Lugubrious

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

Esaka’s Middle Tier

Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (172/150) Level 11 Big Band (66/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Zenkichi’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
Word Count: 1909 / 2112

Mere moments after Nadia left Button Check in her roguish new getup, the sight of a curbside bulletin board, gleaming with effulgent golden letters, reminded her that Esaka’s newest series of tournament was just about to begin. With no time to lose, she hurriedly bid Annie farewell and bolted away at top speed, her hood flying off as her coattails fluttered behind her. Asymmetrical thanks to her missing arm, she quickly found that her balance was off as she ran, and did her best to compensate on the fly as she dodged pedestrians and vaulted obstacles. The Pools might be only a short sprint and a long fall away, but there was no telling where exactly her first match was supposed to take place, so she couldn’t afford to dilly-dally.

For now, her rigging pack and Kagari Rokushikisouken box cutters would have to remain in the NMO dojo where she left them yesterday, though maybe that was for the best. Versatility in abilities and arsenal paid dividends on cross-country adventures, but in serious fights against skilled opponents, Nadia thought it wiser to pare her options down to her tried-and-true favorites, the weapons and powers she’d built up synergy and muscle memory with. Skating through the Pools with the help of Massachusetts’ shipgirl rigging had been a blast, but walking on water wouldn’t do her much good if going out of bounds in a pools match resulted in a ring out. As she made for the perimeter of Esaka’s Middle Tier, Nadia couldn’t help but laugh at herself; if she really had a head on her shoulders, she would have spent last night practicing her combos and mixups instead of getting drunk, ambushed, and then blown up. Instead she was tired, bedraggled, and mentally unsound. No matter how bad she felt, though, she knew she couldn’t back out now, not when winning Mortal Kombat would be her the one thing that might buy back the other Seekers’ respect. Getting through today would be her toughest challenge so far, and she’d need to put on her bravest face yet.

As she closed in on the tier’s edge, Nadia took a deep breath, then dove over the railing.

The Pools tier unfolded beneath her, an enormous donut-shaped water park of unremarkable stone or wood arenas connected by a variety of bridges and walkways. The feral plummeted, her heart pounding as fresh adrenaline coursed through her veins and the brisk wind whipped at her hair and clothes alike. Beneath her the water sparkled in the morning sunlight. The stone brick surged closer and closer as onlookers stopped and stared, stunned and wondering if she’d survive the fall. Nadia didn’t know either, but the raw life-or-death exhilaration of freefall cleared her head just enough for her bravado to grab hold. She twisted around in mid-air, hardened her claws, and jammed them into the sheer stone wall behind her. “Hrrrrrrrrrgh!” Her muscles strained, tight as a drum, and her arm threatened to wrench itself free from her socket, but she willed her fibers to hold together as they stretched like bungee cords.

After a tense couple moments, she slid to a stop a few dozen feet above the water’s surface. In front of her, two fighters who’d already taken their places on a floating raft watched, taken aback. One, a girl with a spiky blonde ponytail and a chain attached to her ripped jeans, seemed dumbfounded, while the other, a darkly-dressed edgelord with very baggy pants, gave her an unamused golf clap. “Nice stunt,” he said dryly. “If I were you, though, I’d save my energy for the matches.”

“Oh, don’t you worry!” Planting her Mantreads against the wall, Nadia leaped forward, flipped, and landed on her feet between the two fighters. When she raised her claws, their edges sharpened like razors after their grind through solid stone, they practically glinted. “I’ve got purr-lenty to go around!”

She ran across the raft, her tail waving with excitement. Another jump brought her to the nearby pier, and when she glanced back at the floating arena she’d just landed on, she spotted ethereal golden characters on its surface. W-37, she read. That must be setup thirty-seven for the World Warrior, then, and she was looking for setup M-12. Nadia looked around, grimacing. Her designated arena could be anywhere, and with no clocks around to tell the time, she couldn’t tell how many minutes remained before the tournament officially began. Would failure to show up on time result in an instant disqualification? Oh boy. Maybe going to fetch her shipgirl rigging from the dojo would’ve been a worthwhile detour after all. “Well, no time to lose,” Nadia muttered to herself with an air of resignation.

She dashed off, searching high and low for any sign of her designated battleground. It was slower going than she would have liked, in part because she couldn’t use the water like she normally could. In fact, with her new costume, getting soaked would be a major detriment, so Nadia had to put her agility to the test to stay both mobile and dry in a place with precious little solid ground. She had no choice but to pressurize her limbs with blood and blast it out to boost herself through the air, trusting in the Life Gem’s power to replenish her reserves by the time she needed it for kombat.

Within a few minutes, she’d reached the quarter of the Pools allotted for the Mortal Kombat qualifiers, judging by all the arena codes with the ‘M’ prefix. Nadia’s nerves only got worse as she darted around the area, though. With the seconds ticking down, she tensed up as if expecting to be struck with a disqualification at any second. In the midst of her panicked search, however, she received a surprise in the form of a bright pink laser beam, fired straight up into the sky. The feral recognized it instantly, of course. “Robo!” The cybernetic catgirl she’d coerced into being her Kameo was already where she needed to be, and in her mounting impatience had fired off one of her death rays into the sky as a makeshift beacon. “Hang on, Tin Cans, I’m comin’!”

Nadia raced toward the source of the pink beam, scrambling over stone brick bridges and leaping between perilous pillars. Finally she spotted her destination: a smooth stone platform at the edge of the Pools. The fighting ground was simple enough, a flat and unembellished distended hexagon shaped like a tapered trapezoid atop a cube, but the architecture around it was remarkably ornate. Water flowed out beneath gothic arches that stood on the tier’s perimeter, cascading down to a river that wound through the Low Tier. An ornate stone balustrade between the pillars that flanked the arena provided the only protection one could expect against a ring out. With a large, elaborate fountain nearby, where a couple dozen parabolic arcs of water streamed out beneath the statue of a winged pegasus, it was a shockingly picturesque battleground for the very first match of a tournament.

Unfortunately, Nadia’s prospective opponents -also present and accounted for- were nowhere near as aesthetic pleasing. Both appeared to be monstrous cyborgs, with heavy-duty tech weapons grafted onto living bodies. One at least resembled a human with visible skin, eyes, and green cargo pants, though the reactor planted in his chest, built-in respirator, and menacing robotic arms tipped with giant rotor blades meant that Purge was anything but natural. His partner, meanwhile, was simply a giant green mutant made into a living weapon, complete with fearsome steel teeth.

Of course, Robo wasn’t much better. Though her metallic faceplate betrayed nothing, something about her cold dead stare told Nadia that her doohickey doppelganger was livid. Despite Nadia’s hood, her copycat seemed to recognize her at a glance. “You are late,” she intoned, her buzzy electronic voice harsh and flat.

“Fashionably late,” Nadia corrected with a wink. “Gotta keep you on your toes…ster. Toaster, get it?”

“Sigh.” If Robo could have rolled her eyes, Nadia suspected she would have. Instead she turned them on the enemy team, and the real feral followed her gaze.

The cat burglar grinned as she sized up the opposition. “Sigh-borg, you mean. I mean, look at these guys! Who’re you grease monkeys supposed to be?”

“I am Purge! Though soon, you may come to know me as ‘your worst nightmare’!” As if he’d been waiting for the opportunity, the wannabe helicopter stepped forward to announce himself. Nadia guessed that he must be the leader, and the green one his Kameo. “And this is Ssapo. Say hi, Ssapo.”

Ssapo snapped his huge metal teeth together. Clang, clang!

Nadia sucked in air through her own teeth as she grimaced. “Ooh, uh, sorry bud, but you’re a little early I think. Wasn’t expecting you ‘til tooth-hurty!”

Purge stared, his lifeless white eyes unblinking. “The chatty type, eh? You ought to save your breath.” He reached out a giant arm, rotating his four fingers as he spread them wide, then clamped them together in the direction of Nadia’s throat. “You’ll need every last one!”

Nadia didn’t respond, since she was busy altering her outfit. It proved to be a little tricky with just one arm, but a few quick, precise cuts were all it took to reduce her sleeves and pant legs to workable lengths. With her seams unobstructed, her one-of-a-kind fighting style would be firing on all cylinders. Purge just watched for a few moments, dumbfounded, before he found his voice. “What...what are you doing?”

“Huh?” Nadia looked up, her electric blue eyes wide within the shadow of her hood. “Oh, nothing. Just gettin’ comfortable. What, never seen a girl be-fur?”

“No! I mean, yes, I have! Obviously!” Purge averted his gaze, his eyes narrowed. It ended up on Ssapo, who clanked his teeth together again, which seemed to annoy Purge further. “Hmph!”

At that moment, Nadia’s ears twitched beneath her hood at the sound of familiar footfalls. She turned her head and spotted Primrose approaching. She stiffened up, her mouth agape for a brief moment, but rather than speak a word the feral tentatively swallowed. She hadn’t expected to run into another Seeker so soon, though maybe in retrospect it should’ve been obvious someone would figure out where to find her. Paralyzed, Nadia could only watch and wait for Primrose to make the first move.

Rather than rebukes or accusations, though, the dancer offered her a missing limb. After a second, Nadia let out a relieved breath, then took the arm and reattached it to its stump. When she closed her first and tightened her muscles, blood spurted out from her seams. “Well, how about that,” she managed. Though her sheepish smile was hidden beneath her hood, Primrose could probably see the feral’s gratitude in her eyes. “Appreciate you goin’ out on a limb for me.” With that, the two women drew apart, and Nadia turned a mischievous look on purge. “Guess you don’t get a hand-icap after all.”

