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Current Now running: World of Light: The Tale of the Dark Itself
5 mos ago
Forever and ever, amen
8 mos ago
Calling out from Scatman's world
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11 mos ago
Called into action - by threats that seem harmonized
1 yr ago
Tomorrow comes

Bio

Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.

Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.

Most Recent Posts

Okay, doing that sounds fine then. I'll look forward to what you come up with.
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

So, I wanna join, but question: Does my character's personality and goals have to be at least a bit fleshed out by the game they're from's narrative, or can I just use a player character which is basically the audience surrogate in the game they're from, and go from there?

Because, right now, all the characters in my mind that I wanna play as are:

Disney's Enchanted Journey's Princess of Gentlehaven,

and

Wizard101's "Young Wizard" and Pirate101's "Young Pirate".

It's okay if I can't, I'm just wondering! :)


Hey there, I'm glad you're interested, and I'd be happy to have you. Having a concrete personality at least is a must-have, although in the past we've had players assign create-a-characters personalities of their own, so that's an option. Our characters are not just mindless combat machines after all, we need to be able to play off one another and the elements we encounter in the world. I'm not too familiar with the games you mentioned, but keep in mind that any games with Disney characters that originate from a medium other than a game are off-limits. If those games have strictly original characters made by Disney's game division or whatever, that's fine.
Lewa


With the wind at his back, Lewa got the extra burst of speed he needed to land a solid blow on his buffeted foe. As it shattered the man’s poise and sent him flying backward into the foliage, that blast of compressed air made it clear -and in no uncertain terms- that despite his lack of experience, he wouldn’t be a pushover. Elated by the rush of satisfaction and renewed confidence, Lewa recovered and hoisted his axe up onto his shoulder in a heroic pose for the viewing pleasure of the stunned Raven Herald audience. Duels might not be his forte, but the toa of air knew how to leave an impression. Still, he didn’t plan to get too cocky. His opponent stirred at the base of tree trunk where he’d ended up, confirming that the fight wasn’t over just yet.

Though that concentrated airblast and the resulting arboreal impact hurt the man’s body, leaving a bevy of bruises and lacerations where his getup failed to negate or blunt the damage, it seemed to have hurt his pride even more. The blonde simmered like a pot seconds away from boiling over, a mixture of rage and disbelief accentuated with blood on his face. He wasn’t the only thing burning, though. While Lewa had noticed the strange energy dancing across his adversary’s weapon during the fight so far, he hadn’t thought anything of it. It was only natural that a warrior with elemental powers of some stripe would use them to strengthen his or her weapons. Igniting his flame-shaped blade was a favorite technique of Tahu’s for instance, and he used that blaze to great effect against rahi and bohrok alike.

As the man struggled to regain his feet, however, Lewa saw that strange energy not only engulf the weapon, but also spread over the Raven Herald’s flesh. Like wildfire racing through the scrubland where jungled Le-wahi bordered the volcanic wastes of Ta-wahi, threatening to rage out of control and consume everything in its wake if not stopped by the proper precautions. At the sight of it, Lewa couldn’t help but be concerned, even if his opponent didn’t seem to be. “Your weapon-tool,” he warned. “It’s light-burning you. Eating you.” Even as he spoke, he felt a sense of uselessness, fairly certain that his words were falling on deaf ears. His time around Tahu had taught him more than the ins and outs of combat; he’d also learned well his brother’s fiery temper and pride, a sharp contrast against his own more easygoing persona, not to mention the cold calculation of their brother Kopaku. He glanced around toward the uproar of the other fights. It seemed like things were going in his team’s favor. “You should retreat. No shame-regret in running to live another day.”

In the probably case that the man didn’t listen, though, Lewa hefted his hatchet. He flourished it once, then grasped it with both hands. If his foe wanted to stand there and smolder, the toa didn’t mind taking the initiative to put him out. The toa would whirl his axe around like he did before, then on the third swung unleash the same whirlwind that unseated the rider earlier to bear down on the Raven Heralds like a miniature hurricane. It probably wouldn’t do more than knock them down or toss them back, but hopefully it would convince them to flee.


Hey there! This November marks the fourth anniversary, and the beginning of the fifth year, of World of Light. Inspired by Smash Brothers Ultimate, it’s a massive video game crossover RP that tracks the efforts of our characters, the Seekers of Light, in their adventure across the world to destroy the thirteen bosses that stand between us, Galeem, and setting the worlds to right.

World of Light has been blessed with a cast of talented, hardworking, and committed players who’ve kept the story alive all this time, and though we’ve come a long way, we’re always open to fresh faces joining us on our journey. 160+ pages and 3200+ IC posts might seem intimidating, but World of Light is actually pretty easy to join. What can you look forward to after joining?

  • A diverse and memorable cast of characters from icons like Bowser, Pit, Geralt, Midna, and Ganondorf to hidden gems like Roland from Library of Ruina, Nocturne from Lamplighters’ League, Sandalphon from Dragalia Lost, and Blazermate from Medabots. With a cast like this, almost anything is possible, leading to all sorts of crazy and unique interactions. Not just old stories, but new beginnings, made possible by this messed-up world
  • We’re also not going anywhere; new RPs rise and fall, but World of Light stays the same
  • A decent degree of creative freedom. You can control and create to an extent in your week-to-week posts. I’m also always open to player ideas. Maybe you can take the lead for a bit!


But that’s only the beginning. What else have we got?







World of Light has such features as a Spirit Board that keeps track of all characters in the RP, a Known World section that covers the places we've been, a Timeline section (that I’m still working on…) and a world map that I'm including at the bottom of this post. All of these help offset everything that's happened and to make it easier for players to both get engaged and learn about the world. If any of this sounds interesting to you, I hope you’ll give us a chance--and fight alongside Bowser and the Koopa Troop, villains from Kirby, skilled Street Fighters, intrepid Octopath Travelers, healers, hunters and lovable rogues, knaves and knights and plucky youths taking on everything that Galeem and the Consuls have to throw at them.

Find a place for yourself in the World of Light!
https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/175703-world-of-light/ic
Have any questions? I’m all ears, so please feel free to ask

Sector 04, Veles - Neuron Helipad

Level 6 Goldlewis (95/60) Level 4 Sandalphon (60/40)
Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Blazermate, Roland, and Susie’s @Archmage MC, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man
Word Count: 2347


Though a talented fighter and a fine marksman, born and raised in the dangerous depths of Siracusa’s criminal underworld, Vigil could not boast a flawless strategy. Against serious opposition, his survival hinged upon one factor: his authority as the leader of the Wolfpack. So long as he had Wolf Shadows to block his opponents, keeping them hemmed in and soaking their attacks, he could stonewall just about anyone until his revolvers’ thunderous report sealed their fates. Against three opponents, however, his effectiveness dwindled, and Roland proved to be one hell of an adversary. Attacking with soulless efficiency, the Turk was a killing machine, steadily stacking the odds in his favor. It was only a matter of time until Vigil’s number came up.

As he sank to his knees, his mind and body withered by the uncanny cruelty behind Roland’s EGO pages, his revolvers slipped from his fingers. “Agh…” he groaned, his wolf ears drooping and his eyes dull. His fine suit had been ruined, shredded and soaked through with vital fluid. “I knew I’d never get the last laugh. But to go out like this…” He fell backward into a sitting position, trying and failing to hold himself up with his hands. With the last of their acuity, his eyes focused on the beacon of golden light amidst the darkness, unquenchable, indomitable. “I’m sorry, Lavi…”

Penance was holding out as best she could, but even the Judge had her limits. Her opponents figured out how to avoid the worst of Stoic Atonement with frustrating speed, and though the damage mounted on them bit by bit, they were figuring out other ways to abuse her skill’s limitations. Of course, no amount of attrition would matter as long as that accursed archangel stood unopposed in the backline. As she stood there, radiating waves of thorns, Penance glared at Sandalphon, who returned her gaze evenly. In a blink, that woman had undone everything that she and Vigil managed to achieve during the crucial first phase of the fight. Unfortunately, her side had neither the numbers or the means to deprive the opposition of their support, as much as that reality pained her. Even for her, this situation looked hopeless. If only she could surrender.

Her one saving grace was that Sandalphon seemed unable to unleash a miracle like that again for whatever reason, but even that didn’t mean that the Seekers wanted for healing. Instead, Geralt summoned a nightmarish arthropod monstrosity to shore him, Goldlewis, and Karin up instead. With the Judicator at their backs, the trio renewed their offense. Stoic Atonement might boost her defense, but Penance knew better than anyone that time wasn’t on her side.

Her focus was such that she didn’t notice what had befallen her comrade. The same couldn’t be said for Giovanna. Though she’d handed the reins to Roland after chipping in, she didn’t think he’d actually kill Vigil. She didn’t know him personally, or that much about him since he seemed to represent a side of her former boss’s life she wanted to distance herself from, but she knew that Vigil meant something to Penance. Maybe Roland didn’t know any other way. If she were in his shoes, she might have done the same. Giovanna turned her attention toward Penance just in time to see the Judge get taken down by Karin. Her brow furrowed, and she started to move. The rich girl didn’t seem as dispassionate as Roland by any means, but Gio wasn’t about to watch another life get frittered away. Especially that of an old friend. With Rei by her side, she moved fast, a streak of green lightning across the helipad. Karin would see her coming well enough not to get blindsided, and hopefully step out of the way as Giovanna slid to a stop, a friend heart shining in her palm. Penance was almost gone, her eyes unfocused, her stoic facade cracked just enough to let the despair seep through. Some part of her knew that she’d been controlled, forced to fight against her will, and just how deeply unfair that was. “Suas correntes,” Gio murmured, thrusting the heart into the Judge’s chest. “Estão quebradas.”

Meanwhile, things had taken a turn on the other side of the battle. Faced with the Consul’s vortex, Zenkichi was fighting for his life not to get sucked in. After bracing himself with his sword, he called upon Valjean to save him. Y did not flinch, instead standing his ground as the Persona took aim and then nailed him with One-shot Kill. The ethereal bullet struck him head-on, its damage throwing him off just enough to weaken his vortex’s pull. But only for a moment. The Consul centered his gaze on Zenkichi again, his eyes narrowed in anger at the injury that had been inflicted on him. “Give it up,” he snapped. “This is where you belong. It’s just a matter of time.” The vortex intensified, quickly threatening to wrench the greatsword from where it had been embedded into the helipad’s surface.

