’ what ‘secret ingredient’ R’s bringin’ to our li’l shindig.”

Band gave a sharp, tense sigh and looked around at Ashwat Village. Ordinary people were coming and going, just another day of trying to make a living off the land and its bounty. “As for news, nothin’ much. Everythin’s quiet ‘round here. All business as usual, far as I can tell. I’ve pretty much been a city slicker my whole life.”

As he surveyed the scene, though, he spotted one person who didn’t stick out as she sauntered Big Band’s way, her calico tail waving behind her. The detective tilted his head in the catgirl’s direction, indicating the way that Yayama should glance. “I guess there’s one li’l bit of good news. Look what the cat dragged in.”

Nadia could easily spot Big Band among the steady parade of farmers, carts, and draught animals, but she didn’t quite notice Yayama until just before she came to a stop at the cyborg’s side. “Oh, hi.” Although her meeting with Band with reasonably well, all things considered, she dreaded the possibility of having to go through the process of admitting guilty, expressing contrition, and resolving to do better with every Seeker of Light that found his or her way here. Nadia quickly decided to not get into it and leave it to the dark knight to broach the subject, if she felt so inclined. Instead she gave what she hoped was a disarmingly friendly smile. “Glad you’re stickin’ it out with us. We’re an odd bunch, and it’s a sucky job, but someone’s gotta do it, eh?” She scoured her mind for possible puns to squeeze into her speech, without any possible racial insensitivity, but for the moment the catgirl came up short.

Only a few moments after the lalafell’s absent-minded arrival, Primrose made an radiant entrance to Ashwat, and seconds later her sticky-fingered companion showed up with a fresh new color scheme. Big Band’s titular stature made it easy for the comrades to find one another, and although it felt good to be reunited, the Seekers did not spend much time on idle pleasantries. Rather than the past, Therion put the team’s focus onto their future–specifically, one without Kazuya in it. Nadia’s faked death might mean she was off the villain’s radar for now, but the heroes would only know peace once G-Corp’s overlord was out of the picture for good. “Right,” she replied, limbering herself up as if she was going to get on that right now. “He made things purr-sonal. I’m itchin’ to make that bastard pay.” Cracking a smile, she winked at her fellow thief. “Plus, once he’s taken care of, the rest of his sneakers are ours for the takin’. No footwear ish-shoes ever again!”

Just then, another few reinforcements turned up: two captains (one by name, one by nature) and a twintail-sporting swordswoman. Unfamiliar with this newcomer, Nadia sized her up quickly. She looked fancifully medieval, in sort of the same vein as Yayama, and her eyes lacked Galeem’s sunset-red glare…even if they possessed another, subtly predatory glint that the feral couldn’t quite place. Nadia glanced at Pit for an introduction of some sort, figuring that an explanation fell to the person in charge, but the angel seemed more preoccupied with the task ahead. Well, the feral couldn’t really fault him for that. When Grima looked her way, Nadia gave a cheerful grin and a breezy wave.

By now, Nadia was actively checking the road that led south back toward Esaka, and sure enough, when she looked again she spotted a couple more Seekers. Bowser Jr, Rika, the wolf Amaterasu, and the Bogard twins made for the strangest assortment yet. They arrived to find the rest of their comrades talking strategy about what came next.

“Northwest,” Band corrected Pit. “And from what I gather, there ain’t any roads leadin’ that way. Which is actually good for us. If we catch R in the middle o’ nowhere, he ain’t got any innocents to drag into the fight. And I know for a fact that their teleports ain’t good for long-distance travel, so all we gotta do is catch him.” Of course, that wouldn’t be easy. The theoretical ambush depended on intelligence from the operatives in Tyrannia, but given the amount of ground to cover the Seekers would probably need to get started before they got word, or it might be too late to intercept R en-route. And once they intercepted him, it wouldn’t be right to say that things got easier from there, given how powerful and unpredictable Consuls could be. Still, there were thirteen people here now, almost every Seeker in Esaka. They weren’t planning to make it a fair fight.

When the conversation inevitably turned toward practical matters, Nadia spoke up. “Oh, I found a way we could cover some ground? Maybe? Over here.” Beckoning to the others, she led the way through Ashwat toward a special building. The giant, cobbled-together horse head atop it, as well as the pungent, heady odor of animals, marked as the stable. Nadia winced, wrinkling her nose at the smell, and took a look. There seemed to be three kinds of horses available: a reddish brown kind, a chocolate brown kind, and a kind with a very weird head. That wasn’t all, though. To the feral’s surprise, she also found a handful of giant yellow chickens also geared up for transportation. Finally, there was something between a wolf and a badger, with white fur that might’ve been majestic if it wasn’t so dirty.

Nadia seemed to be having second thoughts. “People really ride animals like these…?” She’d faced bigger and scarier creatures throughout the World of Light already, so the beasts here didn’t exactly scare her, but she did not relish the prospect of trusting her life to one. “Well, whatever you guys want, I can cover the cost. I’ve got a mount-tain of cash and I’m not horsin’ around!”

A moment later, Band walked over from the local he’d been talking to. “Bad news, folks. It’s later than I figured, so there’s no way we’re gettin’ done with this before my next match. It’s either go without me, or I drop outta the tournament.” He peered at the various animals available for rent from the stable. “I don’t think any critters here want me ridin’ ‘em anyway.”

“It’s ok, we got this! Can’t fur-get the main mission after all.” Although Nadia had another match today herself, it would be late enough in the day that there should be plenty of time to deal with R and get back to Esaka before she got disqualified. “If twelve of us can’t beat one Consul, thirteen probably ‘dozen’ make a difference.”

The feral headed into the stable and reached for her magic wallet as she stepped up to the counter. “Hey there! We wanna rent some mounts for a li’l trip northwest, so you’re in for some ‘stable’ income!”

“Splendid!” The mustached man behind the counter clasped his hands. “Northwest, you said? Careful not to stray too far, I hear the flooding’s quite extensive, especially near Swopes Farm.” Shrugging, he gestured toward the available animal. “Well, we have plenty of horses, chocobos, and wulgs today. Which would you like?”

Nadia scratched her chin as she took another look around. “Hmm…well, the horses smell. Dogs and cats don’t mix. So how about a chicken? Er, chocobo?”

The man turned to whistle to a coworker, and after a moment or two she brought out a gallant chocobo steed with fluffy feathers and a brilliant dandelion color. The farmhand offered Nadia the reins. “How’s this?”

Nadia reached up to stroke the chocobo’s neck and smiled when he did not flinch away. “Poultry in motion!” She turned to look around at the other Seekers, her expression innocent. “So how does it work?”