The cyborg scoffed. “Pah. Didn’t need one anyway.”

Rolling her eyes, Nadia looked over at Robo-fortune, one eyebrow raised. “When’s the tournament start, again? I’m bored~”

---

Slowly, the Seekers of Light made their way out of Quick Rise, through the Low Tier, and toward the nearest lift to the Pools. Despite the general hubbub among both Esaka residents and yokai alike, it wasn’t exactly a stampede. The people here were all fighters of some stripe, but comparatively few planned to fight in this tournament series, and even fewer would be headed up to watch matches this early in the tournament. While not familiar with Esaka’s tournament culture just yet, Band could more or less guess why. In any given tournament, the number of elite combatants that people wanted to see would probably be vastly outnumbered by low to mid-level fighters trying their luck, who formed the bulk of the fighting community. That meant a lot of bouts between unknowns or one-sided stomps to get through before quality matches happened, and judging by the tournament schedule, that could easily take days. Band still had no idea how all this would be televised, but that was probably a factor, too. Still, there were at least enough people on their way to the tier lift that he and the others didn’t need to bug Terry for guidance.

It seemed like Terry had enough to deal with already, after all. Band glanced at the Hungry Wolf as the Seekers closed in on the elevator, his side-eye furtive and a little dubious. Though the burly blond put on an easygoing, cheerful air, making himself out to be an irrepressible everyman that the others could always lean on, Band could see by now that trouble brewed beneath the surface. Now where had he heard that one before? A shame Ms Fortune hadn’t been around to handle the solvable problem of Terry being broke, especially after he treated her to lunch the day before. The real eyebrow-raiser was how he blamed himself out of the blue for the attack on Banishing Flats, while absolving the catgirl who probably was the most at fault. After making connections that were tenuous at best, he went on to describe himself as beyond forgiveness, and more of a burden than a boon to the team.

All the while, Band had treated him to an increasingly incredulous stare. Part of him wanted to tell the younger man to snap out of it and quit being so melodramatic, but he didn’t know Terry well enough to determine if a little tough love was what he needed. Thus, in the interest of not actually doing more harm than good, the detective held his tongue and let Pit console him. Clearly the man had a lot more inner conflict going on than one might expect. Band could only hope that he got his head in the game by the time fists started flying.

Terry had dropped one important clue, though. As Band stepped aboard the tier lift and turned away from the inner city to watch the Low Tier recede beneath him, he mulled over the unlikely detail that Terry managed to remember. Apparently, the thunder god he, Harry, and Kim encountered yesterday had actually used the term ‘Seekers of Light’. If either of the other detectives remembered letting that name slip, this Raiden could be the lead that Roland or another investigator needed. If neither Harry nor Kim gave away the team’s name, though, they might have come even closer to the culprit than they realized. Plus, now that the Seekers had a thunder god involved, Band could help but remember that all-too-sudden storm surge from last night. Making connections where none existed was a common pitfall, of course, but still. A good detective left everything on the table.

In short order, the elevator crested the edge of the Pools. Band and the others stepped out into the tier, consulted the nearest bulletin board, and parted ways to hunt down the simple stages where they’d fight their first matches. The cyborg had been here before when traveling between the Low and Middle Tiers, of course, but today the Pools were an entirely different beast. Instead of scattered sightseers or lonesome ponderers, today’s water park hosted a smorgasbord of fighters from all walks of life. Those not bustling to and fro in search of their own battlegrounds were warming up with stretches or drills as they waited for the tournament to begin. Some sized up their opponents and traded barbs, while others chatted with old friends or rivals. Despite the looming competition, the atmosphere was fairly casual for now. Among the scattered yokai already haunting the venue, Band spotted one high above water level with an unusual camera in its hands. Maybe that was how tournament matches would be broadcasted throughout Esaka’s lifestream?

As one might expect of the city’s biggest and most popular tournament, World Warrior demanded the lion’s share of the available Pools setups, so even though the Seekers arrived in that section, it would take a while for Band, Sakura, and Harry to find their stations. Looking at the enormous number of would-be street fighters around here, it was hard not to be intimidated; the Seekers numbered just three in a pool of two hundred and fifty six competitors, all vying for the chance to lay their hands on Bison. According to his encounters yesterday, Kim Wu, Balrog, and TJ Combo should all be here, but even Band couldn’t pick them out of the visual chaos. He did, however, manage to find his own destination: arena W-119. This took the form of a roughly circular stone circle of pitted, porous stone brick, ornamented with a large rug that sported an emerald-colored bump in the very middle. A large stone statue in poor condition rose from the water on one side, a venomous smirk on her timeworn face. Band seemed to be the first one here, so after jumping over from a nearby bridge he settled in to wait.

He wasn’t left waiting for long. Just minutes later, he spotted a man walking the same bridge he did, headed toward the arena. The stranger wore his long brown hair and beard unstyled, along with a simple slate blue robe with bright yellow highlights. When he gathered himself up and leaped over the water, his robe fluttered upward like a parachute, and after catching a glimpse of pale skin Band looked away before he could observe whether or not the man was wearing anything underneath it. Once the stranger landed opposite him and dusted himself off, Band cleared his throat. “So. You’re Mr. Rasputin, I take it?”

“Oh, yes! Grigori Rasputin, at your service!” Rasputin replied in a singsong voice. “And you must be Big Band. I must say, you certainly fit the bill…” He spread his arms wide, a wild smile on his face. “I come to you today in the name of love, to preach an end to mankind’s endless cycle of violence!”

Big furrowed his brow, blinking. “To…a fighting tournament?”

Rasputin bowed. “Of course! To purge ourselves of our temptations, we must face and overcome them first-hand, be it on the battlefield or in the bedroom!”

“Uh huh…” Band couldn’t help but chuckle dryly at the strange man’s mission statement. “Guess you got your work cut out for ya, pal.”

At that, Rasputin just smiled and closed one fist, which sparked with electricity, sparkled with ice, and blazed with embers. “Certainly. But love will always triumph!”

Just then, the serpentine airborne streams of ghostly energy that flowed around and throughout Esaka began to surge. Enough spread throughout the city’s tiers, including the Pools, that every makeshift arena received at least one. Other fighters quickly leaned into the ethereal currents, including Rasputin, so Band went ahead and followed suit. When he did, he experienced a brief, dizzying burst of psychedelic colors and voices, but after a moment they resolved into the image of a balcony. It featured a set of double doors flanked by two crimson banners on both sides, one representing each tournament. Band couldn’t identify what building this balcony might be attached to, but judging by the architecture and the way the banners fluttered in the wind, it could easily be one of the towers in the Top Tier. This, he quickly realized, wasn’t just how the tournaments would be commenced; the commencement would be announced by the infamous Four Kings themselves.

The double doors slammed open, and one by one the overlords of Esaka strode through. Out first swaggered a brolic warlord clad in little more than spiky red armor and a skull-faced helmet, the cruel and mighty Shao Kahn, who reveled in the bloodsport called Mortal Kombat. Next, in sharp contrast to his predecessor’s practically naked villainy, sauntered a gentleman in lavish crimson attire, the wine in his glass as ruby-red as his right eye. His curtains of neck-length blond hair and rectangular mustache marked him as Rugal Bernstein, notorious statue collector who stood alone as the undisputed King of Fighters. Even now two black panthers slunk along at his heels, either impeccably trained or simply cowed by his overwhelming presence. After him came the man with an impressive mustache and shocks of gray hair, the huge muscles visible beneath his black karate gi weathered and scarred from a lifetime of use. This was Heihachi, who ruled the Tekken tournament with an iron fist, and though every bit as prideful as he the others he put on no airs to exaggerate his self-evident strength. Finally, white eyes blazed in the darkness, and out into the light of day strode M. Bison, every inch the ruthless dictator who reigned over the World Warrior tournament. He alone grinned wildly into the camera, as if imaging one face in particular whose shock and horror he yearned to relish.

As each man took up his position in front of his banner, one more figure stepped out onto the balcony. This one belonged to a woman, clad like three of the four kings in red, with a black satin cape at her back and a tall helmet upon her head. The purple eyes of the lady consul stared impassively as the door closed behind her and she stood, hands clasped behind her back, between the Four Kings.

Just as he arrived first, Shao Kahn was the first to speak first. “Fighters of Esaka! Welcome back to the stage of history!” he roared with the vigor of a seasoned announcer. “Are you ready to fight, bleed, and die? Do you have what it takes to claim victory and glory everlasting? Or will you drown in the Pools, wasted and forgotten? Steel yourselves, and struggle with every last drop of your strength! Climb the mountain we call Esaka, if you dare, and throw yourselves at the feet of your gods!”

“Before you begin!” Though Heihachi spoke in what was clearly Japanese, everyone understood him somehow. “Know that there are cowards in your midst. Last night, G-Corporation perpetrated a vile and underhanded attack on a beloved establishment in the Middle Tier. This is only their latest outrage, and it is past time we held them accountable. Starting today, my Mishima Zaibatsu will lead the charge to wipe G-Corporation from the face of Esaka, once and for all! And if one of you brings me the head of Kazuya Mishima, you will find yourself amply rewarded.” He held up a single finger. “An audience with the Heavenly Principles themselves!”