At the same time, Akira had been trying to deal with Blazermate. A charged shot from her Arrow Legion took out the sentry, but the medabot was the real problem. When she moved in to try and hit Akira with her projectile shield, however, she invited her own downfall. Unable to see -or even touch- the Legion, Blazermate was oblivious as Akira’s partner flew out and around her, encircling her with its astral chain. The minute it created a loop, Blazermate became ensnared, completely bound and chained to the floor. From there, Akira recalled her Legion and had it aim upward to bypass the forward-facing projectile shield with a rain of arrows from above.

With Blazermate incapacitated for the moment, Akira turned toward Zenkichi. “Shoot him!” the Consul commanded, and with narrowed eyes the woman in black took aim. From where she was fighting Hayato, Jena saw this happening, and she knew she had to act. Just as she and Hayato were about to clash, lance against gladius, she dematerialized her weapon to let Hayato overswing. As he gasped in surprise, she lunged forward and socked him in the gut, releasing the energy around her arm in a burst that knocked him away. “Mephisto, stop her!” she yelled to her subordinate.

“Got it.” Calmly taking aim, the marksman fired his crossbow, sinking its bolt into Akira’s shoulder. She cried out in pain as she stumbled forward from the bolt’s physical force–right into the path of the Consul’s vortex. Unable to stop herself in time, she flew off her feet and tumbled into the roiling purple core, instantly dissolving into purple particles that Y absorbed.

“Gah! Damn it!” Y snarled, cutting off the vortex as he turned toward the Reunion members. “Meddling whelp. I still had further use for her.” Then he vanished in a burst of energy, reappearing behind Mephisto so that he could spin up a new vortex at point-blank range.

“No!” Jena and Faust whipped around, but she was too late. They got a split-second glimpse at the blank look on Mephisto’s face before he disintegrated. Shocked, Faust staggered as if struck, then sank to his knees, a look of absolute horror on his face. When Consul turned the vortex on him, the young man didn’t even react, listlessly sliding across the ground toward the fate he’d already accepted. Jena, though, did not. She sprang forward and grabbed Faust by the limp wrist, manifesting a claw arm in order to sink her fingers into the ground for purchase, much like Zenkichi had done with her sword. “Damn you, Yoseph!” she yelled over the tumult. “You’ll pay for this!”

Rather than reply, Y turned to see the Seekers approaching with Goldlewis in the lead, and Blazermate about to break free. Roland, Susie, Giovanna, Karin, Geralt, and Sandalphon weren’t far behind, not to mention Penance, already back on the heroes’ side. “Hmph.” Those two made for poor pawns after all. Still, considering that he’d expected to be able to turn all of them against Reunion, they’d held on surprisingly long. Just not long enough. “Howard!” he barked.

Back on his feet, Hayato charged in, forced to obey despite the fate of his sister. Summoning his partner, he guided his Sword Legion’s blade with lethal precision to slice clean through Jena’s arm. “Aaargh!” she cried, suddenly flying toward Y’s vortex along with Faust. At the last second, she managed to find her footing and kick off the ground, jumping just high enough to overshoot the Consul and sail off to tumble across the helipad, a trail of purple-tinged blood in her wake.

With another grunt, Y cut off the vortex. “Stop them!” In reply, Hayato swapped in the fearsome Arm Legion. Almost invisible to the Seekers, it combined its arms into a cannon and fired a graviton mass into the incoming group. It detonated to create a miniature black hole, violently yanking all of them off their feet and into a cluster around the center. Only Giovanna was fast enough to outpace the blast, but as she and Rei closed in on Hayato and Y, the police officer donned his Arm Legion like a suit of armor. He dashed into Gio, counterhitting her with a shoulder bash, then unleashed a terrific barrage of punches. The beatdown ended a moment layer with a Sync Attack haymaker that sent her senseless body flying backward just as the graviton surge ended.

Goldlewis crawled out of the pile of heroes bruised and bloody, having been mashed against his allies over and over again for a few seconds straight, and them against him. Everyone had gotten roughed up, but Sandalphon had fared the worst, her low health and defense leaving her in dire straits. He wasn’t the only one trying to get up, though. On the opposite side of the Consul, Jena was staggering to her feet, clutching the stump of her arm, and she seemed to have Y’s attention. “There’s no choice,” she groaned, releasing her wound to reach into her jacket. Behind her, Faust lay where he’d fallen, unable to rise. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this…!” She withdrew her hand, now holding two vials of Blue Evolve.

Y crossed his arms. “Oh? Now this I’ve got to see.”

Jena slammed both vials at once. The effects were immediate, and violent. She fell to the ground, retching pink liquid and screaming. Then she thrashed backward, and her body erupted into a humming singularity. Around the spot, the helipad began to crack, the fractures quickly spreading across the whole area as large chunks began to rise into the air along with the singularity. After a moment the light collapsed in on itself, then burst into a supernova of pink light that illuminated the dark sky. All the floating chunks, including those the Seekers were on, were pushed back, and when the light finally died down they could see just what Jena had become.



A colossal, almost angelic being floated above Neuron HQ. It had a limbless body of silver, flanked by ten seraphic wings with feathers of pink light. A left hand a blazing fire floated beside it, paralleled by a right hand of freezing ice. In place of a head, it had a floating crown of silver spikes holding with pink threads the manacles that bound together the hands of the female torso seemingly imprisoned in the central body, where she thrashed uselessly against her bonds. Goldlewis witnessed all this from his precarious position atop one of the floating chunks, utterly gobsmacked by the otherworldly spectacle before him–and considering all he’d seen, that was saying something.

Only Y, standing tall atop some debris alongside a stunned Hayato, seemed able to muster up a few words. “It’s…beautiful.” So saying, he threw an almost envious glance the Seekers’ way, then promptly teleported away, leaving everyone else to deal with the mess that Jena had left behind.

Coughing, Sandalphon wiped blood from her lip, then struggled to her feet. She took a deep breath to steady herself, using her gunstaff to help support her weight. When she opened them, she beheld the gigantic monstrosity floating before her, larger than any demon she’d ever faced, save perhaps Satan himself. Finally she exhaled, casting Angelic Praise to heal everyone for half health, though nobody needed it as much as herself. “This has been an unfortunate turn of events,” she summarized. For a brief moment, she watched the being imprisoned within itself struggle fruitlessly. “Jena Anderson…I cannot even imagine a more inefficient route you could have taken. You have truly failed to communicate. So allow me to make this crystal clear.”

The archangel disappeared in a burst of radiant golden light, transforming into a sixteen-foot-tall deific being somewhere between angel and dragon. A warrior of white scales like porcelain, black scales like jet, feathered wings of solid light, and bladed tail. When she spoke, it was still Sandalphon’s voice that issued from her motionless mouth, albeit infused with an unmistakable sense of authority. Soothing. Calming. Strong. “Even though you won’t live to see it,” Heavenly Wings pronounced. “We will finish what you started.”

As if in response, Jena Apotheosis screamed, the elements raging around its huge hands as it prepared to cast firestorms and blizzards upon its challengers. The array of floating chunks around it leveled out, creating an archipelago in the sky, and a handful of Protolegions manifested around the islands. Goldlewis took a deep breath as he helped Gio up, shaking his head. She wasn’t fighting-fit, but at least she wouldn’t be tumbling off into empty space. “When we’re done here, I better have the best sleep of my whole damn life,” he groused, hefting his coffin. He glanced up at Sandalphon, then nodded at the others. “Let’s get this done.”



Beneath Shinra - Arahabaki

Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Sakura’s @Zoey Boey, Pit’s @Yankee, Luka


Once the Seekers left the Daycare behind and managed to slip into the ominous-looking elevator between patrols, they rode down in silence. With everything they’d just witnessed and heard in the veritable Pokemon factory that Dr. Colress administered, they had a lot to think about. They had a lot of time to think about it, too; the lift just kept going, smoothly sliding down its shaft for almost over a minute straight. It could have been going faster, sure, but the distance traveled wasn’t insignificant. Luka got the distinct impression that he and the others had chosen correctly, and were now headed into the very bowels of the great Shinra Building, ever-present and imperial in the lives of all Midgar’s citizens whether they lived above or below. This was supposed to be a simple operation: get in, plant a portal somewhere inconspicuous, and get out. But all this anticipation was making Luka anxious, not to mention the amount of mental fortitude it took to run afoul of such a colossal institution. The sooner this was over with, the better.

He also couldn’t help but wonder just how different the Seekers’ operation in Midgar would look if the Twilight Princess wasn’t around, or if she fell in battle. Even just for the mission of breaching Arahabaki, what would they possibly do without her portals? In the fight against the Septentrions Milla and Sasha, everyone had been just a step or two away from death at all times. He made a mental note to make sure that Midna stayed safe and sound for the duration.

Eventually, the elevator came to a stop. The terminal beeped, the doors swung open, and the Seekers beheld an Arahabaki like nothing they could have imagined.


Click for music


After all, Arahabaki wasn’t just a computer. It was a place. It took the form of a staggeringly vast underground chamber, hollowed out and then converted into one gigantic mechanical marvel. The cavern ‘floor’ appeared to be one immense modular circuit board, covered with an array of high-tech machinery that resembled a bed of spikes, constantly venting violet-tinted steam. That not only made the place rather hot, but also amassed into a thick enough fog that distant structures were obscured by the hazy atmosphere. The ‘buildings’ in this place were actually huge, blocky computer modules plugged into the circuit floor, all of them built over with a shell of pitted gray plastic, complete with fences, gates, and pylons styled after a Japanese shrine. In addition to normal bridges, the modules were connected by curved, segmented spans that more resembled huge conveyor belts. Not all the modules were connected though, and the one that the Seekers stepped out onto featured a warp pad instead. Scattered around were pillars and columns of solid rock, all of which supported either pipe systems full of coolant or pitons with bundles of woven red cables that linked up the various modules. It was a bizarre, highly artificial amalgam of modern technology and traditional aesthetic.

The sheer scale of the place elicited an awed gasp from Luka. “This is Arahabaki?” he breathed. “I’ve been to some strange places, but I’ve never set foot inside a huge computer before.”