After a good ten or fifteen minutes, the team’s mounts were paid for and ready to. Band, along with any other Seekers who couldn’t make the journey, stood by to watch the assorted horses, chocobos, and wulgs of various sizes gather at Ashwat’s edge, some riders much more confident than others. “Good luck, everyone,” he intoned, and a moment later the adventurers were off.

Within minutes of departing from Ashwat Village, the rolling golden wheatgrass gave way to a sprawling, watery rice field, where the streaks of sunlight through gray clouds shone down on glittering rivers, vibrants fronds, bamboo thickets, and trees chock-full of snow-white buds, all adrift in perpetual motion thanks to a fresh, ever-present breeze. Just as expected, no roads existed to show the Seekers the way, so they needed to rely on the position of the early afternoon sun to tell which direction to go. Conveniently, though, the wind seemed to blow at their back the whole time, as if speeding the heroes onward toward victory. In order to not risk drowning their mounts the team took advantage of the green, grassy stretches between the rivers, rather like roads in appearance. Bamboo rafts and giant lily pads permitted them to cross the waterways with a couple well-timed jumps. Other than the terrain itself, easily-startled beretsants, and the occasional farmer hard at work, no obstacles barred the travelers’ progress, making it an ideal time for conversation. They could also see plenty of interesting wildlife, from froglike Croajiro to watchful Kingambit.

After a good twenty minutes or so, the farmland got a little hillier, the groves of trees around the edges more dense, the farmhouses less frequent, and the horsetail reeds more prevalent. When the travelers exited a small rocky pass, they found themselves overlooking a beautiful fertile valley split by a rushing, deep river, too wide for even the sprightliest chocobo to jump over. The rope bridge, it seemed, was out. This valley housed a small settlement, though, which made it a poor spot for a showdown with R. If they meant to move on, the Seekers would need to find an expedient way across the river.

“Augh, my thighs are KILLIN’ me.” Once she dismounted, Nadia stretched, contorting her body in ways that should not be possible as she took a look around. It was a very pretty area, but they couldn’t stop and smell the roses right now. The locals seemed friendly, at least, and she could already see a farm girl and botanist duo possibly hoping to sell their wares to the newcomers. Upstream a ways, Nadia’s sharp eyes spotted a couple rope bridges stretched between rocky ridges. As she watched, though, one of the several small blueberry-like creatures attempted to cross, only for a face on the cliff she hadn’t seen yet to sneeze and launch the zoombini back where it came. “...Huh.”

Frozen Highlands - Moon Mountain

Setting: Frigid Friday Afternoon
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (102/100) Level 8 Heismay (83/80)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1693

Now much larger than the angry paripus rioters in his Assassin form, and given a second wind by his determination to keep his poor cats alive, Heismay steeled himself for action. With great effort he forced himself to turn away from the ghastly gallows that leered at him from within Moon Mountain’s shadowy alcove. From somewhere within the unruly throng he could still hear his long-lost son’s voice, his scared and plaintive cries begging his father to save him from the savage beastmen who’d trample him half to death and leave him to die, too far gone to be saved by the time his absent father finally arrived. This vision of the past stung Heismay like a dagger to the heart, and so did the act of abandoning it, but after the cats’ yowls of pain brought the eugief to his senses his anger burned much hotter than his regret. Whoever or whatever might be responsible for these phantoms, how dare they try and prey upon him, deceive him like this, with the memory of his boy. The past could not be changed, but the future had yet to be written, and Heismay would atone for his mistakes by not letting them happen again.

Even as he made to leave the sorry scene behind, however, Heismay realized it would be no mean feat. Between him and the upward path stood rows upon rows of paripus malcontents, snarling and gnashing their teeth like rabid dogs. “Leave us be!” Heismay took the initiative and sprang forward, unshouldering the Assassin’s curved greatsword for a wide, round slash that struck a whole row of beastmen at once. They faltered, stumbling backward, but the next second the crowd pushed forward again. Holding his cats close to his armored chest, the swordsman struck again and again to try and clear a path, but the horde would simply not yield. No matter which way Heismay turned, he found only more enemies out to get him, lashing out with cruel punches and kicks, stones, bricks, and other makeshift weapons. There were simply too many of them.

After a few moments he stepped back, tensed up, and then sprang upward in an attempt to leap clear over the crowd. For a brief moment his heart soared as he flew toward the open night air outside the alcove, only for hands to close around his feet and yank him back to the earth. “No!” He landed with a heavy slam as he attempted to cushion the cats’ fall with his Archetype’s large body, then rolled backward as the paripus threatened to dogpile him. When he sprang to his feet, pushing free from grasping hands, the alcove’s exit looked even further than before.

“Curses!” Heismay spat, his voice given a metallic resonance in his Assassin form. He glanced down at his cats to make sure they were still alive, then glared at the mass of rioters. “Paripus scum!” Unable to sustain his Archetype any longer, he reverted to his normal form, and backed further away with one kitten clutched in each arm. With every moment, every expenditure of magla, it seemed less and less likely that he’d be able to fight his way out of this. These obscure enemies, either no-selling his attacks or replenishing their numbers as fast as he reduced them, did not seem to follow the rules of combat as the eugief knew them. What, then, was he to do?

Breathing heavily, Heismay tried to slow down and think about this. For the moment, the rabble didn’t appear to be pushing forward, at least. He’d already gotten an inkling, based on how this encounter was clearly tailored to his painful past, that this was less of a combat challenge than it was some sort of trial or lesson. “But I’ve already chosen to make up for my failings by safeguarding these young ones,” he muttered, frustrated. “So why am I still stuck?”

Still wary, he tried to study the faces in the throng before him, searching for anything that could be a sign, a hint, or an opening. He saw nothing but murderous eyes and malicious, toothy smiles, ready to rip him limb from limb. More beast than man. “Tis all because of you,” he growled. “You people. You think yourselves victims, then turn around and trample those weaker than you underfoot, just as bad as your oppressors. Blindly tearing others down, in the hopes that it might raise you up!”

After tucking one cat along with the other under one arm, he began to gesture with angry indignation. “Look at me! The eugief tribe is outcast, worse off still than the paripus, and yet I made something of myself. Grueling and thankless it was, but I worked hard and gained a life that I could be proud of, something I could be happy with!” Tears congealed in his eyes as he gritted his teeth. “Only for you to take it away!”

The paripus began to push closer. Heismay shook his tears out and seized his scythe to brandish at the bloodthirsty throng as he began to retreat, one step at a time. “. For just a moment, though, his eyes darted back toward the gallows, to the limp figure that hung there. “Maybe you lost people, too. Loved ones. Sons and daughters, friends of your own. But what gives you the right!? To spread the same sort of evil you suffered!?” His back touched the uneven rock wall of the alcove, and he swallowed. “Maybe it was just an accident,” he guessed, a little too quickly. “I know…not every paripus is to blame for hurting him. But he laid there, on the street, for hours. How many dozens…how many hundreds of you saw him, broken and bleeding, and did nothing? Did not care?” His voice almost broke, but he choked back his grief to let out a fierce bellow. “So why should I!?”