After a brief pause, Bison let out a guttural laugh. “But that’s not all that happened last night. Yesterday evening, a feeble, paltry attempt was made on my life.” Still wearing his horrific rictus grin, Bison clenched his fist and rose into the air. “Yet here I stand, stronger than ever! So know this, vermin. Such pathetic tricks are the last resort of weaklings and losers, incapable of becoming World Warrior!” He pounded his fist into the palm of his other hand in a burst of psycho power. “So if you really want me dead, come! Fight through the bracket, and give me your best shot!” He let out a malevolent laugh as he drifted back down. “I’ll be waiting.”

Rugal sipped his wine, then cleared his throat as he adjusted his tie. “And there you have it, fighters. Come and get us, if you can. And try not disappoint the Lady Consul, hmm? The tournaments start…now!”

The vision blurred, the lifestreams receded, and the fighting began.

Spire 04 - Space Logistics Complex

Lvl 9 Sandalphon (44/90) Level 6 Heismay (47/60)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double, Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2820

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 6/8 | 🛡️: 6/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat

After leaving Blazermate to try and puzzle her way through the security checkpoint’s training program, Sandalphon returned to sort out the mess that the stagecoach’s interior had become. While Ace worked on the exterior to repair some of the damage done to the vehicle’s black steel armor, the archangel meticulously sorted through the expedition’s fallen equipment alongside Ramattra, though like the monster hunter she kept an eye out for any sign of Belial. After all, few opponents encountered by the Seekers possessed both raw destructive power and dangerous intelligence, and fewer still managed to survive a fight with the heroes in order to threaten them again later. For her part, Sandalphon used External Information Network to run scans of the area at regular intervals, perhaps to excess, though in her mind one could never be too careful.

For now, though, her scans returned no signs of any potential enemies in the immediate area, aside from the Traffikrabs and Delibird. With Heismay still outside, perched atop the stagecoach as a fully dedicated lookout, she could feel reasonably confident that the team could spot any would-be ambushers in time, especially in such an open area like this. Only airborne foes could get the drop on them now, but in a way those high-yield explosive turrets that Heismay discovered provided a sense of reassurance, promising that any enemy fliers would be pulverized the minute they entered the local airspace. As such, the only things falling from the skies were fresh snowflakes, gently raining down from the dark clouds high above as the Frozen Highlands’ temperature slowly continued to drop, one fraction of a centimeter at a time. The warm glow of the stagecoach’s lamps and stewpot provided what little heat the Seekers had, and the soft, Aeolian song of the chimes drifted away in the wind.

When Sectonia had her antlers clear the traffic jam by the security gate, of course, the noise of scraping metal and skidding tires was quite hideous. Heismay grimaced as he watched the giant bugs work for a few moments, glad that his long ears were currently tucked inside his parka’s hood. Having scoped out the gridlock earlier while accompanying Sandalphon to the security booth, he had briefly wondered if there might be some method to the madness–a way to slide the vehicles around so that a path could be created between them without destroying anything. It wasn’t like the team needed those strange contraptions, though, so the scorched earth approach worked just as well. Soon Sectonia’s underlings had the road more or less clear, the route straight to the checkpoint flanked by lanes of smoking, sparking mechanical wreckage. The area now looked like a junkyard, but it would suit the Seekers’ purposes as long as they found a way to open that gate. Heismay certainly wasn’t about to brave those guard turrets to try and find gate controls on the other side, and in his eyes Sectonia was wise to not try her luck either.

Not long after Sandalphon finished organizing the stagecoach interior, pleased with everything now firmly fastened into place, her communication sigil manifested at her cheek. Geralt reported that he’d reached some sort of control center, indicating that he’d made it through the cargo sorting system without any apparent issue, and that he would open the way. Sure enough, a klaxon sounded out from the direction of the security checkpoint, and when Sandalphon stepped out into the cold to look, she saw the two-story metal barrier sliding open. As the gate receded, it revealed the sight that Heismay briefly glimpsed earlier before ducking away from the guard turrets’ targeting lasers: a stretch of tarmac pitted by large, irregular holes. There were a variety of military vehicles as well, all destroyed wrecks. At the far side, the words Raphael Space Center still shone like new over the main entrance to said facility, so near and yet so far.

“Oh, just a moment, by the way.” Heismay hopped down, landed beside Sandalphon, and offered her a device shaped like a tuna can. “Adam said this is called a Legacy. It contains the partial account of a woman named Raven. Nothing too important, I don’t think, but I figured you’d want to know.”

Sandalphon nodded and accepted the item. “Thank you, I certainly do. Even things that may seem irrelevant at first glance may reveal their significance later on.”

As the wind picked up and the snowfall quickened, the Seekers reunited and got ready to move. Ramattra and Edward worked together to hitch the newly-created Shieldrix to the stagecoach. Despite appearances, the creatures were one hundred percent obedient to their creator, as if they had no will of their own. Meanwhile, Adam and Eve rejoined the main team from the side path they’d taken, accompanied not just by the scavenger’s drone but by a damaged drop pod on an automated cargo trolley. “Hey!” Eve called, waving. “Sorry, but could anyone lend us a hand here, perhaps?”

Adam quickly explained the situation. “We tracked down Lily’s signal to this pod, meaning she’s trapped inside. Problem is, the lock’s jammed, so no matter how much I try to hack it, I can’t do a damn thing.” He looked around at the Seekers with a helpless shrug. “Don’t suppose any of you happens to be a locksmith?”

That made Roxas perk an ear, "Leave it to me." He offered, finally cheered up a bit from his earlier dour mood. He let Adam and Eve lead him to the drop pod and immediately summoned one of his Keyblades, "This should work." He said as he confidently brandished the black blade of Oblivion and tapped it gently on the drop pod's doors. With a groan, the lock literally unjammed itself and opened, allowing the drop pod's door to also open along with it.

"My weapons can open any lock." Roxas said, offering a brief explanation.

Once the door slid open, out popped a short-haired young woman with a weather-inappropriate outfit and an extreme Cockney accent. “Whew, thanks bruv! I’ve been stuck there for ages! Dunno how this keeps happenin’, I’ve got such rotten luck with these bleedin’ pods…” After stretching her arms, she reached back in and pulled out a toolbox almost half as big as she was. “Alright, back in business! What’s next?”

Eve looked over at the Raphael Space Center. “The space elevator’s in there, and it’s our ticket to the Alpha Naytiba. If anything’s broken, we’ll be needing you to get it operational, Lily.”

The pint-sized engineer nodded enthusiastically. “Just leave it to me!” she declared with a salute. With that, she and Adam made for the stagecoach, while Eve remained outside to help escort the wagon onward. In fact, with only a short ride to the space center, few Seekers decided to hitch a ride. Even Sandalphon proceeded on foot, wary that the guard turrets might take their sights off the skyline, among other things.

Her concerns proved well-founded, as a handful of Naytiba droid and borg variants appeared to obstruct the Seekers’ path. With this many heroes on call, though, they weren’t much of a threat. As Heismay advanced to bite at the Naytibas’ ankles with his saber blade, and make openings for his allies to strike, Sandalphon lent fire support from the rear. Now that everyone present saw her as their leader, she could use her rifle without having to stand atop a blue tile, which made advancing into enemy territory much more convenient. Her task was easy enough that when Mokou arrived with another Legacy from the storehouse beneath the sorting system, Sandalphon could listen to it without breaking stride. “Thank you, Mokou.” Click.

“Day 52nd after the 2nd dive. 5th record. Legacy account Raven. I am the lone survivor. The truth…the truth always lets me down. I have gathered a good amount of information from the lab’s records and the memories of Legion’s soldiers. We’ve always followed the instructions of Mother Sphere to the letter. She was our guiding light, our salvation, our god. However…in truth, Mother Sphere was a powerful artificial intelligence created by mankind. In the distant past there was an engineer named Raphael Marks. He was her creator. Mother Sphere brought great prosperity to mankind, but…she seemed to have changed her mind upon the creation of Andro-Eidos, her self-made counterpart.”

“Perhaps I should have listened to the first record first,” Sandalphon muttered as she pulled her hexagun’s trigger. In a magical flash, a sentryborg was transformed into a harmless chicken, which clucked in confusion.

“After seeing the limits of humanity and the potential of Andro-Eidos…she decided there was no room to spare for mankind. Our god is not the god of humans. Then…why? Why do we worship Mother Sphere? I don’t know anymore. The more I learn, the more questions I’m left with. Everything…puzzles me.”

With that, the recording ended, just a few seconds short of the firefight as the Seekers cleared out the last couple Naytibas between them and Raphael Space Center. Raven’s recording left Sandalphon with a few questions, but it left Eve confounded and more than a little dismayed. “That…was borderline blasphemous,” she remarked, her brow knit with concern. “I’m certain some of my sisters would wish to destroy that Legacy outright. Yet…I cannot shake a sensation of doubt and dread deep within me.”

Sandalphon put away her rifle and summoned her gunstaff to use as a walking stick. “In this world, there is no shortage of false gods,” she mentioned off-handedly. “I would recommend getting used to the concept.”

Thanks to Geralt, the front door of the Raphael Space Center was wide open. Once inside, Heismay could look up and see that the entire structure was a single domed atrium, far larger than Krat Zoo’s greenhouse, its ceiling a gargantuan lattice of metal beams and glass with a center dominated by the space elevator. The lift itself, which was for all intents and purposes a three-story cylindrical building, sat beneath an enormous tube. To the Renaissance-era eugief, it was a flabbergasting technological marvel, yet even here in this sanctuary of circuits and steels he could see the evidence of corruption. Here and there Heismay spotted large deposits of Naytiba biomass, each clump of tumors the center of a rootlike web of tendrils slowly creeping across the structure. Worse still, the floor was littered with the corpses of soldiers, despite the World of Light’s disintegration rule. The whole place filled him with a profound sense of unease, especially since Belial -which he had yet to even lay eyes upon- had still not reappeared.