As far as destinations went, one seemed obvious: the enormous pillar that occupied the center of the colossal chamber. But already he could see that getting through this place would be difficult. There were a lot of module platforms between here and there, and their various connections seemed to have security measures built in. Even from here, he could see security camera clusters near the teleport matrix. Luckily, all that would be a problem for the Seekers of tomorrow. All the team needed to do tonight was stick a portal somewhere, and there were plenty of ceremonial-looking pylons standing around this first module where one could be ferreted away.

The Under - Mercy Dreams

Level 13 Nadia (17/130)
The Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Artoria and Osvalds’ @Dark Cloud, Nocturne’s @Grimnir


Practically the instant that Nadia finished responding to the newly-arrived Ganondorf, none other than Bowser and his wacky family barged onto the scene. Mercy Dreams was a place where even a slight sound could echo, so the sheer amount of strident noise created by a demolished wall made the feral cringe and recoil into the dark reflexively. Of course, this was probably an overreaction; the Troop hadn’t exactly been subtle up to now, after all. From the sounds of combat and communication that filtered through these desolate halls all throughout her left-side infiltration, they’d been brawling with the prison’s guards since they first arrived. As much as Nadia favored the stealthy approach in a situation like this, she had to admit that getting the monsters’ attention was only really a problem if it was too much to handle, and so far they’d been alright. If Bowser and the others wanted to thin out the troublesome enemies here, more power to them, and if their diversion actually kept patrolling mind flayers off her back while she had talked to Minette, she probably owed them her gratitude. Their boisterousness did sort of diminish the eerie atmosphere of this place, but Nadia appreciated them cutting the tension. It helped chase away the chill that had been running down her spine ever since she first heard her friend’s voice.

Still, Nadia’s sharp ears swiveled this way and that to pick up sounds of shuffled footsteps and gurgling gullets in the shadows. The third layer wasn’t out of mind flayers just yet, and if the Troop wanted to tangle with the three or four that remained, the feral would happily leave them to it. She had other things to look into, and for that reason, she silently waited in the dark with Chucho until Kamek’s toady arrived, heralded by the soft whir of its propeller. After peering through the dark with its swirly spectacles, the diminutive reptile pressed a key into her waiting palm, then took off. As quietly as she could, Nadia examined the door of Minette’s cell. The bronze lock was badly damaged, and it quickly became obvious that her key would rather break than enter. With a long sigh, Nadia stood and got moving. Time to find a more promising door, preferably in a quieter part of the jail.

Reasoning that her tentacled attacker from earlier had probably been drawn off by the disturbance, she retraced her steps toward the staircase. Now that she’d reached the third layer by other means, she knew she could just break the mechanism, climb back up, and hope no creepy crawlies followed in her footsteps. A couple seconds before she arrived, though, she heard glass shatter on its own. Curious, Nadia arrived just in time to spot the familiar silhouette of Primrose suddenly turn and head off in the other direction, some kind of urgent purpose in her steps. They’d just missed one another. Rather than call out, the feral watched Primrose go until she was swallowed by the gloom. In the brief time they’d been together, Nadia had never seen her friend so uncharacteristically uneasy. Could an irresistible voice in the darkness be whispering to her, too? Nadia really hoped not. The chance of several Seekers meeting dear companions in this uncanny place were impossibly slim, and with luck like Ms. Fortune’s, she didn’t like those odds.

Nadia pitter-pattered back up the staircase to the second layer with haste, trying to get her mind off Minnette. She really did want it to really be Minette in that cell, even if it did imply she’d been suffering alone down here for who-knew-how long. But what if it wasn’t–what did that make the voice she’d heard, the memories she’d been reminded of? Was her mind playing tricks on her? Or was it something about this place? Or someone. The possibility of someone deceiving her like this made the feral smolder with anger. If this is someone’s idea of a prank, they’re in for a bad time, she reckoned, her lips curled and her teeth bared. Before she could work herself up too much, though, she came to a stop in a candle-lit corner of the second layer, where she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Don’t ever let ‘em get to ya, she told herself. Never let ‘em see you bleed. As long as she kept her head on straight and kept pushing forward, she would find the answer, and then she could get as mad as she needed to.

Nadia opened her eyes and took a good look around, listening carefully. She couldn’t see any more Spears of the Cathedra, nor their vicious attendants, and no ungainly, blood-drunk footsteps reached her ears either. The others had probably cleared them out, leaving the coast relatively clear for exploration. From here Nadia could see Sectonia on the far side of the second layer, in the vicinity of the room she’d seen before, the one with the chained chest. If the big bug would be checking that out, the catgirl might as well open a door of her own. She retrieved the bronze key she’d been given from its leather pouch on her belt, selected a door, and pushed in the key. It took a little rattling back and forth, but it fit, and after slowly turning it Nadia gingerly pushed open the cell. It swung inward with a faint creak, and she peered into a small, dingy, claustrophobic chamber almost but not completely bathed in darkness.

There was only one article of furniture within, a cot of aged wood with a bug-chewed, threadbare sheet stretched over it. On that cot lay a ragged bundle that, for a moment, Nadia struggled to identify. She could see gaunt limbs splayed out, little more than skin stretched over bone, clad in dirty rags. A huge amount of scraggly white hair, hopelessly matted and tangled with splinters of wood, bits of straw, and so forth. A spotted tail, draped limply over the edge of the sorry excuse for a bed. Strangest of all, though, were the eyes. Wide open, staring listlessly upward, and glowing with soft hues of yellow, purple, pink, and orange in a constant and ever-changing dance. They shimmered on the walls and roof of the cell like light from under rippling water. From the prisoner’s slack-jawed mouth issued incredibly faint, gasping breaths at irregular intervals. This person was alive.

Nadia narrowed her eyes, swallowed, and against her better judgment, crept forward. Chucho stayed back, whining softly. The closer she got, the more details she could make out. Though in such bad condition that she was scarcely recognizable, this was a woman. An ordinary person, minus the ears and tail that give her the appearance of a feral like Nadia herself. Pity overwhelmed her, followed by apprehension. It seemed like this poor woman was in some kind of trance. Well, now she was free! Whatever she could have done to be imprisoned here, it couldn’t possibly justify this kind of treatment. Nadia reached out her hand to gently grasp the inmate by the shoulder, planning to shake her awake.

The instant she made contact, the prisoner jerked violently, an awful scream tearing loose from her withered lips. With a shriek of terror Nadia leaped backward, falling onto the floor. The surreal lightshow had ended as the prisoner’s eyes slammed shut tears pouring down her cheeks. “WHERE’D THEY GO?” she howled, her voice filled with utter despair. “My husband!? My daughters!? Where am I!? Where are they!?” Panicking, Nadia scrambled to her feet in a desperate attempt to get out of the cell as fast as her legs could carry her. At the noise, the prisoner turned her tearstained fast Nadia’s way, cracking one eye open. “Where?” As Nadia looked over her shoulder, she could see the prisoner launching herself off the cot, a bundle of delirious rage with blazing red eyes and deadly claws that gleamed in the flickering candlelight. Her scream transformed into a bloodcurdling roar. “WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE!?”

A gigantic paw caught Nadia in the shoulder before she could even get out of the cell, its claws cutting deep into her skin as its manic strength threw her across the hallway to slam into the door on the opposite side. She struck it hard enough to dent the metal and slumped down, barely on her feet. Yet with all the adrenaline pumping in her veins, she barely felt the impact, instead lifting her head to fix her horrified eyes on the aperture before her. From the cell she’d opened surged a huge white tiger, a monstrous beast of pure, savage strength in a mindless frenzy. Her massive jaws stretched open, exposing a mouthful of giant fangs ready to devour the lesser cat piece by piece. “Oh god!” Turning, she burst away in a streak of lightning, crossing a couple dozen feet in instant with Charge. A ten claw-guillotine descended where she’d been a second prior, more than enough to slice her to ribbons. When Nadia rematerialized, she stumbled for a brief moment, then began to run.

She sprinted down the hallway with Chucho at her heels, the pounding beat of her heart and the heavy footfalls of the monster in her flattened ears as her pursuer began to pick up speed. While she’d given herself a solid head start, the feral knew she couldn’t win in a flat-out chance. She was fast, but not ‘giant raging tiger’ fast. Reaching into her belt, Nadia yanked out her bait launcher just a little too hastily. It slid from her grip and she snatched at it, once, twice, before the second attempt knocked it away to land on and scrape across the old stone bricks. “Dammit!” As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, Nadia ended up glancing to her right across Mercy Dreams’ central atrium. There was some sort of commotion on the opposite side of the second layer; tons of hideous little creatures had shown up as if from nowhere, making a racket as they spread out despite Sectonia’s attempt to contain them.

Someone was talking in her ear through the linkpearl, but the catgirl couldn’t even register who right now. With the tiger getting closer, Nadia focused forward, where she would have to contend with her first corner. After trying to take it too fast, she lost her footing, but salvaged her tumble with a Cat Slide, her hardened claws sparking against the floor as she tried to stop herself slamming into another cell door. Finally she found purchase and yanked herself off the ground, dodge rolling out of the tiger’s lunge just in time. Landing in a crouch, she turned and drew Athame in one smooth motion, then hurled the dagger at the beast’s exposed side as she tried to stop herself, too. “Knife knowin’ ya!” It was lucky enough to plunge into her haunch, but not nearly enough to stop her, and with a snarl the tiger sprang toward the fleeing feral.

By that point, the chase was reaching the pandemonium unleashed by Sectonia. Nadia found a handful of little red goons in her way, their short statures and disproportionate heads offset by their hideous skeletal grins and abundance of bladed weapons. A frontrunner among them had gotten ahead of the rest, and as it took an ineffectual swipe with its cleavers she somersaulted right over it. She landed and kept running without missing a beat, and in the midst of the chop goblin’s gibbering, the tiger swatted it from behind with such power that the poor thing turned to pulp the instant it smashed into the nearby wall. That stomach-churning sight from over her shoulder distracted Nadia enough that she barely swiveled her head forward in time to see the next chop goblin as it jumped right at her. “Hey!” She cut its leap short by jamming her clawed hand into its chest, then twisted around to throw the little snot at the tiger behind her. “Kiss your ass gob-bye!” Its new lease on life came to an abrupt end as the beast smushed it beneath its paw, barely breaking stride. Nadia’s feisty grin turned into a groan. “Well, crap. Fangs for nothin’!”