Without realizing it, Heismay had lowered his scythe. When he looked up in the moment of silence that followed, he saw that the crowd had slowed to a stop. When he stared at their faces, he found not beasts, but mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, haggard, hungry, sick, old, and tired. Widows, widowers, and orphans. After a moment, his gaze drifted downward. The alcove was quiet.

“I blame the paripus,” he murmured quietly. “Of course I do. I must. But I mostly blame myself. For not being there. For my failure as a father.” He thought about the supposed nature of this trial and tried to work through his feelings. “This place…the final stop on our journey to the moon itself. Tis only fitting it would be our greatest challenge yet.” He shook his head with a snort. “Tis a mirror, isn’t it? A dark mirror. Reflecting the worst parts of us. What mountain is harder to scale than ourselves?”

He set his cats down and stroked their heads. “Hatred breeds hatred,” he thought aloud. “I’m well aware. Perhaps if I look at paripus and see only enemies, enemies are what I’ll find. So it’s up to you.” Heismay peered at the shadows, his gaze unwavering. “If you are beasts, I suppose you’ll try to kill me. But if you are men…you’ll let us pass.” The eugief took a deep breath, stowed his scythe, and walked forward.

His instincts cried out in alarm, and nervous energy filled his body, but as he approached the wall of legs and tails he found that he could slip through. It felt like making his way through a dark forest, albeit much more claustrophobic, but slowly he found his way through the crowd. His cats followed behind, afraid but trusting. After only a few moments, Heismay emerged from the alcove and onto a rocky ledge with the brothers at his feet. He stood, staring out into the void beyond the mountain for a moment, then turned to look over his shoulder. Behind him, the alcove was empty, a nook of nothing but stone and shadow. Heismay closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and began to climb.

Only a minute or two later, the three reached a relatively flat, recessed snowfield on the mountain slope. Heismay almost jumped to see the moon so close, only a couple hundred feet away. Had he already reached the peak? Up ahead, the path led through a narrow rock passageway to a round door in a wall of stone that seemed to block the way to the moon. When he approached he received his second surprise: that Sandalphon, of all people, had beaten him here.

“Hello,” he greeted her as he trudged her way. Despite the altitude, he felt no wind. He could see no clouds or stars, or sky at all, nor any horizon. It was as if Moon Mountain hung in an ink-black abyss, and it unsettled him. “Are you well? Did you encounter any trouble?”

Sandalphon’s eye looked empty, not even reflecting the soft light of her halo. “Only some unpleasant visions.”

“I see. And you overcame them?” Heismay furrowed his brow as the archangel nodded. “If I may ask…how?”

Sandalphon returned her attention to the strange, cubic totem by the door. “I simply informed them that they had the wrong person.”

The frankness of her response amused Heismay enough despite the bleak circumstances to elicit a snicker. “Hmph. Why didn’t I think of that?” He crunched through the snow to get a better look at the odd cube. “What’s that?”

“Some sort of archaic device,” Sandalphon reported. “It seems to accept a key. Did you find one on your way up here?”

Heismay shook his head, followed by both Baconator and Whopper. When he realized Sandalphon wasn’t actually looking at him, Heismay cleared his throat. “Uh, no.” His thoughts drifted back to last night, to the burnt-out shack near the Christmas Village. “Let’s hope one of the others arrives with it.” When he stopped speaking, the mountaintop fell dead silent, except for the occasional meow of the Seekers’ cats.

Graveyard Orbit

What could've easily been a brutal, one-sided hate crime turned into an all-out bar brawl as the newly-arrived prisoners made their stand against their alcoholic aggressors. Maybe the surly locals thought that the unfamiliar misfits would make for easy pickings, but James, John, Saeyon, and the rest offered staunch opposition in a onslaught of punches, projectiles, and makeshift weapons. Fueled by military rigorous training regimens instead of crudely distilled intoxicants rife with acetone and aldehydes, the newcomers fought well, and as the number of conscious Dhasath rapidly dwindled, the destruction within the saloon mounted. This establishment would probably go bankrupt from all the property damage...just what about the unwanted unfortunates could have possibly sparked such devastating vitriol?

Bandit didn't think too hard about it; what mattered to her was that her new 'friends' made excellent distractions. Their efforts gave the deceptively stealthy android almost free reign to scour tables and peruse pockets. In no time at all, Bandit racked up a handful or two of dirty banknotes, frayed and sweat-stained, several personal effects like watches and rings, and plenty of different coins. Ultimately, her spoils didn't amount to that much, maybe equal to the cost of a battery pack or three, if she was lucky.

Luck was seldom on the thief's side, however. Even if Bandit tried to not draw attention to herself, it was only a matter of time until one of the locals spotted her crouching beside a stunned drunkard and paused long enough to realize what she was up to. Bandit's optical sensor snapped up at the sound of a snarled insult and bore witness to an angry brute of elephantine proportions, thundering her way with a makeshift bludgeon in hand.

Without a word, nor even a second's hesitation, Bandit turned and bolted away in abject terror. She pulled over a barstool behind her in the hopes that it'd trip up any would-be pursuer, then expended some of her precious energy to rocket forward with her legs' built-in thrusters. The next moment, she through herself headfirst through a window (which shattered noisily) and into the street or alleyway beyond, ready to flee as far and as fast as she needed to. Maybe she could've gleaned a little more moolah from the aftermath of the fracas inside the saloon, but whatever paltry sum she might gain from her vulturism certainly wasn't worth her life.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Got a little bonus section up for a perspective shift in the Tyrannian Plateau. Some Seekers have a mission to accomplish there, but it's also an open invitation for you players. If you've already got at least one accepted character in the RP (and you have spare time), you can just jump right in to the situation there as an NPC, whether to help or hinder the Seekers' mission, and I'll try to include you. Could be fun!