At the sight of an information kiosk, Sandalphon picked up the pace. She absorbed everything it had to offer at a glance, then reported to the team. “The floorplan is arranged around the elevator in a ring of eight sectors. We are in Sector 1. Currently, the elevator is in emergency lockdown.” While the kiosk didn’t say why, it took just a glance at the lift itself to confirm that Naytiba biomass had partially overgrown one side of it, anchoring it in place. “To ascend, that biomass would need to be destroyed, and the lockdown manually lifted.”

“I can handle the technical stuff!” Lily volunteered cheerfully.

Sandalphon’s eyes followed the road-sized groove worn into the floor, bordered by burnt matchsticks, that made an abrupt right turn and circled counter-clockwise through the facility. “That said, our expedition’s goal is not to ascend via the space elevator. The Midnight Walk leads around to the right and out the Raphael Space Center’s rear exit, directly across from us.”

“Oh…” The reminder seemed to disappoint Eve, who put on a glum smile. “Well, I’ll be sorry to see you all go. We’ve known each other only a short time, and you’re definitely an odd bunch, but most companionable. Not to mention capable.”

Though his drone did not fully convey his emotions, Adam seemed less acceptant. “Are you sure? Not that I doubt Eve’s abilities, but we could use your help up there. The Highlands will be a lot safer once the Alpha Naytiba is gone.” By this point, the scavenger had also noticed that a number of the Seekers seemed eager to snatch up loot wherever it could be found, so he decided to make one last ditch attempt. “...Plus, anything we find up there other than the Alpha Core is yours for the taking. With its proximity to the Colony, there’s bound to be some good tech.”

While Sandalphon did not ignore that, her focus was more on the mission. “I believe that space would be too high of an altitude for our signalling purposes,” she began, “But I must admit that part of me is uncharacteristically curious to see it for myself. It will probably take some time to breach the Space Center’s sectors and get through to the other side.” Her pupils had become ellipsis, with one dot bouncing upward at a time from left to right. “Perhaps we could divide and conquer. If most of us remain down here to work our way through to the exit, I could accompany Eve up the Space Elevator since I could warp back.” She pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t want to ask that anyone accompany me without an easy method of return.”

Heismay scratched his chin, thinking. Under normal circumstances having the team’s leader go off alone would be an obvious recipe for disaster, but if she could return at any time it was harder to object. “I suppose I don’t see the harm.” He shrugged. “Though I struggle to imagine the allure of a place called ‘space’. There’s plenty of space down here, if you ask me.”

“Might as well get started then, Lily.” Adam’s drone gestured toward the elevator control room in Sector 8, one sector to the left, then floated over to hack open the door.

Sandalphon watched as Lily and Eve went after him, then turned toward Sectonia and Mokou. “I trust I can rely on your magical abilities to clear the Naytiba infestation?” She could only imagine that the two spellcasters could make short work of that grotesque overgrowth. “My scans indicate a few Naytibas in the area, but nothing you both can’t handle.” She doubted that the sentryborgs, mutalist ospreys, and mutalist moas would pose much of a challenge, but they might keep the fliers on their toes.

She then turned and began walking toward the right. “In the meantime, let us begin heading this way. I’ll accompany you until the elevator is operational.”

To reach Sector 5, the Seekers would need to get through Sectors 2, 3, and 4, starting with Sector 2. Compared to the left-hand path, this right-hand path featured a lot more corruption, especially around the bulkhead. With the mechanical controls jammed, the team had no choice but to force a way through. “I’ll freeze as much as possible,” Sandalphon declared. “Once it’s frozen, concentrate your assault on the frozen area.” Heismay nodded, becoming his Assassin archetype. Once everyone was ready, the archangel hurled a Frost Lock at the corrupt flesh, and her teammates piled on the damage. After slashing the site with Lurking Nightblade, Heismay returned to normal to avoid spending too much MP, then attacked with a flurry of flashes. Of course, his efforts paled in comparison to the crew’s heavier hitters, and when the ice finally shattered, the Dissociation was so strong that the biomass barrier practically evaporated.

That seemed to trigger an immune response from the Naytiba organism, so once the Seekers entered Sector 2, where another flesh wall awaited them, Naytibas crawled out of the woodwork to attack. This time it wasn’t droids, but cephalopod Skullings that had reached their full potential by infesting human corpses. These took the forms of Skull Troopers with heavy hammers, Skull Fighters with scrap metal poleaxes, and Skull Gunners with arms mutated into biological weapons, capable of shooting out streams of highly toxic fluid. These Naytibas fought with vicious, self-destructive aggression, happily taking even fatal wounds if it meant doing some real damage, and it quickly became apparent why: whenever seemingly slain, the Skulling would ooze away from the fallen corpse to find a replacement body to serve as its new host, its killer distracted by its brethren. Unless a conscious effort was made to finish off each Skulling, the number of enemy Naytibas would not diminish any time soon.

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

Esaka’s Low Tier - Quick Rise

Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (169/150) Level 11 Big Band (63/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Zenkichi’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
Word Count: 2002 / 1646

Not long after Band made himself comfortable in the most secluded corner that Quick Rise had to offer, the cafe’s front door opened with a perky ring of the attached doorbell to admit…nobody. Band blinked, then adjusted his gaze downward and caught a glimpse of pastel pink hair with frosted tips. The next moment the newcomer pushed through the queue of coffee-wanting customers lined up at the main counter and strode his way, prompting Band to straighten up and extend her a nod of acknowledgement. There was no need to wave her over; especially in a small building, it was impossible to miss Big Band.

Yayama looked surprisingly chipper, given the morbid events of last night. After what happened, he couldn’t have blamed her if she showed up bleary and bedraggled, shell-shocked and stumbling around like a zombie in a fatigue-induced stupor. Instead she carried herself with composure and confidence, the very picture of a seasoned, no-nonsense veteran, though to the sharp-eyed detective her appearance told a different tale. She might not be frazzled, but her unkempt hair was, and a number of tiny wooden shards and splinters clung to her garments. Dust and soot smudged not just her clothes, but also her forehead where she’d wiped sweat from her brow and her cheeks where her gauntlets had brushed them. Add in her comment over the linkpearl about still being in the Middle Tier, and it wasn’t much of a leap for Band to assume she’d spent the night at Banishing Flats, toiling to clean up the mess those Jack units made.

Though Yayama was a grown woman and probably didn’t want his sympathy, he offered her a sympathetic look anyway, one devoid of condescension. “Good mornin’,” he responded, pausing as she scaled the chair opposite him. He bit back a rueful smile that he thought she might mistake as amusement; she wasn’t the only one with size issues. Right now, Band wasn’t sitting on a chair so much as his own bell-shaped body, lowered to the floor behind the table with his legs retracted inside. Understandably, the chairs in Quick Rise hadn’t been made to accommodate heavy loads, and even if he somehow managed to fit four of them beneath him, they wouldn’t be strong enough to support his five thousand pound chassis.

He replied with a congenial smile when he heard her name. “Yayama, huh? The pleasure’s all mine, miss.” Although it had been a while now since he worked with Peacock, the gentle giant was well versed when it came to making friends a fraction of his size. “Me? I’m all there is of the most real. They call me Big Band.” Since Yayama hadn’t bought anything for herself, Band deployed a spindly mechanical arm to push his plate across the table. On it were simple cookies in a variety of shapes, each with a dollop of viscous strawberry jam in the middle. Of the seven Band had ordered, five were left. If the heroine didn’t want any, of course, she could just slide the plate right back.

A few minutes later, Kim and Harry arrived. In a coffee shop, positively buoyant with the soothing aromas of coffee beans, the lingering tarry waft of burnt tobacco on the latter’s breath made for a stark contrast. At least he’d managed to find some clothes after escaping from Banishing Flats in little more than his birthday suit, and practically anything was an improvement over the outfit he cobbled together in Martira. “Doin’ all right,” Band told Kim. “And yeah, hit me.” Kim succinctly explained what he’d gleaned about the tournaments, which confirmed some of Band’s suspicions but didn’t offer any new revelations. “Gotcha,” he replied. Between him, Harry, Kim, and Zenkichi, there were perhaps too many cooks in the kitchen. No case needed four detectives; at a certain point, the redundancy just muddied the waters. Of course, starting today they would be doing a lot less sleuthing and a lot more fighting. In the tournaments, they would definitely have strength in numbers.

Pit, Primrose, Therion, and Terry showed up next, and soon after they appeared, Band’s attention drifted to the wall-mounted TV set in Quick Rise. As it happened, a news station was covering the bombing of Banishing Flats last night. He hadn’t been able to identify those responsible himself, but evidently the perpetrators of the attack had been none too subtle, with the clearest indicator being the model of the robots they fielded. G Corporation, Band mused. The company whose boss Ms Fortune stole from yesterday afternoon. At this point, the connection was obvious. Fortune herself probably knew it better than anyone, hence her continued absence. Of course, she hadn’t meant to put her allies or innocents at risk, and her only crime had been not knowing who she was messing with. Still, unless this was some kind of false flag operation, the feral bore a portion of the responsibility. He shook his head at Terry. “No word on Fortune just yet.” Immediately after, Pit then went on to assure Terry that Primrose had Fortune’s arm, which confirmed her survival. Looking a little sheepish, Band cleared his throat. “...I stand corrected.”