Two more chop goblins barred her way, and after filling her lungs she pumped blood into her arms to launch both hands like grappling hooks. “Here…!” She seized both gremlins by their big dumb heads, yanked them off their feet, and turned to hurl them at the tiger one after another. “Open wide!” Her pursuer carved the first one in half with her claws, a gold chopcoin popping out of its corpse, but the second bounced off her head and landed on her back, which it immediately started hacking into with its cleavers. Thanks to Galeem’s influence, the tiger spent just enough time ridding herself of the pest that Nadia could build up a little lead again. Of course, her path brought her right into the main mob of chop goblins outside the room with Sectonia, two of them toting the chest that even now spewed out a limitless supply of chop goblins. Thinking quickly, Nadia jumped and crowdsurfed across the angry mob, stepping from head to head. Just as she reached the center and leaped over the chest with a jump kick to the goblin currently popping out, the tiger reached the back of the crowd and started ripping through. With such a huge delay thanks to the little goobers, Nadia knew she needed to make a move, and a Great Idea came to mind at just the right time.

After pouring a lot of blood into her arms as she stepped across the rest of the crowd, the feral fired them both down the hallway, leaving a bloody trail in her wake. As the tiger smashed through the chop goblins, knocking the chest (as well as a few gobbies) over the railing and down to the third layer in the process, Nadia leaped onto the trail of blood and began to skate. Her rigging unfolded, the mechanical arms extending. She turned around, skating backward, and began to fire Hydro missiles. Of course, with her just above half health at this point, she could only fire two per cannon every three seconds, and after the tiger shrugged off the first salvos Nadia was left waiting. “Ohhhh no.” Her chaser was closing the distance, and each second felt like an eternity. Finally her cannons opened fire again, but even that wasn’t enough, and that wasn’t the half of it.

With a guttural yell, Nadia skated backward over the end of her arms’ blood trail and tripped, tumbling down the rest of the hall at high speed. “Oof! Ow! Agh! GAH!” A moment later she came to a stop on her stomach, her rigging arms in disarray, and her own scattered on the floor a ways in front of her. And the tiger was still coming, her speed lowered as if she sensed that the chase was over. Damn it, Nadia fumed silently, her pain evident on her face. This is what I get for never thinking things through. As the tiger closed in, tensing her muscles to pounce, Nadia -bereft of arms- arched her back, braced her head against the ground, gathered her legs beneath her, and pushed herself up into a kneeling position with her teeth gritted. She willed her blood to flow, to pour from her stumps and make new arms, weapons, copycats. Anything that could save her. Yet as more and more blood coagulated, nothing seemed to take shape beyond a large mass beside her. Though wary at first of whatever was happening, the tiger quickly lost her caution, and with a snarl she leaped forward to finish the job.

Only to be met by the rock-hard skull of the King Koopa midway.

Two monstrous heads collided with a terrific smack, and the tiger fell backward, landing on her side. The impact drove Athame deeper into her body, and she thrashed where she landed. Nadia’s eyes were on her savior, though, because it wasn’t actually Bowser–not really. Instead it was a Hydro Mimic, formed from her blood and the Oceanid’s power. As she watched, the mimic melted, its job done, and her blood flowed back into her body.



As Nadia’s heartbeat stabilized, she noticed that her arms had dragged themselves over toward her, and stood to collect them. Her rigging arms folded back into place, and once everything was in order, she made her way to her dying pursuer. Her strength failing, the tiger had turned back into a human, and she lay on the ground, tears streaming from her face. “Why…why…” she wept, her voice weak. “All those years…all those memories…was it really…all…just a-”

Inhaling sharply, Nadia finished her off with a quick kick to the head, breaking her neck. The prisoner’s body turned to ash instantly, like a sand castle lifted off the ground. At this point, a mercy kill really seemed like the best option. She crouched down to take back Athame, as well as the spirit. When she held it up, a vivid little light in the darkness, she couldn’t help but be amazed at the woman depicted within. Her face held no trace whatsoever of hunger, despair, suffering, or regret. Only a playful, almost mischievous smile, both on her face and in her sapphire-blue eyes. Her hair was a silky, luxurious white, lovingly cared for, and her clothes were fine. The spirit didn’t allow Nadia to see much more than the woman’s head, but the spirit and the prisoner it had belonged to were night and day. “Wow…she was beautiful,” she breathed, glancing down at the meager ashes. “What the hell happened?”

Then, before she could second-guess herself, she jammed the spirit into her chest.



Only after the rainbow light died did Nadia realize just how noticeable that must have been in the darkness of Mercy Dreams, especially with chop goblins on the loose, but for the moment nothing leaped out to get her. After the tense moment passed, Chucho nuzzled up against her, and with a delighted squeal she squeezed him in a big hug. “Awwww! Whew, I needed that!”

She did feel rather different, and quickly made her way over to the nearest candelabra for a little light. “Goodness,” she whispered, astounded by the length and magnificence of her hair as she stroked it. Her outfit had changed a lot too, becoming a bit less punk and a bit more proper, although the sight of stockings made her balk. “Well, pff. This’ll just get in the way.” Sharpening her claws through her gloves, she quickly shredded the bothersome stockings, leaving her legs mostly bare except for her shoes and skirt. She thought about cutting her locks back down to size as well, but decided against it. It’d be a shame to destroy such gorgeous hair, after all. Holding one finger to her mouth, she couldn’t help but smile slyly. “Not bad at all. Although..I am starting to get a bit pale. Gonna have to be more selective.” Her ears turned at the sound of combat. Chucho barked, with a wry chuckle she realized she’d gotten way off track. “Yeah, you’re right. Enough goofing around. Time to get to the bottom of this awful place.” She flipped her hair and took off running.
Gruyere Emmentaler Caerphilly Yarg


Gru was pleased to hear his client’s assent to his suggestion. ‘Quality and integrity’ were exactly the virtues Gru intended to cultivate, and he enjoyed hearing them recognized. Someone else might have balked at the idea of just handing a valuable item over to someone else (let alone someone like Gru) for safekeeping at the drop of a hat, but Knossos didn’t let any petty suspicions or compunctions get in the way of an arrangement that best suited everybody. When there were deals to be struck, there wasn’t any use beating around the bush, and the Dreamwalker knew it. When it came to business, there were few things more valuable than trust; that was something money couldn’t. He was right to place his in Gru.

In fact, Knossos seemed to be in such good spirits that he proceeded to invite the cheesemonger to an impromptu wine tasting. A curious smile spread across his cheeks, his eyes instinctively narrowed. This kind of cordial gesture very seldom graced Gru’s doorstep–even ’once in a blue moon’ might be too generous a turn of phrase. The cheesemonger didn’t particularly relish socializing, nor did he prize the Dreamwalker’s friendship as much as his coinpurse, but friendship wasn’t the only reason to drink with someone. In the business world, he knew, such activities often heralded or celebrated a significant deal or partnership. One wheel of cheese didn’t make for a magnificent exchange, necessarily, but it was something. Besides, sampling wine sounded like a gentlemanly thing to do, and Gru did so enjoy affecting such a persona.

After a moment Knossos went to make his way elsewhere, but he didn’t leave without a parting comment about the alcohol. If he looked back while leaving, the Dreamwalker might have been surprised to see a look of muted indignation on Gru’s face. Did I not give my word that I wouldn’t siphon off much as a drop of wine? I said I wouldn’t have it, so I won’t have it. Gruyere Emmentaler Caerphilly Yarg wasn’t a man who probed for favors beneath a veil of honeyed words. He made guarantees. My word is my bond. Does he think I’m not good enough to keep it? That I’m some boozehound angling for a tipple? Or does he hope to wheedle a better deal out of me once I’m in my cups? Well, forget that. For evening drinks, tea would serve just as well. A scholarly gentleman preferred tea anyway, to stimulate the mind. If there were any leftovers, they belonged wholly to Knossos, and he could do with them whatever he pleased. Spill it in the mud, for all I care! Of course, Gru didn’t dare speak aloud any of these thoughts. The bargain hadn’t yet been struck, after all. Until the cold, timeless, indefatigable weight of coin greased his palm, his lips were sealed. “...Good day, Mr. Dreamwalker.”

Once Knossos left, Gru could attend to other matters. As much as he wanted to get started on his new project straight away, the stuff he’d told Knossos had been no exaggeration. His whole operation hinged on fresh ingredients. Time loved cheese, but it hated milk with a passion, and his nose could detect spoiled product a mile away. He rose to his feet and began to pace along the roof of his wagon, one hand at his chin as he grappled with the current situation, the other closed around a rat whose fuzzy head he stroked with his thumb. In any other situation, he would’ve been happy to leave the Caravan behind and forge ahead until he found civilization. He had the means and provisions after all, not to mention ample recourse should he need to defend himself. Perhaps the others might even appreciate his work as a scout. But in the Emerald Forest, that possibility seemed woefully slim. This trail was narrow, and even if he and his rats could navigate the Chuck Wagon around all the other Pilgrims and their carriages, they were liable to get stuck in the tangled margins. I need to get closer to the front, he groaned internally, making a mental note. Plus, he got the distinct impression that the Emerald Forest wasn’t somewhere someone wanted to be alone in. Technically he’d never really be alone so long as he had his rats, but ‘safety in numbers’ was an axiom for a reason. Maybe the only reason why the Caravan hadn’t already succumbed to this accursed place’s attrition.

“Aha!” A few moments later, Gru extended one finger into the air, and the rat in his fist climbed out onto his knuckles as if to see what the fuss was. “If it’s for milk, I may not have to travel as far as I thought,” he explained to her. She just peered at him with round black eyes, the perfect audience. “They may not be as lovely as my darlings, but there are other beasts within the Caravan itself. And not just horses, oh no.” He picked up the pace, turning his gaze rather afield as he searched the stalled convoy. Surely someone had an animal whose milk would make good cheese. A cow would be best, since their milk is the most versatile, well-liked, and mild, but he’d happily accept a goat. A sheep. He’d even take a camel, if there happened to be any sojourners from the great deserts nowadays. Then again, making cheese with camel milk was supposed to be impossible due to its resistance to bovine rennet. No amount of magic could make cheese if he couldn’t create curds to begin with. It didn't matter though, since for all his searching, he couldn’t see any camels. Or sheep for that matter. Or goats, much less cows. Only…

…A yak.