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Forbidden Kingdom - Tyrannia

♫

In the northwest reaches of the Forbidden Kingdom sprawled the vast and untracked Tyrannian Plateau, an arid and rocky table-land dotted by towering volcanoes and carved up by great canyons and valleys of steamy, primeval, heavily jungled riverland. From the pre-sumerian suburbs to the breathtaking cascades of the central basin to the bone-littered lava flows of the Skelos Badlands near Death Mountain, it was a realm perpetually locked in the distant past, the stomping grounds of cantankerous cavemen clad in leopard-pelts and giant reptiles where size and strength were everything. Over this savage land the Avenger soared unnoticed, blissfully free from the gaze of watchful binoculars, radar towers, and satellite tracking, to rattle off a salvo of four hellpods bound for a high, dusty ridge crowned by spiky, coniferous monkey-puzzle trees. Once the four operatives recovered from their drop, shooed away a couple curious dinosaurs, and hiked a short way to the nearby overlook, they were afforded a spectacular look at their destination. Before them lay an enormous sandstone city, its domed towers radiant in the early afternoon sunlight, not at all to the absurd scale of Midgar, but impressive nonetheless.

After a long, deep breath, Anais Partridge turned back toward her companions with the aid of her crutches. Though she’d come a long way from her childhood home, as evidenced by her very modern white silk blouse and black newsboy cap, the lavender-and-brunette seamstress had been indelibly marked by her time here. It had changed a great deal, but so had she. It need not be a woeful homecoming.

“This is it,” she told the others. “Warfang. The capital of the Tyrannian Plateau.”

When her companions offered no comment, she turned back toward the wasteland metropolis below. Her gaze lingered on the huge stone fortress that dominated the city center, adorned with carved faces several stories in height and constantly rotating. “Well, it’s not like Tyrannia has any other cities to speak of. The people of this region mostly fight over this one. As recently as ten years ago, it was home to the Mokai, a society of dragonriders. Now, it is home to dragons.”

“Dragons?” Susie’s baby-blue optics widened slightly as the robotic secretary tried to get a better look at Warfang. “Are you serious?”

“They’re mostly friendly, but yes, dragons.” Anais smiled teasingly. “No hostile takeovers today, hm?”

Susie gave a staticky scoff. “Hmph. Dragon or not, money talks. But since it’s just a quick trip, I guess I’ll mind my own ‘business’ for now.”

With a slight tilt of her head, Poppi gave Anais a thoughtful look. “It sounds like you’ve been keeping eye on place. Friend Anais visit often?”

“Oh no, no.” Anais shook her head. “The Warfang I knew is gone. There’s nothing for me here now. But I stay informed enough that it’s still my area of expertise.” This time, she gave a wry smile. “It’s why SJ picked me, after all. Hopefully I won’t be too much of a burden.”

Furrowing her brow, the Artificial Blade shook her head. “Friend of Poppi is never burden.”

At that point, the team’s taciturn fourth member, who’d been staring in solemn silence at Warfang from a higher precipice nearby, hopped down. Sorely out of place in a daylit wilderness, Grimm landed as light as a feather and stalked forward on spindly ink-black legs, his cloak rustling softly in the warm breeze. The gloomy insect said not a word but passed by the three ladies on his way to the edge, then jumped down and vanished like a dream upon waking.

Careful not to overbalance, Anais leaned over the edge and peered down to see Grimm sliding down the rocky slope below. “I suppose we’d better get going,” she muttered, looking around until she found a less steep, more plausible route down the mountain toward Warfang. “Don’t wait for me. I can manage on my own.”

“Well, that not do,” Poppi chuckled. “How about piggy-back ride? Masterpon ride piggy-back all time, and nopon not that different from human.”

For a second or two Anais blinked at her, not sure if she was joking. It was long enough for Susie to grow impatient. ”I’ve got a much better idea. Here.” With the press of a button, the secretary summoned her heavy-duty mech, painted as pink as her hair, which slammed down hard enough to send Anais’ own waist-length hair billowing. ”Normally it costs a pretty penny to rent this thing out, but since you’re basically crippled, this one’s on me. Just be careful. It’s sturdy, but if you do damage it, I’ll expect repayment in full. Plus interest!”

“Thanks…” The seamstress eyed the machine dubiously, then gave a sigh after a moment. “Well. If a nopon is basically a human, a mech is basically a dragon, right? Might as well.”

After Poppi helped her into the machine and Susie gave her a quick tutorial, the mech got moving. Its drill allowed for a controlled descent down the steep, dusty surface of the mountain, and despite her doubts Anais got a feel for the mech quickly. That left the two mechanical maidens to follow behind, keeping an eye on the Lost Number as they hovered after her.

”It’s weird having you around without Tora,” Susie remarked to Poppi idly. ”I kind of like it, actually. What’s this super-important project he can’t tear himself away from?”

“Poppi not at liberty to say,” the Artificial Blade replied. “...Although, between Susie and Poppi, it seem like Masterpon hard at work -literally- on next generation of Blade-style ladybot, bigger and better than ever.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Poppi try not judge anypon for freaky tastes, but if Masterpon try replacing Poppi, he in serious trouble.”

Susie narrowed her eyes at her comrade. “Replace? You think he doesn’t want you anymore after he rebuilt you in Midgar?” She tilted her head. “Well, since he used mostly Vandelay tech for your new body, I guess you’re not really a ‘Blade’ anymore, hm? And if you’re not a Blade, he’s not much of a Driver. I see where you’re coming from…”

“‘Friend’ Susie really not helping!” Poppi snapped.

At length the three reached the lower plateau. Naturally, they found no sign of Grimm anywhere, but once they made the short trek from the foot of the mountain to the gates of Warfang they found the big bug already veiled in shadow. Up close, the city of dragons seemed bigger than ever, with everything from doorways to drinking fountains scaled up to suit the draconic citizenry. Draconic imagery was everywhere, most obvious in various majestic statues depicting important members of the four guilds: Peacekeepers, Artisans, Beastmakers, and Dreamweavers. In a place like this, the three did not mind an unseen presence watching their backs. It did not take long at all for the newcomers to spot a couple peacekeeper dragons, since two happened to be guarding the gate: the purple-colored, triceratops-horned Halvor with his metallic slab of a greathammer, and the quintessential tough guy gunnar, who flaunted a spiky black mohawk and proud green scales. Not every reptile in sight was a person, though; there were plenty of scaly beasts accompanying residents on their day-to-day activities, which could make telling who was and wasn’t sentient a difficult task.

Pretty much right away, Anais pulled a large leaf off a plant to fan herself with. “Whew…it’s just as hot as I remember. The one thing that hasn’t changed, I suppose.”

Once the trio talked their way in, they found dragons most everywhere, from refined artisans to sleepy dream-weavers. They also found a surprising number of moles, sometimes underfoot, and after nearly tripping over an especially shortsighted fellow Susie began to get annoyed. “What’s with all the moles? I thought this was a city of dragons.”