As the news story concluded, Band looked around to get a sense of what ordinary Esaka citizens thought. Bombings were a big deal, especially with confirmed casualties, and yet nobody in sight appeared to be especially concerned. Ignorance had been plausible until now, but even after being informed directly, the customers of Quick Rise just didn’t seem to care all that much. They just talked about tournament results, their favorite fighters, patch notes, a recent brawl in the Mid Tier between giant dragons, and of course the upcoming brackets. Band just stared in muted astonishment at the nonchalance that surrounded him, his brows furrowed. Were the people of Esaka really that desensitized to death, convinced by the city’s quick respawns that it didn’t really matter? Or was everything else, including the lives and deaths of fellow citizens, just background noise compared to their hyperfixation on entertainment? It was a worrisome and frankly chilling realization. If his chat with Zenkichi last night hadn’t convinced him that Esaka was sick, this definitely would have.

The appearance of Sakura and Amaterasu helped bring Band back to reality. Not even Sakura’s sunny attitude could dispel the cloud hanging over the table, though. She suggested that the attack could have something to do with Moebius, which had occurred to Band as well, albeit as a remote possibility. “Not impossible,” he allowed. “After yesterday, there’s no tellin’ how many people saw us. By now the consuls gotta have spies all over, watchin’ out for us.” He looked around the table. “Hmm…none o’ y’all actually mentioned the words ‘Seekers of Light’ to anyone yesterday, didja…?” By now, with seven people and one canine, the table was starting to get a little crowded.

It would continue to grow crowded, however, as more familiar faces showed up. The presence of Captain Pit was a given, and he’d expected to see Roland, Primrose, and Therion. Band was somewhat surprised, though, to see Junior and Rika again, having figured that the two would be off on their own adventures for the foreseeable future. They had missed the deadline for tournament registration, after all, so there wasn’t much that they could do in Esaka. Still, better to have the kids where he could see them than off getting into trouble somewhere, since their dad would come knocking sooner or later. Though now that Band could actually see them, he couldn’t help but wonder if Rika looked smaller than he remembered. If he recalled correctly, she was somewhere in her mid to late teens, but now she looked like a pre-teen. Shaking his head, Band wrote it off as him misremembering. When one stood as tall as he did, everyone else was just a different degree of small.

More importantly, the koopa kids came bearing important news. They reported the existence of a sword that could destroy Flame Clocks, as well as the possible location of the Source Engine, the database theorized by the Lost Numbers where everyone’s true essence was kept and copied. It was a lot to take in so quickly, but luckily it wasn’t exactly relevant at the current moment, so Band could put a pin in those thoughts in favor of chuckling at the nature of Galeem’s machinations. “Guess it’s true what they say: there’s nothin’ new under the sun,” he remarked. “Gotta admit, I wasn’t expectin’ our all-powerful light god to be so…derivative.” He scoffed. “Goes to show, ya can’t have an original thought in your head if ya ain’t got a head to begin with.”

He let Roland fill the kids in about the tournaments and the events of the prior night, focusing instead on his coffee and cookies. When Roland mentioned those responsible for the attack, he helped dispel a little more of the mystery, even if that news report practically confirmed it already. “G-Corp, yeah,” Band stated. “The real question is: why. If it’s ‘cause of Ms Fortune, we might be in the clear. But if that was just a pretense to kill us all off, our troubles have only just begun.” When Therion mentioned the operative of another possible party at the scene of the crime last night, things got even more complicated.

Before he could try and summarize the Seekers’ situation, the team captain tried to rally everyone. Having been about to say something more gloomy and ominous, Band smiled, humbled by the angel’s positivity. “That’s the spirit. If our enemies are already resortin’ to dirty tricks, it’s ‘cause they know they can’t beat us in a straight fight. We got this.” Sure, many of them had slept poorly, and some of them not at all, but saving the world was never going to be easy.

The minutes slipped by awfully quickly, and in no time at all, only an hour remained before the new tournament series was scheduled to begin. By the time the Seekers paid and stepped outside, some people were already on the move toward the Pools either to participate in the upcoming fights, or just to watch. Compared to Top 24 and especially Top 8, the Pools wouldn’t see much viewership, but there were still plenty of Esakans who wanted to watch lesser-known fighters in person before the pot monsters all got weeded out. Speaking of monsters, the city’s resident yokai had shown up as well. They gathered around benches, eaves, and street corners where faint, wispy channels of spiritual energy flowed, chatting excitedly. Soon these ethereal streams would be live, granting remote visions of random Pools matches to anyone who stuck their head in.

Right now, though, the populace was mostly focused on the bulletin boards scattered around the city. As Band watched, golden light welled up from the cobblestones and washed across the nearest board, becoming letters and symbols that revealed the long-awaited tournament brackets. It took a few minutes for him to puzzle it out, but eventually the bracket for the World Warrior tournament revealed that his own first Pools match would be against someone named Rasputin. This name meant nothing to him, of course, but some Esakans were so familiar with the tournament scene that they could start devising strategies against their prospective opponents on the spot. The bigger concern for him was that he would need to win six fights over the course of the next few days in order to even reach Top 8, with even more battles awaiting him if he fell into the Losers’ Bracket, if he understood correctly.

The detective whistled. “Whew. Well…ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Each matchup had a number beside it, representing an arena somewhere in the Pools where the fight would take place. He and the others had an hour to get ready and get up to Esaka’s second tier, though how they spent it was up to them.

---

Though it was easy enough to throw in a smile, Nadia remained uneasy after stepping out onto the street from Annie’s apartment. The rational part of her mind, minute though it was, assured her that Kazuya and his minions couldn’t possibly know where she was, or they would have finished her off already. It insisted that they couldn’t do anything in broad daylight, with so many fighters around and the city’s defense system (those towering aurumatons) already on high alert. Yet, as reasonable as these notions were, they couldn’t quell the turmoil that bubbled up inside her, like a cookpot threatening to overflow. She couldn’t help but be reminded of the little motes of prismatic light that dotted that smoking ruin, of the people who died or nearly died because of her, and each pang of guilt hurt like a knife to the heart.

Her distress didn’t overcome her, but it did slow her down as the walked along the Middle Tier’s streets, enough that she fell behind Annie several times. The first time, her new friend stopped to wait for her, her manner patient even if her face looked irritated. The second time, Annie reached back, took her by the hand, and pulled her along. The third time, in front of a grocery store called Bread and Butter, Annie threw up her hands as she rolled her eye. “Alright, I give. If you’re gonna stay all mopey, I’m just gonna head to the dojo. Filia and Beowulf both need last-minute training anyway…”

“No, sorry, I’m just…” Nadia squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head, then opened them again. “Just a little distracted. I’ll be fine, okay?” She gave a carefree grin. “Fur real!”

Annie glowered. “Yuck. Quit it.” When Nadia stared at her, questioningly, the girl in green elaborated. “I’m an actress, remember? I’ve been around the block a few times, and I know a fake smile when I see it. Who’re you trying to fool?” The feral balked, recoiling as if struck, and Annie took a deep breath before crossing her arms. “Sorry. But look. It’s okay to not be okay. Who’d be okay after getting blown up and nearly losing their friends? But you’re not gonna feel any better if you bury your feelings behind a fake smile. Trust me on this one.”

Slowly, Nadia’s smile faltered. Her ears drooped, her posture worsened, and her gaze dropped to the ground. She looked miserable. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out, and she closed it again. She’d managed to pick herself up and leave Annie’s apartment with the help of a couple trite axioms, but now those feeble attempts at comfort rang hollow in her ears. “Ms Fortune is supposed to be unstoppable,” she murmured with a helpless giggle. “Heeehee…s-someone who springs up from every fall with a witty joke and a smile on her face. But…here I am.” She slumped down against the wall by the grocery store’s window. “That’s biggest joke of all.”

“We all wear masks from time to time.” Nadia looked up at Annie, who was staring off into the distance with crossed arms. Her face betrayed nothing. “It’s how we get through life. But we need to remember that we aren’t our masks. That human beings are way, way more complicated than that. And that’s fine.”

The feral slowly let her head fall, and rested it in her hand. A couple minutes passed. When Nadia looked up again, she expected Annie to be gone, but the girl was still there. She glanced down at Nadia, her expression nonplussed. “What? Got something to say? I’m not a therapist, you know, so I don’t have to sit and listen to you feel sorry for yourself. If that’s what you want, go pay someone to do it at Infinite Worth.” She gestured at a psychiatric office across the street, and did not flinch when the catgirl fixed her with an angry expression. “We don’t have all day. You gonna come find some clothes with me, or not?”

Chuckling, Nadia wiped her eyes and got to her feet. “Wow. You sure have a way with words. Maybe I will come, just to spite you.”

“Suit yourself.” Annie turned and marched off, and Nadia followed her, shaking her head. She wasn’t going to get over these tumultuous feelings of hers any time soon, but life had to go on. For now, with just this acerbic stranger for company, maybe it’d be okay to not be okay for a while.