His eyes had been drawn by the commotion of two women attempting to disentangle a cart from some roots or briars. No doubt the fate of my own wagon if I didn’t think things through, he mused. At first the sight of the great shaggy beast filled Gru with hope, but after he’d set his sights on it, another glance at the women jogged his memory, and the realization made his excitement shrivel up like a squeezed grape. He’d met Lynn only briefly, not even long enough to really internalize her name, but he’d received a frosty reception. She did not like the look of him, which he didn’t appreciate, and she did not like his rats, which he disliked quite a lot, actually. No doubt as a result of some past trauma, she’d clearly resolved to never trust or depend on someone again, and cling tight to the one thing that mattered the most to her. Gru could picture the poor woman turning up her nose at the ratty cheesemonger, convinced he’d come to take the food from her son’s very mouth, and lay a protective arm across her son’s shoulders. Keep your ill-gotten gold, she’d declare, every inch the heroic pauper telling off the rich, encroaching scumbag. I’ve got everything I need right here. It almost made him sick. Was he really that bad, that every interaction with someone involved getting over a massive, built-in hurdle? People might spit on rats as filthy vermin, but if treated well they were actually quite clean, intelligent, and affectionate. Curling his lip, Gru turned away and stalked back toward the front of the Chuck Wagon. Not everyone could see the true value in things.

“Mr. Yarg? Hello?”

Taken by surprise, Gru looked down to discover a small crowd by his wagon. They all looked tired, torn up, haunted. The lost souls. Swallowing, he carefully added his rat back to his collar and approached the edge of the roof, where he stood with his hands in his pockets. “What business have you with Mr. Yarg?”

One of them stepped forward. “We’ve been lost, hungry for days. They told us you would give us food.”

Gru did not bother to hide his grimace as his eyes widened. Of course they would. Two, four, six, seven hungry mouths to feed. Some looked pleading. Others expectant. They’d been starved enough before someone raised their hopes, and now they were famished. Desperate people were always apt to do something unwise, making for high risk, but suitably high reward. Hopefully their situation would make them inclined to think with their stomachs rather than their minds–or their fists, for that matter.

“I see,” Gru said, seating himself on the edge of his wagon’s roof. At the negotiating table, whoever looked down upon the other had a distinct advantage. “Well, this isn’t a charity, you understand. But given the circumstances, I think you’ll find my terms more than reasonable.” With a smirk the cheesemonger doffed his top hat, revealing Pepper beneath it, who doffed her tiny hat in kind. “Gruyere Emmentaler Caerphilly Yarg, at your service.”
Lewa


Lewa had very little experience fighting humanoid opponents, much less ones possessing martial skill. When his adversary shifted his stance and his grip on his polearm, the Toa of Air read it as a preparatory move for a strong technique that he needed to stop in its tracks. Accordingly, he put his substantial weight into a strong two-handed axe chop, hoping that even if he didn’t connect with his opponent’s body, the heavy blow would at least hack apart his weapon’s shaft. After all, he’d noticed that this glaive, unlike solid protodermis toa tools, incorporated a length of wood into its design. And what were axes for, if not chopping wood?

Needless to say, things didn't go how he planned. His enemy caught him mid-swing, intercepting and deflecting his weapon. Even if it wasn’t a battle axe, a hatchet in motion had a lot of momentum, and to the braggart’s credit he possessed the skill to turn that inertia against its wielder. Lewa suddenly found himself exposed, fast enough that he was left wondering what just happened, and before he could come to any conclusions the Raven Herald delivered a counterattack. The polearm’s glinting head thrust into the thick, rubbery cable mesh around Lewa’s neck, getting about an inch in before the material’s resistance and it stuck against of the metal with the armor around Lewa’s collarbone. Just as quickly as he stabbed it forward the man withdrew his weapon to prevent entanglements, and as he did Lewa jumped back, spurred to action by the pain.

The toa winced, suddenly worried. His enemy, knowing that his weapon probably couldn’t pierce (and might actually break against) solid metal armor, had aimed for his heartlight. It was a small and high target to hit, but the fact that he’d gotten so close was a cause for alarm. This man’s attitude wasn’t just empty egomania; he had the skill to back it up. Lewa knew he couldn’t fall prey to strategies like that again. He needed to leverage his own talents in turn.

Lewa changed his grip, releasing his axe with his left hand and sliding the right further up toward the head for better control. With how long his foe’s polearm was, a little extra range for the axe wouldn’t make any difference. That also opened up his hand for air manipulation. After whirling his left to whip up the wind, Lewa thrust his palm outward to summon an air current that blew from behind him, plowing into his opponent -as well as the lackeys behind him- head-on. That resistance would make it harder for him to move forward, orient his glaive, and attack. It also tugged at his fancy cape, increasing the chance that it wrapped or tangled, and even made it harder to hear as the wind roared in his ears. At the end of the day it was just a stiff breeze, but all the little disadvantages it imposed would add up, even if the Raven Herald’s pride convinced him it was nothing to worry about.

This tailwind offered one other boon for Lewa: it would speed him on his way when he moved forward. For a moment he remained on defense, compressing air into an orb in his off hand. If his adversary thought this was to sustain the wind, he would be surely mistaken. Then Lewa burst forward, much faster than a ‘golem’ of his size should be able to, and as he closed the distance he brought his off-hand forward to unleash an explosive blast of air from just outside melee range. Depending on how that went, he might then follow up with a one-handed axe swing, ideally at his enemy’s weapon itself.
Sector 04, Veles - Neuron Helipad

Level 6 Goldlewis (92/60) Level 4 Sandalphon (57/40)
Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Blazermate, Roland, and Susie’s @Archmage MC, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man
Word Count: 2013


When Consul Y ended negotiations by seizing control of all gleaming fighters present, it became clear that the time for talking was over. That suited Jena just fine; she’d heard enough out of her old nemesis already, and wasn’t in the mood to listen, whether to him or Blazermate. As the fight began, she sprang forward and barreled toward Y, leaving Mephisto and Faust to take supportive rolls. In response, the Howard twins leapt to the Consul’s defense. Akira’s Arrow Legion, outfitted with black armor just like its legionis and sporting a bright red core, unleashed a flurry of projectiles from its dual bow-arms. Jena put up her arm as she ran in, manifesting a chimeric shield wreathed in purple to soak the bolts until her own archer got Akira’s attention with a crossbow bolt that knocked her flat on her back. As the Arrow Legion turned to help Akira up, Hayato moved to clash with Jena in his sister’s place.

He threw himself into Jena’s shield with a flying kick, then cartwheeled backward away from her retaliatory slash. His Sword Legion rushed in with a double slash that drew blood, putting Jena on the defensive as she blocked slice after slice with her lance. When the Sword Legion performed a hurricane slash, she went low and pierced the ground, creating a purple rupture. The next second a spike of astral matter burst upward to hit the Legion from below, launching it into the air. Jena smashed through the crystal shield-first and into Hayato, knocking him back, but when she brought her lance forward in a thrust Hayato capitalized on the split second he had. He dismissed and then instantly recalled his Sword Legion in front of him, executing a Perfect Summon that threw Jena off and left her wide open. There was a blue flash, and he followed up with a Sync Attack, sending his Legion across the ground splayed out like a starfish and spinning to grind into his enemy from below.

Jena’s teammates moved to help her, so Akira went to back up her brother, too. At that moment, though, the sight of missiles coming in from Susie got Y’s attention. “Here!” Akira wheeled around to help, taking aim with her blaster alongside her Arrow Legion to mow the missiles down with a barrage of laser bolts. From there she stood ready to continue defending the Consul.

At the same time, the party had really gotten started for the Seekers. As Sandalphon stumbled toward Penance, Roland acted fast to save the archangel by intercepting the Judge’s follow-up attack. Blades metal flail in a furious clash of metal, pushing both apart. The trade powered Roland up, but with more foes on the way, Penance acted fast. In the moment that Zenkichi used Valjean to bolster Sandalphon’s defense, the Judge unleashed Last Word. Her empowered flail smash didn’t just hammer Roland for 200% damage, but also stunned him for five whole seconds, leaving her free to trade blows with the Witcher. Shielded by Guardian of the Law and Quen respectively, she and Geralt whaled on one another’s barriers, but Penance had one trick up her sleeve that her opponent didn’t. Whenever he struck her Arts barrier, it reacted with a burst of thorny lashes to deliver an attack equal to half a swing from her flail in damage. Her barrier also boasted much greater durability, more than half her own max health in fact, so Quen was gone long before Geralt could take Penance’s shield. Despite his greater stopping power and his efforts to mitigate the blows from her swings, he found himself losing the war of attrition. That was where Karin lent him a hand with her martial prowess, joining in to whittle down Penance’s barrier and distribute the recoil from Wreathed in Thorns. Together they destroyed her shield, putting the Judge on the back foot–until she spent a chunk of SP on Trial of Thorns. A new spiky golden barrier flailed to life around her, this one worth 130% of her max health, and reinstating Wreathed in Thorns. It also boosted her rather low attack by 400%, her attack speed by a little bit, and her inherent threat, turning the Judge from a thorny roadblock to terrifying powerhouse.

Vigil proved no less formidable. The minute Susie got him off Goldlewis’ case, he rounded on her with guns blazing. Still not used to her personal shield, she brought up the arms of her Business Suit to protect herself when Vigil shot at her head, and in the brief moment that bought him Vigil activated Leader of the Wolfpack. Two Wolf Shadows appeared on Susie’s position to Block her, both striking in quick succession every second or so. Their bites might be weak, but Susie couldn’t effectively reposition or attack anything else while Blocked, and that wasn’t all. Thanks to Vigil’s Wolven Nature, both him and his Wolf Shadows penetrated a huge amount of defense for anyone his Wolfpack blocked, and every thirty seconds a new Wolf Shadow would appear–even if there weren’t any left. By the time Roland recovered from his stun and came over to help Susie, both Vigil and Akira were ventilating her Business Suit without a care in the world.