Anais seemed much more at ease as she hobbled onward, leading the group deeper into the city. “The moles built Warfang in honor of the dragons, who they revered,” she explained. “Actually, what you’re seeing isn’t the original Warfang. Back when…oh, look!” The young woman excitedly pointed out a crude wheel and a very bored-looking attendant by a nearby marketplace, in front of which a handful of dragons, cavemen, argonians, and moles either dozed or watched the wheel slowly turn. “The Wheel of Monotony. That thing spins for hours…I can’t believe it’s still around.”

Grimm emerged from the shadows, drawn by the smell of a particular market stall. “Omelettes, get your omelettes here!” a Tyrannian Chomby declared. “Fresh from the giant omelette out west! We got cheese, bacon, sausage, barbeque, mushroom? You want Ugga Melon? We got it! Omelettes, omelettes here!”

Realizing he was getting as distracted as the others, Grimm narrowed his scarlet eyes and moved on, sweeping in to appear suddenly by the others. ”The Consul,” he rasped, his voice low. He stared upward at the rotating fortress with its ghastly graven faces, very different from its sandstone surroundings. ”Surely sequestered within a seat of power such as that.”

Now recovered from the brief scare, Anais nodded. “I thought so too. This is R’s domain, and I’m sure he must depart from there. We just need to find out when and how.”

”I shall slip inside,” Grimm decided, and the next moment he was gone.

Susie put her hands on her hips. ”Guess that leaves us to find out what we can out here. And try to find that Kayna girl Primrose knows.”

“You two go ahead,” Anais told the robots. “I’ll find somewhere up high where I can keep an eye on the fortress from outside. Make sure R doesn’t fly the coop before we get a bead on him.” She nodded, her expression serious and determined. “Let’s move.”

Forbidden Kingdom - Ashwat Village

Setting: Cloudy Friday Afternoon
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (282/150) Level 11 Big Band (221/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1209

By the time Nadia finally sauntered through Esaka’s northern gate, aloof in the face of two watchful Aurumaton gatekeepers, the weather had begun to change. Since she crawled out of bed that morning the region had been overcast, blanketed by thick, morose, gray stratocumuli stifling and drizzly enough to convince many folks to stay snuggled up indoors. Now though, rays of sunlight sliced through the depressing cloud cover to shine down upon the rolling fields of golden grain to the north. It was a beautiful sight. Nadia was a city girl at heart, but after two whole days holed up in Esaka, some fresh air and wide-open space thrilled her with a sense of boundless adventure.

Of course, her mission this afternoon amounted to little more than assassination, but if anyone deserves to be knocked down a peg or two it was the Consuls. If the Seekers did manage to take down the Moebius member rumored to be on his way to Esaka, their campaign to save the worlds would be that much easier.

Admittedly, Nadia had no idea how she and the comrades she’d be meeting soon would accomplish that, but as far as she knew there were people on the case. Plus, the smarter and more responsible people on the team, like Big Band and Pit, could handle the particulars. In this case, Nadia didn’t mind playing the role of a gun that the others could point and shoot. Having originally planned to go solo until she won Mortal Kombat, the feral knew that she needed to do her part and get back into the others’ good graces. If luck was really on her side, the attitudes of Primrose and Roland represented the rest, and her mistake would be met with forgiveness–or at least, indifference. What happened, Nadia told herself, had been an accident. A brutal one, but an accident nonetheless.

Once she reached Ashwat Village, Nadia slowed her jog to a stroll and kept her eyes out, but didn’t see any other Seekers yet. Right now, she was alone. Not even Beowulf kept her company, since the wrestler had separated from her to see if he could take her advice and snag a useful spirit before his next match. As for Nadia, her fight against Taokaka and Bullet had actually been her ticket into Top 16, which meant no more fights today. And if she won her match tomorrow, a coveted Top 8 spot would be hers. She hadn’t quite memorized the bracket format yet, so she didn’t know how close that put her to the Grand Finals, but she was close. Close enough that she could already smell it.

…Or was that the scent of freshly baked bread?

Thanks to the improved weather, plenty of villagers were outside enjoying a late lunch, while the bakers and housewives who supplied such meals were already at work on bánh mì không baguettes for the evening. With wheat or rice flour fresh from Ashwat’s mills and the grains themselves harvested from fields mere hundreds of feet away from the settlement’s perimeter, visitors couldn’t eat any more locally than this. Nadia was still full from her consolatory kebabs, but she could still appreciate the aroma as she wandered around, waiting for other Seekers to show up.

She paused at the village center, the plus-shaped crossroads that made Ashwat a travel destination for anyone who was anyone in the Forbidden Kingdom. With a grin she remembered the yokai riot from two days prior…what had that pleasant woman called it? A Seethe? That one yokai who thought he could block her ‘wack-ass’ mixup still made her laugh. Her stunt had been a parlor trick back then, but since then she’d needed to put all that devilish trickiness (and more) into practice against the likes of Maya, Mira, Taokaka, and Bullet. And now that Maya’s power was hers, it would only get crazier from here.

A familiar heavy trudging caught the feral’s attention, causing her ears to swivel toward the south. When she turned, she laid eyes on the giant detective Big Band, who had already spotted her. Her first instinct was to disappear into the backdrop, but Nadia let out a sigh and braced herself instead. This was always going to happen sooner or later, so she might as well get it over with. Putting one hand in her pocket, she used her other to wave as Band approached.

“Afternoon,” the detective greeted her, looking her over. “Nice new duds you got there. That your idea of layin’ low? Or are you livin’ large on the money you stole?”

Here we go, Nadia thought. She would have rolled her eyes if Band didn’t have a point. “Hey, a girl’s gotta live a little,” she joked weakly. “Ehh…if only everyone at Banishing Flats got that chance.” Though her gaze remained shamefully pointed at the ground, she snuck a glance at Band. He raised an eyebrow at her but kept quiet, his incoming repartee pre-empted by Nadia’s admitted guilt. Heh. Though she was genuinely remorseful, and not the brightest banana in the bunch, the feral had enough emotional intelligence to tip the scales in her favor.

She continued. “I didn’t know who I was messin’ with, or the length’s he’d go to. That’s on me. But I’m gonna make up for it by doin’ my job and then some.” Nadia gave him a wry smile, wondering how many more Seekers she’d need to show contrition for. “I tracked Kazuya down this mornin’ and tried to take him out. Things didn’t go so hot…he knocked my block off with a single punch. Survived by fakin’ my death. I’d show you my scars to prove it, but…healin’ powers, and all that.”

“Tracked him down?” Band asked, moving aside as a villager walked past with a bushel under both arms. “How?”

Uh oh. Nadia’s slight fib had already backfired on her, as she hadn’t expected Band to focus on that part. “Uh…made a new friend. Wrestler by the name of Beowulf. He’s in Tekken, knows all the big players.”

“Uh huh.”