The two spent another twenty minutes traveling through the Middle Tier. Nadia found herself on the receiving end of an unusual number of odd looks. In recent weeks, she’d become more accustomed to stares of astonishment and admiration thanks to her new looks, but now Esakans side-eyed her (and her stump in particular) like she was a freak. It seemed like Esaka wasn’t a place people expected to see physical disabilities. Pretty much everyone here was an able-bodied fighter, many with superhuman physiques; it was rare enough to even see someone who happened to be overweight, among women in particular. In such an environment, her missing left arm was apparently a strange sight. People didn’t point and stare -in part because there were so few children, young children especially- but the keen-eyed feral noticed nonetheless. Her first instinct was to not let it bother her, and to instead greet such stares with a cheerful smile. Instead, she let herself scowl at them. She wasn’t happy about it, either! As it turned out, getting upset felt pretty good, actually.

Eventually, she and Annie reached Button Check, and the two went inside. When she stepped in, Nadia was wowed by the rows and rows of clothing items on display, briefly stunned by both the quantity and variety. There were more shirts, shorts, skirts, shoes, and jackets than she could imagine, let alone want. Since this apparel shop stocked clothing of both contemporary and retro styles, pretty much everything was new to a scion of the art deco era. What drew her eye most, though, was the section labelled ‘Greatest Hits’. It seemed to offer whole outfits designed to mimic the iconic attire of famous Esaka fighters, many in different color variations, with prices that matched their jaw-dropping looks. Nadia marveled, wide-eyed, at the gold jewelry and black leather of Dolores, two-time King of Fighters title holder, then considered the trendy baseball cap, tank top, and jacket of Isla. When she came upon a familiar-looking combo of black leather jacket and blue chaps, her eyes lit up with recognition. “Ángel,” she read, instinctively pronouncing the name correctly. “So that was her name.”

“Hmm?” Annie looked over.

Nadia tapped the image of a spunky luchadora attached to the outfit’s tag. “This chick. Way back in Carnival Town, I fus-” She blinked at Annie, who was still gleaming. “Uh, fought with her. Even picked up a couple of her moves! Better keep an eye on me in the tournament~”

Annie shrugged as she turned away. “Uh huh.”

Both quickly got distracted by an ad playing on one of the in-store TVs nearby. It was the debut video for a new fighter in the Tekken tournament by the name of Miary Zo from a country called Madagascar. Nadia had never heard of it, which was to be expected really, but it did have impressively huge trees. “Sure, I could tell ya I have the power of a fighting god,” she said, flipping around before landing in a cutesy monster pose. ”Or I could show ya with my fists!” She went on to summon effulgent blue snakes, a magical lemur tail, and a staff that she spun around like a dancer as she beat up a couple random people. “Wow, she’s pretty,” Nadia remarked.

“Pretty excessive,” Annie snorted, her arms crossed.

The catgirl gave her the side-eye. “Oh no, do you have a complex or something?”

“The ffff-UDGE are you talking about?” Seemingly unable to belt out an actual swear word, Annie turned away, annoyed. “Whatever. It’s gonna be a while before her outfit goes on sale anyway, so you’re gonna have to find something else?

Nadia looked farther down the King of Fighters row. “Hmm…oh! How about this?”

Annie eyed her suggestion idly. “Oh, that guy’s outfit? I never liked that creep…” She gave Nadia another look. “You could make it work. Maybe. You’d have to cut it up to work with your whole separation gimmick” She shrugged. “You could do worse.”

“From you, that’s high praise.” Nadia snickered, then went into the changing room to try it on. A minute later, she emerged dressed from head to toe in a black tie-up onesie and donkey brown overcoat, her face obscured in the shadow of her hood except for the electric blue glow of her eyes. Somehow, the costume had tailored itself her body, so there was no question of it fitting or not–just if she liked the look. “I can slice the sleeves off, and turn the pants into shorts,” she said, examining herself in a provided mirror. “It’s perfect. The perfect look for my heel turn! What do you think?”

A very dubious look greeted her. “It’s great you’re feeling better already, but I don’t think you should romanticize this rough patch you’re going through…” she began.

“Say no more!”

Without further ado Nadia purchased the outfit and walked out in it, her borrowed clothes from Annie returned in projectile form. The Girl of the Stars followed her out, pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her head.

Spire 04 - Orca Space Complex

Lvl 9 Sandalphon (41/90) Level 6 Heismay (44/60)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double, Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2279

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 6/8 | 🛡️: 5/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat

While Sandalphon, Adam, and everyone else inside the stagecoach clung to the inner wall meshes for dear life, not at all eager to be bounced around or battered by loose cargo, the rest of the Seekers contended with the breakneck chaos of the hypertube outside. Once obstacles began to appear in their path, what had once been relatively smooth sailing turned into a mad scramble to avoid head-on collisions. The debris that cluttered the high-tech tunnel could more or less be dodged, jumped, flown over, or smashed through depending on the Seeker involved, so long as he or she possessed the requisite reaction time. Surviving the hypertube got trickier, though, when stretches of it devolved into a battleground where Naytiba minions and residual Orca robotics skirmished for control of the area.

Fortunately, the way corpses tended to disintegrate in the World of Light meant that Skullings rarely managed to infest host bodies, but the verminous cephalopods could still do some damage if they managed to latch onto someone. The bigger challenge turned out to be the airborne Cymuls, not because they strove to attack the Seekers, but because their metallic chassis were essentially silver wrecking balls that floated right in the travelers’ path, to say nothing of the buzz saws they became when they spun up their bladed legs for combat.

These troublesome machines certainly gave Heismay a rude awakening. Thanks to the strong air current in the hypertube, the hermit had been able to glide close to its center without much effort on his part, but when Cymuls began to appear, his lack of actual flight experience came back to bite him. Hasty attempts to swerve to one side or the other and avoid the chrome deathtraps resulted in panicked overcorrection, and after veering much too close to one side of the hypertube he could scarcely avoid swooping too far back the other way. He dared not slow down though, since the stagecoach behind him was getting closer all the time, and the last thing he wanted was to get run over.

Eventually, Heismay’s crash course in aerodynamics culminated in a lesson learnt the hard way: when he veered left to dodge a Cymul, which only he spotted in the nick of time thanks to its unmistakable metallic glint, his wing clipped a rogue cargo crate. “Gah!” Blindsided by the hit, he spun out of control, no longer flying but falling. The next second he hit the floor and rolled, bouncing several times. Luckily his lightweight body and solid bones meant that his tumble didn’t break anything, but after a moment it became clear that he wasn’t going to slide to a stop any time soon. Instead, thanks to the longsaber sheathed on his back, he got swept away by the magnetic field. Heismay zoomed through the tunnel like a turtle on its back, his limbs flailing in the air as he yelled.

Just when his initial terror seemed close to wearing off, and his slide about to stabilize, a glancing blow from some a ticker sent him spinning. “Bah!” Heismay gritted his teeth as the ticker blew up somewhere behind him, bending his arms down to try and seize some semblance of control with his claws fingers against the metal of the hypertube. In doing so, though, he saw more obstacles up ahead. At this rate it would be a full-on crash, with no chance of escaping the magnetic field in time. He could think of only one thing to try, and had no more time to think of something. “Here goes nothing!” In a flash of orange Heismay became his Assassin archetype, and not a second too soon. The Archetype’s large, sturdy metal form smashed through the debris with ease, prompting a profound sigh of relief from Heismay. As he evened out, he pressed his legs together and folded his arms across his chest, as if he were hanging upside down from a rafter, in order to ride the hypertube like a water slide. In that way he managed to shoot through the tunnel until the end of the hypertube appeared in the distance.

As the Seekers neared the end, barriers directed traffic away from the ceiling and walls and toward the floor, where several sets of slow panels with red backward-pointing arrows could reduce their velocity as the hypertube’s air current petered out. Anyone still in the air and above those panels would have to slow down via other methods, but at least the area beyond the exit seemed quite big. No longer cushioned by the magnetic field, Heismay exited the hypertube and quickly ground to a stop, sparks flying from where his Archetype’s armor met the ground. He reverted to normal the next moment, but lay there on his back for a little while longer, dazedly staring up at the dark, cloudy sky of the Frozen Highlands. The team’s wild ride was over, but it would be another minute or two before his heart finally slowed down. “...Well,” he croaked. “Twas much more than I bargained for.” He sat up at last, propping himself up with his hands. “Is everyone still in one piece?”

Eve walked his way, her concern evident on her face. The swordswoman had arrived first, and judging by her pristine condition she’d suffered no crashes or tumbles along the way. “I’m all good,” she reported, helping him up. “Though, I’m less certain about Adam and the others…”

After a quick look around, it seemed like everyone had made it through the hypertube intact, though precious few Seekers had made it unscathed. Some had made a solid effort to keep the stagecoach safe, but perfection was an elusive thing. One of the coach’s front wheels had disappeared at some point, and its armor took a few hits, leaving the once spotless black steel even more banged up than before. With the distribution of remaining wheels it could probably still travel, although with insufficient Reindrix to pull it along it wouldn’t be going anywhere fast now that it was back on solid ground.

As Heismay scrutinized the immediate area for enemies, and found no immediate threats, the stagecoach’s door creaked open. Sandalphon hobbled out with the aid of her gunstaff, sporting a couple fresh bruises. A quick look inside would confirm that some of the expedition gear and materials hanging from the wagon’s ceiling mesh had been shaken loose during the hypertube ride. Those loose objects now lay scattered around the stagecoach’s floor in complete disarray, along with Adam, who nursed a painful-looking bump on his head. A quick incantation of Angelic Praise from Sandalphon would remedy the pair’s injuries, along with any suffered by the Seekers outside during their tube ride, after which Sandalphon used External Information Network to the area. “No Naytibas nearby,” she announced.