Thanks to her allies, Blazermate in particular, Sandalphon managed to recover her gunstaff, which she accepted with a curt nod. If the archangel was mollified by getting disarmed, tugged around, and almost pancaked by Penance, she hid her indignity well. She escaped from the fighting unscathed and took a quick look around, clearing her throat. Penance seemed to be weathering the assault of both Karin and Geralt at the same time, which was no easy feat. Having used only his revolvers until now, Vigil had torn open his bag of tricks in order to shoot up Susie and Roland. On the other side of the brawl, Hayato was holding off all three Reunion fighters at once, while Akira was shooting from a defensive position near the Consul. Everyone needed a hand, and out of everyone present, only Sandalphon could actually help them all.

“Angelic Wings,” she proclaimed, lifting up her staff. Angular streaks of radiant blue light surrounded her, emanating from her staff and encircling the ground around her like embroidered threads. Four curved screens appeared around her, spinning in a ring, before launching outward in a divine pulse. Geralt, Karin, Susie, Roland, Giovanna, and Goldlewis all received a massive heal for over 100% of their max health, fully restoring them all. With Sandalphon in Concentration protocol, her powerful skill did not provide her teammates any extra benefit, but it charged her a certain resource of her own by a third.

That boost was just what Goldlewis and Giovanna needed to get back into the fight. Given the sheer threat exuded by Penance, the veteran understood that his team couldn’t make progress as long as she still stood. “Sorry ma’am,” he rumbled, running toward the melee. “But you gotta go!” He jumped, then burst forward with an airdash to land on Penance with a barrage of alien swipes. Pushing through the pain from Wreathed in Thorns, he canceled that into a downward Behemoth Typhoon that caused a ground bounce that an ally could follow up on. Penance rose quickly, and after landing Goldlewis joined Geralt and Karin in their assault, three on one. If the Witcher wanted to prove he wasn’t a liability to those around him, this was his chance. Together they finally began to overwhelm the stalwart defender. Two enemies Penance could withstand, but three was pushing it, especially with opponents of this caliber. That left no other options. The Judge reeled in her flail, then held her book high, surrounding herself in the golden light of Stoic Atonement. Protected by 60% damage reduction, she began to emanate ripples of thorns around her, each one dealing magic damage to any opponent they hit on the ground.

“Gah!” Goldlewis spat, recoiling from the painful wave of briars that bit into his legs like bestial fangs. When another wave rolled out the next moment, cutting into both his pants and the flesh beneath them, he grit his teeth. “We’re in trouble!” Taking a gamble, he performed a shorthop over the next wave and landed with another Behemoth Typhoon that struck Penance head on. Her poise withstood it, steeled by superhuman endurance, but she did flinch beneath the blow, a look of strain on her face. “But not helpless!” If they stood and fought normally Stoic Atonement might very well be a death sentence, but he’d found a way around it, risky though it was. The fight had become a dangerous game, and for the next twenty seconds or so, it was up to him, Geralt, and Karin to overturn the Judge’s ruling.

At the same time, Giovanna dashed in to help Susie and Roland against Vigil. Once the Turk got Urging and made it clear he wouldn’t just be eating bullets for breakfast, the well-dressed gunslinger sent his Wolfpack after Roland instead. From there had been able to flee from both foes consistently, keeping them at bay with his trusty revolvers. When he used Packleader’s Gift, his Wolf Shadows gained one instance of boosted damage plus lifesteal, and Packleader’s Dignity gave them three attacks for the price of one. But the secret agent’s sudden arrival threw a wrench in the works. “Need a hand, Roland?” With Rei at her back, Giovanna darted into the fight with blistering speed and took Vigil by surprise with Trovão. The flying kick knocked him down, and as he rolled to his feet he knew he couldn’t afford to let his foes pin him down.

“Sic ‘em!” He growled, using Packleader’s Call. A new Wolf Shadow manifested and lunged toward Giovanna, a streak of gnashing black.

The secret agent hunkered down to block, putting her under duress as she sustained chip damage from both blazing guns and flashing fangs. When Susie got Vigil’s attention, Gio took her turn back with a spectacular high kick that struck the Wolf Shadow below the jaw, and as it flew into the air Rei gave it a taste of its own medicine with a lunge of her own. The two ethereal wolves fought savagely, thrashing in the air and rolling on the ground, at times little more than green lightning and pitch-black fury. Giovanna broke off from her spirit animal and closed in to help Roland with Vigil himself. She slid in with a knee thrust, then combo’d with a punch into Sepultura, kicking with her leg in lieu of Rei. From there, it was up to Roland. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Meanwhile, Zenkichi had reached the other side of the fight. Having left Susie to Vigil, Akira had brought her Arrow Legion close to let loose well-aimed charged shots at Blazermate, forcing the Medabot to stop summoning ghosts and start spending her Projectile Shield. Hayato still fought Jena, his entire arsenal of legions brought to bear against Reunion’s leader, but Mephisto’s shots kept interrupting him, and Faust happily healed whatever damage the legionis did to Jena with a tap of his cane. Neither Jena nor Mephisto would let him go after Faust, either. That meant that for a brief moment, Zenkichi and the Consul were face to face.

Y turned toward him, his sneer imperceptible beneath his helmet but imparting a scoff to his voice. “It’s true, you’re quite unmanageable.” Y held up his hands to his chest, one curved above his purple core and the other below. “Fortunately, I have other uses for you.” Suddenly the core started to glow, and around it appeared a conical purple vortex of pure sucking power, as big as Y himself. With fearsome strength, the vortex began to pull Zenkichi in.

Suoh - Shinra Building Gate

Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Sakura’s @Zoey Boey, Pit’s @Yankee, Luka


Despite his very useful power, Luka was no less tense than his allied Seekers when it came to the task set for him, and he wasn’t about to take it any less seriously. For a few more moments he continued to scope out the security checkpoint, trying to get a feel for which guards were patrolling and where, as well as checking and rechecking the cameras, turrets, and spotlights in the fading light. On a clear day the sunset would’ve illuminated the scene well enough, but today the stormy skies offered only a dying flicker of dusky orange over the western mountains, and an infiltration under the cover of night meant that nobody could bumble around. Neither could he afford to make any mistakes and compromise his team, which included overuse of his power. Teleportation wasn’t a common ability after all, and with the OSF soldiers stationed here, it was by no means impossible that one might recognize him just from the sound of his power going off.

Luckily, being little had its advantages. Small and fast, Luka could hide in places the others couldn’t, and his dark attire -especially with his good up- helped him blend into the plentiful shadows. He couldn’t literally fade into them like Midna could, making recklessness her only real risk, but he wasn’t that far behind. Luka even went as far as to temporarily disconnect from SAS, which caused the orange Vision cables that ran across his outfit to fade away. Alternating between bursts of speed and stretches of patient waiting, Luka made his way through the area with a couple close calls, but no incidents. That brought him close to the front gate, where he lingered, considering how to get through this final stretch and make it inside. There weren’t any entrances with low activity, since those were closed. From his hiding spot he spotted Pit entering a vent, and gave a nod of approval. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t get up there without teleporting, and if anyone looked up at the sound he’d be a sitting duck.

After a few more seconds, he noticed a patrol that would pass within inches of him in about thirty seconds. Luka took a deep breath; it was now or never. Going with the best idea he had, he borrowed Yuito’s Psychokinesis to levitate a bit of debris and throw it against the wall. The noise got the attention of one of the two sentries by his chosen entrance, who shared a glance with her partner and then sauntered over to look. Poking his head out from behind the wastebin, Luka waited until the remaining sentry looked away, then teleported. As long as he had line of sight and could confirm an arrival point, the distance didn’t matter, after all. He warped through the open door and to the far side of the foyer.

In truth it was more of a garage mixed with a warehouse, loaded with various materials, vehicles, and military hardware. Possibly the Sector 05 muster station for Public Security, or a parking garage for Shinra Power Company employees. Without missing a beat he ducked between a couple vehicles. In here, there were plenty of spots to hide and no patrols, just workers not paying too much attention, so as long as he kept a low profile there wouldn’t be much trouble. As it happened, a low profile was the only one he had.

A couple minutes later, the Seekers gathered together. Tense as the infiltration had been, they’d made it inside, so now it was time to go deeper. Hastened by the threat of discovery at any time, they moved from the station to the transport hub just beyond it. A number of routes seemed to lead to various destinations from this room, including two sets of stairs up to a secondary security checkpoint for the Shinra Building itself, a downward staircase between them that led to a large and ominous-looking lift, and a few other doors. A contingent of soldiers was just heading toward a stairwell marked ‘Seiran Access’. Given Karen’s city-wide announcement, it made sense to send extra security that way. Once they all left, Luka and the others could proceed toward the lift. Judging by its position, it couldn’t possibly go upward, so that plus its lack of label made it a prime candidate. Before running over, though, Luka noticed the odd set double doors on the right side of the hub. While the rest of this place seemed almost brutalistic in its stark, functional appearance, those doors were decked out in bright colors, and above them was a label spelled out in large capital letters, pale yellow-green with darker green dots: Daycare.

“Daycare?” Luka whispered. “Why would this place have a daycare? Who’s bringing their children past a security checkpoint?” Spurred on by a mixture of curiosity and dread, Luka headed for those doors instead. On the other side lay a wide hallway with an arched roof, with a matching set of double doors on the other side. Once Luka jogged down the corridor and pushed the door ajar, he could see exactly what the Day Care was.



Before him stood a very large room shaped like a square donut, with high ceilings that reminded Luka of a gym despite its somewhat alien appearance. Its look wasn’t anywhere near as strange as what was happening in it, though. The ‘donut’ featured two tracks separated by a central channel, and along those tracks were a number of people on ordinary bicycles. Though mostly human, these riders came in all shapes and sizes, most featuring a handful of inhuman or animalistic features like ears, tails, horns, et cetera. Clad in black and red sports attire, they were just…peddling around. Every one of those bikes, however, had a basket on the front laden with eggs, very pale green with darker green spots just like the sign over the doors. After stepping inside to confirm the truth of his eyes, Luka just stood there for a couple moments, baffled. “What are…why are they doing this?”