The feral tried to keep her ears from flattening as her tail twitched uneasily, but as always her smile held firm. “In fact, I think he might be a candidate to win for us, since Roland’s the only one left. Went ahead and freed him.”

Band didn’t reply for a moment. Then he gave a shrug. “Well, in my younger years I mighta been all ‘you reap what you sow’, but we’ve all done things we ain’t proud of. In the end, the fault lies with Kazuya, not you. The fact you’re here is all I need.”

With a long exhale, Nadia allowed the tension she’d been holding in to leave her body. She made a show of wiping sweat off her brow. “Whew. Purr-etty nice of you…you sure you’re a cop?”

The detective snorted. “I ain’t worn a badge in years.” He paused, his brow furrowing, then gave a wry smile. “Actually, with how things are ‘round here, I guess I ain’t ever worn one. Life’s a funny thing sometimes.”

Nadia gave a half-hearted chuckle, turning to scan Ashwat Village for any more Gold Team Seekers. “Hahaa, yeah…”

Frozen Highlands - Moon Mountain

Setting: Frigid Friday Afternoon
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (99/100) Level 8 Heismay (80/80)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1606

Flanked by his new companions, Heismay brandished his scythe and braced himself. He tried to throw together a battle plan to make the best of the cat brothers, but leadership was not his strong suit. He had no idea what the pair could do (if anything) and had very little experience ever thinking beyond himself in combat, always laser-focused on the head-to-head fight rather than the bigger picture. It involved a complete perspective shift, and right now, such a thing was totally beyond him. His mind raced and his heart pounded, galvanized into wild overdrive by the young voice he never thought he’d heard again, the cherished memory nearly erased by the ravages of time and alcoholism. How was this possible? It shouldn’t be. It must be some kind of trick. An insidious illusion, meant to disarm and deceive.

The shadows before him, however, seemed to be a very real threat.

Several bulled forward to attack at once, while others remained in the back, pitching hardened slumps of darkness that never seemed to end. They aimed cruel kicks at the young cats, though the brothers quickly proved more combat-capable than the average feline. Whopper dodged many the blows and thrown stones, then returned fire by hurling nails like tiny spears, small but sharp. Baconator lacked his littermate’s agility, but his clash slashes hurt a lot more than the nails, and thanks to the Bruise status inflicted by his Nip ability he could slowly turn fights in his favor as his damage output constantly ramped up.

Right now, though, Heismay wasn’t really focused on his charges. Instead he faced off against several Paripus shadows, unarmed but empowered by a savage rage. He couldn’t commit to any target for more than a second or two at a time, so his quick, glancing blows could not dispatch them. As time went on, however, he became increasingly convinced that he wasn’t doing any damage at. No matter how many times he slashed at the rioters, they just kept coming, the shadowy substance of their bodies none the worse for wear. This kept him on the backfoot, steadily pushed farther and farther away from the main throng, where his son’s cries for help were lost amidst angry shouts.

Beginning to panic, Heismay let out a snarl of helpless frustration. “Damn it, I need time to think,” he muttered. His mind raced to come up with a solution, and it landed on a technique he’d used back during the sandworm’s den, a form of practical magic that predated his discovery of Archetypes. Its flaw made it more useful against mindless beasts than intelligent opponents, but hopefully it would work here. “Secret Technique: Clone Art!” With a series of hand motions, the eugief summoned three illusory duplicates. When a Paripus lashed out at one, the clone instantly burst into light, which threw the attacker back, stunned. “Have at you!” Heismay launched forward with the other two doubles and slashed at the other three rioters. They reeled, giving the eugief the chance to push forward, and with a bullet jump Heismay surged into the crowd.

“Son!” The three Heismays pushed in with a whirlwind of bladed attacks, slowly cutting a route through the rancorous throng. “I’m coming! Where are you?”

“Dad, I’m over here!”

Heismay glared between the shadowy legs, but he saw no sign of the young eugief he sought. For a terrifying moment, he wondered if it was because he could no longer remember his son’s face…but no, even if that was the case, surely there had to be a spot of cream-colored fur somewhere. Somewhere! “...Where!?”

”Over here!”

That came from a different direction. With a growl, Heismay deflected a rioter’s grasping hand with the flat of his blade. Behind him, both of his leftover clones were gone, so Heismay leaped into the air to escape the enclosing crowd. From above he tried to get a better look at the situation while gliding. He saw nothing but a sea of shadowy figures. They were too tall, too boisterous, looming over his little boy, crushing him beneath their feet. Heismay gritted his teeth. He was running out of time.

“Just stay put!” The hermit summoned another batch of clones and descended, landing atop a rioter whose face he began to hammer with his scythe’s pommel. “I’m almost there!”

A pained yowl from behind made him jerk his head back toward the alcove’s entrance. Heismay watched, aghast, as Whopper landed near the cliffside path’s edge, his gray fur matted with blood. Baconator ran back to take up a defensive position in front of him, hissing as the dark figures closed in. They needed his help.

“Hold on,” Heismay called as he searched the area desperately for any sign of his son. “I need to- he must-!”

Groaning, Whopper began to hurl nails at his brother’s back, each one spurring Baconator to make an extra attack. With his attack speed roughly doubled, the scruffy cat beat the Paripus back with a flurry of blows, but the friendly fire damage piled up quickly. Their desperate strategy would last only a few seconds.

”Dad, it hurts! Please!”

Heismay’s shallow, ragged breath caught in his lungs. His son’s terrified voice sounded close, but the cats…they were going to die. Less than an hour after they’d chosen Heismay as their owner, and they were moments away from being destroyed by their guardian’s failures. Another dismal failure on the eugief’s part to weigh on his fractured conscience. A chill ran down his spine. For a moment, the muscles in his shoulders and arms went slack, his mouth hanging open as he perched precariously atop a stupefied shadow.

“...No more,” he growled after a moment. “Not this time.” He glanced at the leering Paripus around him, all slobbering grins and taunting words. Tears pooled in his eyes. Then he sprang forward, bouncing across the furry heads like stepping stones, until he landed in front of his cats.

“My son…is dead. Dead, you hear me? Dead!” He howled, tears streaming down his face. He seized his amulet with his off hand and held it aloft. “I carry him with me, here! Always! You have not taken him from me…and you’ll take nothing else!” Orange lines spread across his body before he transformed into the Assassin. “These youngs ones are still alive, and as long as I draw breath, I shall keep it that way!” He reached down and scooped his cats into one arm before shouldering his curved greatsword with the other. “We are leaving this place. This memory. Try and stop us, if you dare!”