“A welcome surprise,” Heismay muttered as he headed over. “Everything alright?”

The archangel’s pupils turned from radar scanners back to stress marks as she attempted to straighten her hair. “Can’t complain,” she lied. When Eve approached to check on Adam, she stepped aside to let her climb inside the stagecoach, then looked around.

According to the map she’d memorized earlier, the Seekers were now in the Space Logistics Complex, and what she now saw certainly fit the bill. It was a sprawling facility somewhere between a shipyard and an air cargo terminal, with giant cargo containers stacked high enough to form walls four or five stories high, complimented by dozens of heavy-duty cranes, lifts, and loaders. Beyond this freight depot lay the processing center, where everything bound for the space elevator would be loaded into a massive, labyrinthine auto-sorting system of conveyor belts, chutes, lifts, robot arms, and security laser grids. There was a public access checkpoint on one side, where the people who arrived here by hypertube could enter the main facility while their luggage entered the cargo system, but in addition to a shut gate there appeared to be a five lane gridlock blocking the gate, which would need to be cleared if the stagecoach were to go through. Over it all towered Raphael Space Center, tantalizingly close. Only by craning her neck now could Sandalphon peer up to where the space elevator disappeared into the clouds.

♫

“Right.” The archangel looked around. “Firstly, I imagine that everyone could use a short break after such an unorthodox method of travel. There are, however, several matters that require our attention. In order to continue progressing, we’ll need to open the way forward. A physically capable volunteer should rearrange the vehicles over there to make way for the stagecoach. I can investigate the checkpoint to see if it can be opened on this side, but if I am unsuccessful it may be necessary for a team to navigate the cargo system to reach the other side. Needless to say, I recommend avoiding the security lasers.” She then turned her attention to the Seekers’ ride. “We cannot neglect the stagecoach any longer, though. The wheels and armor require replacement and maintenance, respectively. And…the interior is a mess, as well. Edward.” Sandalphon addressed the team’s tactician directly. “Our coal and electricity reserves should be sufficient to utilize the technology gleaned from Whitey Hooten. It is up to you to design and manufacture new draft animals using the samples we’ve collected. Feel free to request additional help as you see fit. Whatever you do, stay alert. The Naytiba that attacked us is still alive, and it will attack again.”

As the Seekers began to disperse to attend to their various tasks, Adam remained by the stagecoach, perturbed. While Sandalphon’s miracle had restored him, the same couldn’t be said for the equipment he used to remotely control his drone, which the hypertube had jostled in transit. “It’ll be a little longer before my rig’s operational again.”

“I could accompany some of our new friends on another foray,” Eve ventured, her arms crossed thoughtfully. “But perhaps I should remain here this time, in case that Naytiba returns.”

Adam shrugged. “Suit yourself. Maybe there’s a can or two around here for you to collect.”

Eve’s eyebrows rose. “Ooh, maybe.” She took another look around. “Though, according to that message we received, Lily should be holed up somewhere near here.” The thought made Eve frown. “Hmm…with dangerous Naytibas around, we can’t very well leave her to fend for herself.”

“That’s true,” Adam admitted. “I’ll try and ping her. If I get a response, you’ll be the first to know.”

Eve nodded. “Thanks.”

Although a break sounded pretty good to Heismay, he couldn’t allow himself to rest when he spotted Sandalphon already on her way to the security checkpoint, all on her lonesome. He accompanied her the rest of the way as an escort, hopping between the roofs of the abandoned cars. Despite his new parka, he still found himself shivering when the chill wind picked up and flurries of snow blew around the Logistics Center. “It’s damnably cold,” he complained. “More so than this morning, I’d wager.”

“That would fit the narrative surrounding the Highlands’ eternal night, but for everyone’s sake I hope it is mere coincidence,” Sandalphon replied. Once she reached the security booth, she slipped inside to access the terminal.

Heismay, meanwhile, climbed up the structure until he reached the top of the gate. If the gate couldn’t be opened from this side, after all, what was stopping him, or one of the team’s fliers, from simply going over to access the far side? Once he crested the top of the wall, he got a clear view of the land ahead. The area between the Space Logistics Complex and the Raphael Space Center was almost destroyed, with strange armored vehicles and blazing flames littered about, as well as some large holes in the roadway through which churning water was visible. Before he could see any gate controls on this side, he saw several red laser pointers that locked onto him from different angles as a half-dozen contaminated guard turrets took aim. “Oh.” Heismay jumped down just in time to avoid the first magnetically-accelerated slug as it zoomed over the wall and slammed into the landscape behind where he’d been, violently exploding with enough raw force to blast an armored car to smithereens. The noise and shockwave startled a handful of cone-wearing crustaceans that had been hiding out near the traffic jam, as well as a stocky red-and-white bird rummaging through smaller packages piled by the cargo center.

As Sandalphon stared through the security booth window, eyes wide, Heismay dropped down in front of her. “We may have a problem,” he posited. When Sandalphon said nothing, frozen, he coughed into a balled fist. “Er…any luck with the gate?”

Sandalphon’s pupils turned from empty rings back to their normal power symbols. “No. Just a training program for document inspectors.” She gestured toward the computer screen, which displayed a security simulation. “It does mention some sort of reward for trainees who perform well enough, but my time is better spent elsewhere.” With her task here concluded, Sandalphon exited the booth to return to the stagecoach and help reorganize its interior. Heismay followed, his gaze upward as he kept an eye out for any other guard turrets.

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

Esaka’s Middle Tier

Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (166/150) Level 11 Big Band (60/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Zenkichi’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
Word Count: 1774 / 1090

Her ears rang. Her head swam. Despite the comfortable numbness steadily built up by years of near-constant muscle stretching, bloodletting, scar opening, and other such reckless misuses of her supernatural physiology, every inch of her body was alight with pain. When that robot detonated, it didn’t just erupt into flames; its metallic body also turned it into a giant fragmentation grenade. For a time, it was a mercy that she couldn’t open her eyes to see the state she was in. She could only bear the pain as her scorched parts instinctively sought one another, slowly pulling themselves together as the Life Gem knit new flesh to patch her body up, piece by piece. Things slowly shifted around to where they should be, and foreign objects were expelled. All the while, she was only dimly aware of her upper half dragging itself away through the rubble with one arm. More explosions went off in the background that sounded more distant than they were, and foul, acrid smells filled her nose.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Nadia tentatively opened her eyes and found that she’d somehow made it into the park behind the motel. She lay at the foot of a tree, partially hidden by a verdant bush, and her parts lay scattered around her upper half. Gingerly she reattached them, mindful of the half-healed wounds that still covered her form. One of her ears was bent and hurt when she tried to straighten it. Where was her left arm? She couldn’t see it or feel it anywhere. The fingers of her left hand wouldn’t respond when she tried to flex them. Groaning, Nadia looked herself over. Miraculously her clothes had survived the blast, but that was little comfort. Her stylish outfit was ruined beyond repair, and it would probably take a trip back to Gerudo town and Yuria’s mystical tailor shop to get a new set. Of course, that was the least of her concerns right now. Where was her linkpearl…?

Desperate for relief, she pulled the Ripened Heart from its pouch and pressed it to her chest to speed up her recovery as she raised her head to take in the awful scene before her. In the aftermath of the Jack-5s’ assault, Banishing Flats was a blasted, burning ruin. That grotesque, desecrated parody of its former glory, painted in ash, was deeply hideous to her. Were those ashes mere soot from the burning building, or from the bodies of innocents killed in the attack? How many belonged to her fellow Seekers?

Her heart, calmed by the dulling pain, began to race again as ice-cold horror clawed her brain stem. In the heat of the moment Nadia hadn’t recognized those robots, but now she remembered why they looked so familiar. She’d seen several out in front of that G-Corp skyscraper, standing guard. And she’d stolen from their master, Kazuya Mishima. The main Terry called a devil. She’d already realized that this must be his doing, his revenge for her theft. Which meant…that this was all her fault.

A shaky laugh rattled its way out of her chest. She staggered upright, using the tree trunk behind her for support. Gritting her teeth, she clamped her palm to her eye socket, then shook her head. “No…no…” Surely the others survived the attack as well. They weren’t the caliber of heroes who could be killed in a cheap surprise attack like this…right? But even if they survived, it was still her fault for putting them in jeopardy. The blood of everyone else in Banishing Flats -that Mecha Zangief at a minimum- was on her hands. Guilt rose in her throat like bile, thick and heavy. She wanted to totter back toward the motel to see if the others were okay, and help however she could, but shame held her captive. Wracked by sudden coughing, she turned, head bowed, and ran away.

Her heart pumped in her chest, its rhythm accelerated by the iron grip of terror that squeezed it like a stress ball. Her breaths were sharp, serrated even, leaving her throat raw and ragged as they tore from her lungs. Her body ached from burns, bruises, and slash wounds, the Life Gem running low on juice. Her sore feet pounded the asphalt pavement and concrete sidewalks as she darted and dodged through Esaka. Nadia didn’t know where she was going. Only that she needed to get away. As she went, though, she became more and more convinced that someone was pursuing her. After sprinting down a brightly lit street, her panicked adrenaline flagging, she stumbled against a chain link fence. When she looked over her shoulder, her nervous gaze landed on the giant fang-toothed mascot of Shark Wars, then turned toward the burly, shadowy figure silhouetted by the glare of the CesariO ad above it. “Just…” Nadia gasped, forcing out each word like a hairball. “Just leave me alone!”