He gradually turned his attention toward the structure in the center of the ‘donut’. Though it had several windows and no doors in its entry, he couldn’t see very much from this angle. Mostly just glass walls, hazy -or dirty- enough to reflect the light in such a way that he couldn’t really see through it. Luka did see one thing, though. It was a line of ordinary people in nondescript white shorts and tank tops, some of them teenagers or even younger. Some of them held little orbs, of various colors, the majority half red and half white. As he watched, the central chamber suddenly filled with prismatic light. It shone for a moment, then died down, and after another couple seconds the line advanced.

The Under - Mercy Dreams

Level 12 Nadia (133/120)
The Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Artorias’ @Dark Cloud, Nocturne’s @Grimnir, Tingyun, Stetson the Scout, Paintbrush the Gunner, Overhard the Engineer, Cyclops the Scout
Word Count: 3172


Once she confirmed that the high-pitched, all-too-familiar voice in the distance wasn’t just her weary mind playing tricks on her, Nadia’s mission was clear in her mind. Her first instinct was to vault over the wrought-iron railing before her and plummet down into the depths of the dungeon itself, single-mindedly rushing forward and taking all comers until her best friend was safe and sound. After all, this eerie penitentiary layout meant that she could leap straight into the belly of the beast if desired, a tempting prospect given her love for dramatic entrances. And what situation demanded drama like a daring rescue? For once, however, Nadia decided not to be reckless. While she and the others had run roughshod over plenty of dangerous places so far, every fiber of her being told her that this morbid, uncanny prison wasn’t a place she could take lightly. Not this time. Her instincts told her that Mercy Dreams had some sort of strange intention to it, and though she couldn’t fathom what it might be, she knew in her gut that it was best left undisturbed. As a paper butterfly took flight nearby, Nadia released her tense grip on the iron fence and stepped away. If she wasn’t going to jump, it was past time she found another way down.

Nadia and the others split up, separating under the tacit assumption that nobody was to make a scene if they could help it. With how quickly the feral scampered around, and how undefended Mercy Dreams’ uppermost level. seemed to be, it wasn’t long before the girl and her dog found the intended way down to the second layer on the left side. Using it was another matter, though. The access route took the form of a stairway corridor, and both landings featured their own sturdy metal portcullis. Sliding to a stop on all fours, Nadia stood and laid one hand on a metal slat as she turned to look around. She found the mechanism not in the form of a lever on the floor or wall, but suspended from the ceiling up near the pulleys that controlled the gate. It was an assembly of gears all contained inside a large glass jar, and she could see what appeared to be a weight resting on the jar’s bottom with rope coiled atop it. Going with the obvious solution, Nadia stepped back and raised one fist extended like a rifle as she closed one eye and squinted the other. A brief moment of blood pressurization later, she fired off her fist and smashed the fragile glass with one punch. She flinched at the sound of shattering glass as it broke apart and hit the floor, tensed up in case any prison denizens noticed, but nobody seemed to. Instead the counterweight dropped, and as it fell the gate rose. Once she felt sure no enemies would be coming to corner her in this narrow corridor, she and Chucho raced down the stairs to the gate at the bottom.

This would be slightly more complicated, as there seemed to be no way to open the gate from this side. She couldn’t see another switch jar either, though she suspected one must be close by. “Weird system,” she muttered. Maybe this double gate system forced mutual agreement between parties on both sides of the stairs for anyone to get through? She scratched at a metal slat with her claws, but it wouldn’t yield. “Watt about this?” When she tried to bolt through with a Charge, it ended with her head slamming into the steel bars. “Ow, right. Lightning likes metal. Well, there's more than one way to skin a cat.” Nadia stuck one arm through the lattice and detached it, letting it fall to the floor. Then she took her head off with the other, squeezed it through the biggest space available, and dropped it as well. “Oof!” From there, she grabbed her head with the fallen arm and moved it around until she spotted the switch jar around the corner. “Bingo. Nothin’s safe from me as long as I use my…head!” With that she hurled her head like a volleyball and struck the jar with her mechanism, shattering it to open the gate wide and let her body through.

“Rrrrruh!?” Nadia’s smug satisfaction evaporated like morning dew as she heard a questioning snarl just down the corridor, far too close for comfort. Rather than snatch up her arm and head, she allowed the rest of her to fall to pieces, eking out blood to give the illusion of a freshly-dismembered corpse. Right on time, the guard she alerted arrived. Watching through barely-cracked eyes, Nadia beheld something that looked like a man, but clearly wasn’t all there. Though muscular, his bloodied, half-naked body exhibited signs of atrophy, and he lurched around with unnatural vigor. The heavy, gasping breath that issued from his scarlet headwrap suggested the presence of fluid in his lungs, and the motes of sunset red within it seemed more like sparks than eyes. In both hands he held bloody scourges. After he staggered to a stop, another flagellant came into view, followed in turn by a Spear of the Cathedra atop his floating chair, clad in flowing red. After a moment, the flagellant determined that not enough blood had been spilled and grunted, lashing Nadia’s torso across the belly. The intensity of that pain brought tears to Nadia’s eyes, her teeth and eyes clenched as she fought to give no signs of life. By that point the Spear and his other attendant had turned to resume their patrol, and after seeing blood trickle onto the ground the first flagellant gave a satisfied purr and turned to go.

When she heard its steps receding, Nadia cracked one eye open, then extended sinews from her body parts to connect them back together. Once whole, she stalked after her attacker into the dimly-lit hall, drawing Athame. The flagellant didn’t know what hit him. As one arm locked around his throat from behind to cut off his air throw, the other drove the dagger into his back, eliciting a guttural, breathless wheeze. To the feral’s surprise, however, he continued to struggle violently, not slowing down even when she stabbed him two more times. “The hell?” she hissed. This thing wasn’t human–not even close. When he managed to reach around and grab her by the ear, panic spurred her to resort to desperate measures. She released him and jammed the knife into the undead monster’s head, then delivered a heavy cross slash to his back with her claws. Finally the flagellant slumped down, but as he fell, the sound of his body slamming against the floor got the attention of the other one. With no time to grab her head, Nadia sprang into the air and sunk her claws into the ceiling, hiding in the darkness. When the second flagellant came to investigate, the feral waited until the right moment when he was standing over his comrade’s dissolving corpse. Then her head burst forward on a jet of blood from her neck, knocking one of the flagellant’s legs out from under him. As he teetered forward, Nadia’s body dropped onto him from above to take him face-first to the ground. This time, she knew she couldn’t be lenient. Pinning him beneath her, she revved up both arms like drills, thrust them into the monster’s sides, and brought them together until the flagellant had been halved.

That took long enough and made enough noise to alert the Spear of the Cathedra, who turned with a wordless cry to hover Nadia’s way. With his lackeys gone, however, the feral felt more confident. “Careful,” she said darkly, spinning her arm drills down. “This isn’t a bit.” As she rose she shot out one hand to grasp Athame’s handle, and as she took off running she yanked it free. As the two approached one another, Nadia threw her dagger, only for it to sail past the Spear’s shoulder and off down the hallway. Groaning, the feral went low, avoiding the old man’s thrust with a Cat Slide beneath his floating throne. After getting behind him, she jumped up and delivered a drop kick to the back of the cathedra in an attempt to knock him out of it and onto the floor. Instead she heard a crack as she flipped away and hit a three-point landing. When the Spear turned toward her, she was horrified to see his spine somehow fused with the cracked back of his chair, and the same nightmarish sparks in the sockets of his eyes. With a hollow cry he jabbed at her repeatedly, drawing blood with the first and then forcing her to block until she timed an evasive roll away. The Spear advanced on her turned back, but Nadia looked over her shoulder with narrowed eyes, hardening and then bloodily launching her tails. They flew up and sank into the Spear’s body, staggering him long enough for her to flip over and fired off a maximum-power Fiber Upper. Her spring-loaded double kick struck the monster in the chest and snapped his cathedra’s back, sending both it -and the Spear- flying off. Immediately the throne went up in flames, and the Spear dissolved right after.

Nadia stood slowly, taking a deep breath. Chucho caught up to her with a whimper, looking a bit nervous. Those enemies hadn’t been too hard, but their unnatural constitution demanded a sort of ruthlessness from her that even she found a little scary. “I’m a thief, not a fur-eakin’ assassin,” she muttered to herself as she went to collect her tails. Finding Athame took a little longer, but she stumbled across it about halfway down the second layer cell block. She slid it into her belt, stood, and found herself standing before a strange cell. Its lock was broken, so instead it was boarded over from the outside, and unlike most of the doors this one had a barred window. Inside, Nadia could see a large chest wrapped in chains, just begging to be open. Normally she would’ve been all over it, but right now, even treasure could wait. “Minette?” Nadia dared to raise her voice slightly, hoping her misadventures had brought her closer to her imprisoned friend.

“Nadia? Where are you?”

At the voice, Nadia whirled around, looking back the way she came. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw the visage of a teenage Dagonian girl in an apron and seashells, silhouetted against the weak glow of candles in the gloom. Nadia’s ears flattened in alarm as she blinked rapidly, trying to see more clearly, but just like that the apparition had vanished so suddenly and completely that she couldn’t be sure it had ever been there to begin with. “Minette!?”

“I’m here, Nadia!” Now that she was facing the source of the voice, the feral could tell that it wasn’t nearby. Closer than before, but still not close. Maybe one layer further down. But then…what was that shadow? Was she just seeing things? Once again, the sound of her friend’s voice roused her to action. “Please, hurry!”

Nadia did. The second layer had a couple more patrols, but she avoided them, sticking to the shadows and zipping past with a Charge when necessary. Chucho helped a lot, alerting her to enemies and illuminating alternate paths. Nadia could hear fighting from elsewhere in Mercy Dreams. Were the other Seekers facing demons of their own? When the cat burglar found another barred staircase, she smashed the upper switch jar like before, then raced down the steps. This time she didn’t plan to screw around, so when she reached the bottom, she conjured a copycat that could simply pass through the portcullis like the glorified water she was. As the copycat went to smash the switch jar, Nadia heard a magical noise from the right, and a ray of brilliant green light blazed in from a blind spot to splatter the copycat against the wall. “Mew gotta be kitten me.” Wrinkling her nose, she looked over through the bars to see a Mind Flayer shuffling into view. Though clothed for the most part in a ratty robe like a burlap sack, the head of the cephalopod monstrosity looked just as bad as it smelled. “Urk, what nyeow?” She crouched down, her claws sharpened despite the separating barrier. “You want a copiece of me?”