Meanwhile, Sandalphon struggled to stand as her feline companion Saranwrap stood before her. Every joint ached with the grinding pain of the Petrification Disease, her frayed nerves alight with pain. The Staff of the Frost Atronach was sturdy enough to support her weight, but whether or not she could push herself upright after her fall was another story. Saranwrap glanced back at her, confused why her new partner wasn’t rising, until she realized that she needed to take action herself.

Cat Obtained

Saranwrap
Class: Cleric
Con++/Cha++/Dex-/Spd-
Active: Pray
Provide a minor heal to all units in an area
Passive: Heathens!
At the start of battle inflict Weakness on all foes for 30 seconds, decreasing all outgoing physical damage

Putting her paws together, Saranwrap meowed a quick prayer. A little light filled the area around Sandalphon, and she found her wounds restored somewhat, although the Petrification Disease within her remained unaffected. The assistance proved sufficient to allow her to stand up with her staff’s help, just in time to see one of the crippled archangel shadows to take a swing at Saranwrap from behind. The old cat yowled in surprise as she went tumbling, although the Weakness inflicted by her passive allowed her to withstand the blow.

“Little one!” Sandalphon stepped over the scruffy old beast defensively, shaking from cold and fear alike. Bit by bit the specters of her fallen kin dragged themselves closer, their agonized and accusatory voices even worse than their gruesomely broken bodies. With no other allies in sight somehow, the more human part of Sandalphon felt dangerously close to panic, but her original, more logical self fixated upon a fact that she couldn’t ignore, a truth as crushing as it was liberating: this wasn’t right.

Or rather, it wasn’t correct.

“Invalid,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

The shadows paused, as Sandalphon looked up, her pupil an inverted triangle. “This is illogical. Whatever it may be, whether trial, torture, or some attempt karmic justice, it is irrelevant. Mistaken. Fundamentally illegitimate.”

Sandalphon braced herself, breathing deep of the ice-cold air, and committed herself to the correct perspective. “I am not Sandalphon. I am but an instance. An iteration. These memories that confront me were implanted. I never did those things. I never knew these people. These are immutable facts. As such, I feel no complicity. No guilt. This cross is simply not mine to bear.” With a disdainful look she turned to hobble off, between two motionless phantoms, away from this perilous stone tower and back toward the upward mountainside path. Saranwrap trotted after her, still understandably nervous, but when the old cat looked back she saw nothing but shapeless shadow.

“This iteration of Sandalphon will terminate soon,” the archangel grumbled. The bitter cold seeped into her, yet her body held firm. Like stone. “But I need to get just a bit farther.”

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

To the new cat owners out there: here is the progression for your kitties. Starting with level 2, the order is:

• Level 2: Another Active
• Level 3: Another Passive
• Level 4: Active Upgrade
• Level 5: Passive Upgrade

And the order repeats with additional levels. Each cat can have 4 actives and 2 passives maximum. As a reminder, your cat gets a level upgrade per encounter (these encounters don't have to be the formal ones that reward bonus xp). However, if there is more than one cat in the encounter, the one that gets the upgrade is determined via two methods: whichever cat is lowest level, or if all cats are the same level, random chance.

Special note for all Mewgenics cats: instead of dying, they will be downed with a random stat-lowering injury. At that point, if they take three hits from ANYTHING while downed, they'll be permanently killed. Revival abilities will revive them, while an instance of healing will add an extra hit. If a cat ends a battle downed, it will not be eligible for a level up.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Frozen Highlands - Moon Mountain

Setting: Frigid Friday Noon
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (96/100) Level 7 Heismay (147/70)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1808

As much as everyone needed a break from the events of the Winterhold College labyrinth, a freezing high-altitude mountainside was not the place to do it, no matter how many pyro-infused monoliths or Red Antlers happened to litter the windblown ruins. Without their steadfast stagecoach, abandoned somewhere on the slopes below, there would be no refuge within this ill-omened place. The Seekers’ destination -and the end of their long trek through the inhospitable Frozen Highlands- loomed above them. Midnight Walk or not, the upward path was calling to them, and they could only put off their answer so long.

Even without the stagecoach that he had turned into the team’s mobile base, however, Edward was prepared to forge a path ahead. His implacable ironclad tank would plow through the drifts of snow and flatten the unseen hazards that promised to snag coats and sprain ankles. And if any minor threats poked their heads out just beyond the beaten path, the Seekers’ dreadnaught could count on his inventive new companion to wipe them off the face of Moon Mountain with a jury-rigged bomb. Edward might not receive his fair share of thanks, but Sandalphon knew that the team owed him a great deal for his hard work during this expedition, no doubt far more than they owed her. Any less helpful or solely combat-focused comrades who consigned themselves to merely being along for the ride could progress only because Edward allowed it. The archangel believes that the team’s lives and leadership could be safely entrusted to him, should it come to that.

As he prepared to set off again, his pack tightened and his new, unconventional weapon sharpened, Heismay was displeased to find that the gray-furred brother cats (whose collars, upon further inspection, identified them as Baconator and Whopper) would simply not leave him be. Relentless, dauntless, and shamelessly pushy, they chased him down wherever he retreated in order to rub up against him or attempt to climb him. He attempted to focus on the looted spirits, looking amongst them for a potential Striker. The Stargazer struck him as the most promising candidate, a more cosmic abomination to join the grotesque one he already wielded. Since neither Ace nor Heismay seemed interested, Heismay went ahead and spiritbound the thing, the Stargazer’s binding as unceremonious as its predecessor’s.

New Striker Spiritbound

Stargazer
A celestial emissary of excessive limbs and telescopic eyes, enraptured by the glorious cosmos. A formidable Striker with a relatively short cooldown, it can kick with many legs, strike with its telescopes, or charge up Astral Vision in order to blast and potentially confuse multiple targets

Over the course of a few minutes it eventually became clear that Heismay had little choice in the matter of whether or not these felines would accompany him on the treacherous road ahead. At the point where one of them managed to make it on top of his head, Heismay lost patience. He grabbed the young tom by his scruff, pulled him off, and sat him down in the snow next to his brother.

“That’s quite enough,” he told the two gruffly, crossing his wings. “As I told you already, you have no future with me. Are you both truly so eager to die on the long and dangerous journey that lies ahead?” He stared at the cats one after another, his expression severe. Baconator contorted himself to scratch his chin with one footpaw, while Whopper tilted his head in confusion and meowed. After a moment, Heismay let out a grunt of annoyance. “Tch. Fine, fine, very well. If you truly care so little for your safety, then do as you wish. Be warned, however, that I’ll brook no disobedience. In this company, you will be soldiers first and foremost. Am I understood?”

Whopper swatted at Baconator’s scruffy ear, and in a flash Baconator rounded on his brother to tackle him, sending both rolling through the snow.