In reply the mind flayer lifted its bell and unleashed a wad of magical electricity. It flew through the gate, and Nadia’s eyebrows shot up. “Hey, that’s not-!” Then the spell struck her, paralyzing her in a wreath of eldritch green lightning. “Gya-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!” While she struggled, the jailer grasped the bars of the gate and extended its tentacles to grab her. Barking, Chucho grabbed his owner by the arm and pulled her over backward. The impact with the stairs barely registered; Nadia was just glad her pooch saved her from that grab. Gurgling, the mindflayer gnashed its beak and thrashed its tentacles until the spell wore off. Then, as Nadia rose, it lifted its bell to cast again. “Alright already, no need to spell it out for me!” the feral yowled. As she fled back up the stairs, another Soul Ray went off where she’d been a moment prior. Hounded by its awful gurgles, she didn’t stop or even look back until she reached the second layer.

Once there she sat down for a moment, panting as she pet her softly-glowing Polterpup in the dark. “Okay. That guy’s clearly no octopushover. Gotta find another way…” Her eyes landed on the perimeter fence that ringed Mercy Dreams’ central space. Jumping to the bottom was out of the question, but maybe she could abuse this layout in another way. Nadia made her way to the railing. “After all, I’ve got a good head on my shoulders…or off them, for that matter.” She carefully lifted off her head, still connected by a length of muscle fibers, then dangled it over the edge and began to let out the slack. She extruded more and more to lower her head down to the third layer, allowing her to see the mind flayer upside-down as it guarded the staircase. After confirming its location, she reeled her head back in, then grabbed onto and vaulted over the fence to lower the rest of her down the same way–by extending the lengths of tissue connecting her hands. Eventually she reached the bottom, it being built out slightly farther than the layer above, and gently touched down so as to not alert the watchful sentry. Once in the clear, she let go with her hands, reeled them back in, and scampered off down the hallway with Chucho right behind. By the time the mind flayer looked over, she was gone.

After getting a safe distance away, the feral tentatively raised her voice again. “Minette? Are you there?”

“This way!” Her friend’s voice was low, urgent, and close.

Nadia homed in, pausing only to hide in the shadows from a passing mind flayer. Lucky that they were carrying bells and not lanterns. If the atmosphere in Mercy Dreams had been bad in the first layer, it was much more pleasant halfway down, and promised to get even worse closer to the bottom. She called out a couple more times as she went, and soon, Minette’s voice wasn’t from somewhere in front of her, but from the cell right beside her. Nadia took a deep breath. “Minette. I’m here.”

“Nadia! Oh, thank goodness!” Though she whispered to avoid being heard, the fishgirl’s voice was wracked with emotion. “I c-can’t believe it’s really you.”

The cat burglar swallowed. “Yeah…”

“H-h-how’d you find me?”

Nadia hesitated to answer. She didn’t want to say ‘pure coincidence’, which was the truth. Instead she put on a gallant smile, even though her friend couldn’t see. “What can I say? Whenever I hear my bestie’s in trouble, I come runnin’. That’s just how it is.”

Something between a happy sob and a rueful laugh issued from the cell. “Y-yeah…no m-matter how many times it happens, you’re always there. The brave knight rushing to save the perennial damsel in distress.” She exhaled, then inhaled sharply. “I’m…I’m s-sorry this k-keeps happening. That I always bumble into stuff like this, and you have t-to save me. Those creeps, the-the robbers, the cops, the Medicis, the…”

From the beginning, Nadia had harbored her doubts. What were the odds that she’d really run into her best friend in a place like this? But this didn’t just sound like Minette; those were her memories, too. Their memories. Nadia allowed herself to open up, genuine concern expressed through her voice. “Hey, hey, look, don’t do that to yourself,” she cooed. “Some guys have all the luck, right? Me, I’m just glad you’re okay. And always, always happy to help! I don’t mind one bit if you need me, ‘cause I need you, too. In fact, I need you outta here. So just hold on a little bit longer, ‘kay?”

Minette’s voice turned panicked. “W-wait, don’t leave me!”

“I just gotta go find the keys, right? My friends’re all lookin’ too. It’ll be a ‘lock’ in the park, you’ll see, so just give us a ‘Minette’, eh?”

Despite her current predicament, the fishgirl couldn’t help but laugh. “H-heheheh, ohh, Nadia. How can you crack jokes at a time like this?”

“Crackin’ yolks is just how I roe, baby,” Nadia grinned, relieved that her comic relief was actually working as intended for once. After a moment, though, her smile faded. “Uh…just one last thing, Minette. Somethin’s been buggin’ me…”

“What is it?”

The feral took a deep breath. “How do I know…you’re real?”

Her question seemed to take Minette aback. “R-r-real? Wh-what do you mean? I…of course I’m real, you know I am. I’m M-minette, and I lived in Little Innsmouth all my life. The R-River King is my dad, I’ve got a b-bunch of sisters, and I work at Yu-Wan’s r-restaurant. And you’re my best friend, Nadia. My hero.”

Nadia looked down at the cold stone brick floor, speechless. She swallowed, her throat dry. Her stomach felt hollow, and her heart ached. She kept on smiling, but for a brief moment, the corners of her mouth twitched. Sensing her distress, Chucho whined. Nadia knew that should make her happy. Why then did she feel such dread?

“R-right,” she replied after a moment, petting her dog for stress relief. “Sorry I asked. This place–it’s got me a little, ehe, y’know, loopy.” She pressed her hand against the cell door, just hard enough to make an audible noise. “Just hang in there, like I said. I’ll be back be-fur ya know it. I purr-omise.”

The voice on the other side took a deep, steadying breath. “...Okay. Please hurry back!”

Nadia waited a second more. Two seconds. Three. Ten. Then she stood, and resumed her search.




At the bottom of the huge, dark shaft opened by the heart that Ganondorf sent crashing down from its tower lay a fetid mire that stank of death, its sludgy waters full of fleshy mounds far too big to have come from an ordinary animal, crusted over with fungus and festering with maggots. There, in a pit of its own juices, the heart came to rest, wriggling in vain until its spasms became palpitations and finally ceased altogether. Even after it ceased, however, its loathsome flesh continued to move, until finally a host of grotesque man centipedes tore their way loose and began to spread around the bog.

By that time, though, Ganondorf and Jesse had no doubt navigated the crude, rotting wooden walkways just above the mire and found a sturdy door. Once forced open, they stepped out onto the third layer of Mercy Dreams, roughly opposite the side where Nadia had meddled with a mind flayer minutes before. This was an unorthodox place to enter the underground prison, but then again, he’d blazed an unorthodox trail. When the warlord used his linkpearl, the feral -being a little on edge- was the first to respond.

“Shhhh,” she shushed him gently. “We’re scattered around the prison. Lookin’ for the boss. There’s somethin’ weird about this place. Keep a low profile, will ya Big G? Good hearin’ from ya again, by the way. Thought we mighta parted ways for good back there.” Did she really like Ganondorf? Not really. Was he good to have around? Definitely. With the warlord (and allegedly, Jesse) in Mercy Dreams with her, Nadia felt a little less lonely. Plus, with a Toady on its way to deliver a requested key, things might get livelier very soon.
Lewa


After felling a living, breathing man like a tree, it took Lewa a moment to snap back to reality, such that it was. When he did, he found not just a handful, but a whole platoon of other soldiers gathering together not far away, seconds away from the point where their numbers would bolster their confidence enough to push them forward. Lewa’s slackened grip tightened around the shaft of his axe, and he brandished it with both hands. He didn’t want to take any more lives, especially after the cavalier demonstrated how easy it could be if everything went wrong in just the right way. And if he could do that, what about the others already demonstrating much greater strength, elemental power, and callous indifference to bloodshed? They should run, Lewa thought. Even in numbers, surely they realized that a couple would fall when they attacked. Did they not value their own lives? He narrowed his eyes and steeled himself for the assault.

Instead, a voice cut the tension, and Lewa zeroed in on the source. When the stranger appeared, he sported a distinctive shock of yellow fibers on his head. Lewa wondered if that stuff might be somehow analogous to the masks of his world’s people in that those unique styles gave each individual a visual identity, just with the top and back of the head rather than the front. More relevant was this newcomer’s polearm, though, which seemed to possess some sort of power of its own judging by its glow. A toa tool? Trying not to become too distracted by all this dazzling newness, Lewa focused on what the stranger was saying, but even then he ended up confused. “Golem?” He murmured, watching as this person seemed to take charge of the surrounding Raven Heralds. In so doing he exhibited a rather casually callous manner, which naturally rubbed Lewa the wrong way. “How is it that I feel more for this poor soul’s passing than his own ally?”

The stranger wasn’t paying attention, instead barking orders at his troops. Maybe he took inaction on Lewa’s part for granted. If he intended to oppose the toa, Lewa would be much better off taking the initiative. On a more normal day, he probably would have. Move now, think-question later, might as well be his motto. Today though, he was so far out of his element that he couldn’t bring himself to be impulsive. When the stranger did address Lewa again, his consternation only grew.

“I am no ‘golem’,” he told the blonde man indignantly. “I am Lewa, Toa of Air. If I have a maker, I forgot him during my long journey through the sea-waves. I am far from home, but for the sake of all I hold close-dear, I cannot falter!”

His enemy began the fight soon after, flaunting a power that Lewa didn’t recognize. With no idea what might be happening, he couldn’t react in time to evade the shockwave, and used his arm as a shield to take the blow. “Hnngh!” he grunted, pain shooting through his nervous system. If this foe could unleash energy like that at long range, he knew he should get up close. As he tensed up, he activated his Kanohi Miru. His mask began to glow, green as the verdant jungle, and when Lewa leaped into the air he soared like a bird. After a moment, though, his mask of levitation petered out, and he began to descend. Holding his axe with one hand, he compressed air into the palm of the other while airborne, and when he came down on his foe’s position he did so with an explosive release of air to blow open his guard or knock him down.
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