Cats Obtained

Baconator
Class: Fighter
Str++/Spd+/Int-
Active: Nip
Inflict Bruise on a unit at melee range, increasing melee damage taken by 1 per stack
Passive: Hit Me
When hit by an ally, automatically performs a melee attack in the direction he’s facing. Damage taken by allies is reduced

Whopper
Class: Thief
Spd++++/Luck+/Str-/Con-
Active: Steal Luck
A weak melee attack. If this crits, siphon Luck from the target
Passive: Burgle
His basic attack gives him a coin whenever it deals damage

By the time that Heismay whipped the little hooligans into shape, the rest of the Seekers were ready to move out again. With only a disgruntled head shake at Ace, the eugief and his two new charges fell in with the others on the trail blazed by Edward’s ironclad as it began to rumble upward into the howling, wintry dark. Preferring a less bumpy ride that would agonize her half-petrified body less, Sandalphon rode atop a steed provided by Edward, her own newly-adopted cleric held close for warmth. Although it remained to be seen how effective the felines would be as battle companions, it reassured her to have more than ten combatants present for what promised to be the expedition’s final battle. The archangel struggled to conceive of how things could possibly continue to ramp up after Winterhold, but she imagined that she wouldn’t have to wait long to find out. At the very least, there still seemed to be some semblance of a navigable path leading higher up the mountain, rather than slippery slopes and sheer cliffs. Maybe, after everything they’d been through, the Midnight Walk still led the Seekers onward. Or maybe, as the Soulfisher once told Sectonia, they had lost their way along the Midnight Walk because they were meant to.

The Tale of The Dark Itself

Up, up, up they climbed. The wind whipped at their coats and capes, the unyielding stone fought against them, and the bitter cold seeped into their bones. Other than a handful of tough, mealy orange winterberries, the landscape yielded no solace. For Sectonia, this felt rather familiar, oddly reminiscent of the Sandswept Sky’s split mountain and Yellow Team’s grueling ascent. That particular climb, made all the more brutal by a powerful blizzard, had been so cruelly long and arduous that the peak seemed to leech the life itself from the Seekers’ bodies. Moon Mountain did not feel quite so impossible, but something strange about it seemed to turn the climbers’ thoughts back upon themselves, amplifying the doubts and fears that crawled and slithered around the edges of their minds, discreetly gnawing away at their strength. Maybe it was the abundance of shadowy recesses amongst the rocks from which dangers could spring–in which more than one traveler could swear they saw round, unblinking white eyes in their peripheral vision. Maybe it was the way that the stones were shaped, uncannily like faces, frozen in eternal torment. Maybe it was the way the wind died down, from a baleful roar to a mere whistle and whisper, so subtle that the sojourners might just be imagining it. Or maybe it was the way that the darkness closed in on them, making the backdrop beyond Moon Mountain fade away until there was nothing beyond the mountain but a pitch-black void.

Even the rumble and clamor of the ironclad tank eventually faded away. Heismay was dimly aware of it somewhere ahead of him as he continued to walk, his new charges trotting faithfully behind him, but he couldn’t see it anymore. Only the stone shards left behind by its heavy, crushing treads. At some point the person behind him -Blazermate- had fallen far enough behind him that she was nowhere to be seen when the Eugief glanced over his shoulder. Only after a little while spent traveling like this, with an occasional worried look out at the pitch-black void, did it seem to sink in for Heismay that this wasn’t normal.

Something was wrong. In the void beyond the mountain, something was moving. A gigantic, towering, indistinct figure whose nebulousness seemed a rare blessing. Heismay thought he saw enormous, squirming intestines, a glassy eye in its chest, and where its head should be…

”Dad!”

Heismay froze in his tracks, the eldritch giant forgotten as he whipped his head toward the path ahead. An instinctive reply died on his lips as his mouth hung open, suddenly dry. He wrenched off his hood so his long ears could unfurl in order to turn this way and that, trying to identify the sound’s source, but the faded echoes offered no clues.

After a moment, Heismay swallowed. “It can’t be,” he croaked as he checked on the cat brothers, suddenly very glad they were there. They were looking around, confused and alert, with their fur standing on end. “It can’t be…”

He stepped forward, past the corner of a protruding cliff, and made a bizarre discovery. In front of him lay a large alcove recessed into the mountainside, not quite a cave. It was home to a sort of town square, filled with a shadowy throng gathered before the gallows. A dark figure with furry, doglike ears and a tail, hung by the neck, and most of those in the crowd shared similar features. Angry voices, not quite distinguishable, cried out in rage. A handful of official-seeming figures with weapons, bearing either horns or very long, pointed ears, attempted to discourage the crowd from their prominent position atop the gallows platform. Within seconds, though, rioters began to hurl things their way, from rotten fruit and wads of paper to sticks and stones. Heismay’s eyes weren’t on the officials, though, but on the crowd. He hesitated at the edge, trying to peer between tenebrous legs and tails.

”Dad, where are you?”

“No!” Heismay’s heart was pounding. “This isn’t real! Tis some illusion!”

”Dad, I’m scared!”

“Damn it,” Heismay hissed. He looked down to find his cats, tensed up and ready for action. It would have to be enough. “You two, attend me!” He pushed into the shadowy throng. “I’m coming, son!”

Instantly, four members of the crowd rounded on him, throwing him back. They towered above him, all ears and tails and fangs. Heismay couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their voices were mocking. Thuggish. Dismissive.

“Bloody Paripus,” Heismay snarled, drawing his scythe. “Out of my way!”

Somewhere behind this scene, or perhaps ahead of it, Sandalphon fell to the hard, rocky floor with a cry of pain as a huge, taloned, obsidian-black foot crushed the head of her mount. With her pupil an empty circle, the archangel stared up at an immense draconic demon, faceless and horned. Around her, on a circular shelf extending out from the mountainside path, five archangels lay dying. Ramiel, Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael…their forms might be shrouded in darkness, but she could tell who they were. Their contours were unmistakable. As the great demon receded, the five broken, battered bodies began to crawl and drag themselves toward Sandalphon, reaching for her.

”You left us…you killed us…”

“Why did we have to die?”

“You shouldn’t have lived…”

Saranwrap hissed at the shadows as she stood before Sandalphon, her fluffy tail extended as far as it could go. Sandalphon tried to reach out to her cat, her voice pleading. “No…run…I’m dead anyway…save yourself…”

Voices of wrath and despair swelled around her as the archangel fought in vain to stand, her body wracked by agony. The darkness was closing in.

Face your failure.
Denial, resentment, ambition, obsession, cowardice.
If you have no failure to face, you will have to fight one of four difficult Confession bosses, controlled by me.
Overcome the darkness within, or be crushed by the mountain’s weight.