“Whoa, whoa, easy! It’s me!” As the figure advanced, Nadia saw that it wasn’t a Jack-5 at all, but a familiar burly, hairy guy in a wolf pelt, hastily thrown on over a white tank top and flannel pajama pants. It was Beowulf, the good-natured wrestler she met at the NMO dojo that morning alongside Annie, Filia, and Robo-Fortune. For a washed-up has-been pushing forty, he was certainly a sight for sore eyes. “I heard a commotion,” he explained, carefully approaching with his hands held out for placation. “When I went to see what happened, I thought I saw you runnin’ away. And here you are!” His smile faded as his brows scrunched together. “What happened? You look awful!”

Nadia couldn’t help but laugh as the last bit of fight drained from her. She slumped toward him, and luckily he managed to catch her before she fell. “Beowulf…” she coughed. “I screwed up…”

“Easy, easy. It’s okay. Uh…where’s your arm?” He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, then took a deep breath and scooped her up into his arms. “N-nevermind. Let’s get you to the dojo, it’s just down the road. Annie’ll know what to do.”

---

Five hours later, Nadia’s crusty eyes slowly opened as she awoke on the couch in the apartment owned by Annie. The celebrated Girl of the Stars lived simply, frugally, and joylessly, as it turned out. It lacked decor and luxury, without the faintest hint of its sole tenant’s storied film career. Annie’s apartment could just as easily have belonged to a divorced accountant in her fifties. Her couch had been comfortable enough though, and Nadia couldn’t thank Annie enough for letting her stay here (or for giving her a spare white t-shirt and gray sweatpants to wear, even if they were too small), but she’d slept terribly, kept on edge by the possibility of another attack and the guilt that needled her heart. Her eyes darted between the door and the windows, every moment spent dreading the arrival of more Jack-5’s.

According to the clock on the wall, it was now nearly seven AM. Only two hours until the tournament started, she remembered, although now competing in an event like that sounded like hell. For the most part, her wounds had healed, although the depletion of the Life Heart’s power left her a lot more scarred than usual. Those burns in particular were stubborn; it would probably be days before her skin recovered completely. Her left arm was still missing, and while she could feel it again, the catgirl had no idea where it was. Part of her needed to know that the other Seekers were okay, but how could Nadia show her face around them again? How could they ever forgive her? Better that she lost her linkpearl, and better yet the Seekers think she died in that explosion, claimed by karmic justice.

“Ohh…when am I gonna learn my lesson…?” With a long, low groan, Nadia sat up on the couch. She tried to rub her eyes, got confused when it only worked on one side, and then remembered that her left arm was gone. “I’ve got nothing ‘left’,” she muttered, laughing weakly. “But now…guess I’ll be…all right! Heeheehee…”

Standing in the doorway in mint-green PJs, Annie pursed her lips, her brow over her remaining eye furrowed in concern. “You-”

“Ack!” Nadia jumped up out of the couch in fright, her tail scared stiff.

“...You probably ought to see a doctor,” Annie finished before walking across the apartment living room toward the kitchen.

The feral held her head in her hand. “I’m okay, seriously. Come back from worse than this be-fur.”

“Uh huh.” Annie opened a cupboard to retrieve two bowls, spoons, and a box of Throw Loops cereal, which she proceeded to pour. She slid the bowl across the counter toward Nadia as the catgirl got up. “Here. Gonna need all the strength you’ve got for Mortal Kombat today. ‘Specially if you only have one arm.” She gave her guest the side-eye, unsurprised, as she groaned again. “Unless you’re gonna throw in the towel. Honestly, nobody could blame you.”

Nadia sifted through the cereal in her bowl with her spoon, squeezing her eyes shut. After a moment, she made her choice. “Nah. Even if I’m off the team, I still got a job to do. Maybe…if I win Mortal Kombat for ‘em, the others might let me back.”

“It’d probably help,” Annie told her with a shrug.

Her nonchalance prompted a chuckle from Nadia. :”Wow, so motivational. Aren’t you, like, the coach or something?”

“No? I just know better than everyone else,” Annie gave her a wry smile. “I know that sounds…egotistical, but c’mon. You’ve met Beowulf.”

Nadia nodded solemnly. “Classic himbo.”

“Robo-fortune is…yeah.” Annie grimaced. “And Filia, she’s sweet, bless her heart, but I swear. That parasite on her head must be sucking out her brain juice or something…”

At that, the feral could only giggle helplessly. “If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, I guess it’s workin’.”

Annie did not crack a smile. “Do I look like I’m kidding around? Whatever, good for you. Hurry and eat up. Got to go find yourself a new outfit. I’m not having you get fatalitied in my favorite sweats.”

“Okay, okay.” Nadia sighed and put a spoonful of Throw Loops in her mouth. Last night had been awful, and maybe broken some things beyond repair, but Nadia Fortune was never somebody to roll over and die. No choice but to play the hand she was dealt, and make better choices next time.

If nothing else, she still had a lot of money!

---

Elsewhere in Esaka, other Seekers were gathering themselves. Compared to Ms Fortune, Yayama, Harry, and many of the others, Big band hadn’t suffered as rude an awakening the night before. While the Jack-5s came out in force, there hadn’t been nearly enough to assign one to every tenanted room in Banishing Flats, since that would have been overkill even if the organizers of the raid cared to find out that figure. As such, Band had been stirred awake not by a sudden break-in, but by the sounds of bangs, crashes, and yells around him. Having slept within the confines of the elaborate iron lung that constituted his body as always, the detective was ready for action at a moment’s notice–all he needed to do was put on his hat and barge out the door.

Of course, by then the hallways had plenty of people in them, mostly unfamiliar motel customers headed for the nearest exit. Since they were all fighters in their own right, the Seekers clashing with Jack-5s throughout the premises would soon find their numbers bolstered by reinforcements. Angry at being woken up, many of the Banishing Flats’ resident grapplers lent their strength to the motel’s defense. With the destruction already perpetrated by the rampaging robots, all bets were off. Unwary Jack units would be subjected to powerbombs, DDTs, chokeslams, bulldogs, and fireman’s carries, the grapplers giving as good as they got.

For his part, Band tried to convince folks to evacuate instead. As fellow Seekers communicated over the team linkpearls, he headed for the nearest fire exit and stood guard there, beckoning others his way by playing his bagpipes. Only once did step forward to confront a Jack-5 to give others a chance to slip out through the door, using the armor given by his bagpipes to weather a blow before he pummeled the thing to pieces with Super Sonic Jazz. He couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that there must be more to this raid than met the eye, and it wasn’t long before his intuition proved to be correct.

Once the first bomb went off in the lobby, the lodgers became less eager to fight and more eager to flee. Band joined the hurried exodus as one explosion rocked Banishing flats after another. Bit by bit his fellow Seekers escaped the pandemonium as well, their heroic efforts gradually rendered more risk than reward as guests escaped and the building burned, increasingly unstable. In the wake of the disaster they grouped up across the street, crowding with bystanders to the sidelines as the fire department rolled in.Before long, every Seeker who’d elected to stay in Banishing Flats was accounted for.

Everyone except Ms Fortune. And as the Seekers scattered to find somewhere else to sleep, and night slowly turned to morning, they found neither hide nor hair of the resident catgirl.

While Band lacked the knowledge provided by Yoshimitsu that connected the Jacks to Kazuya, he could think of one good reason why a third party with ample military resources might decide to raid Banishing Flats that night, and the cat burglar in particular. Had Kazuya’s henchmen successfully eliminated their target? Or had Ms Fortune scarpered, leaving her comrades to their deaths? Band relished neither possibility. A good detective, never ruled out other possibilities, though. If Esaka really did house the Forbidden Kingdom’s guardian, Moebius had a vested interest in the place, and could very well have eyes and ears anywhere, not to mention resources to spare when it came to trying to exterminate their foes. The person or people responsible for tipping the Seekers’ enemies off could have been anyone that any of them interacted with throughout the day, from Investigator Azuma to Madam Bo to Xilgrev. In enemy territory, anything was possible.

Band spent the night down in Low Tier, hiding out in the basement of the defunct dojo he claimed that morning, Metal Revolution. His giant brass body needed no special accommodations, after all, even if the dusty cellar was dark and uncomfortable. Once the day dawned, the detective marched up the stairs and into the morning light to greet the new day. It wouldn’t be long now until the new tournament circuit began. Today and tomorrow would be dedicated to pools, with the last rounds of qualifiers fought on Saturday and the prestigious Top 8 matches held on Sunday. Most Seekers probably wouldn’t fight more than a couple matches each day, but since two losses were all it would take to be eliminated, they’d need to make every last bout count. As such, they’d need to reconvene for a hearty breakfast, not to mention discuss the events of last night.

“Mornin’, y’all,” Band said into his linkpearl. The others might not be early risers like him, but nobody could afford to oversleep today. “What d’y’all say we meet back up for breakfast? I reckon we could all use some friendly faces today.” It went without saying that since Pao Pao was at the very edge of the Low Tier, it would probably be safer than up where the powers that be were concentrated. Then again, it might be safest just to not meet up at all, but if the enemy made the team too cautious to work together, they might just as well have already won. Provided that Captain Pit agreed, any Seekers inclined to meet could determine somewhere to eat.

Though never a careless man, Big Band was extra careful today. In addition to being in a new and unfamiliar city, the heroes had now survived an attempt on their lives, and potentially had targets on their backs. He moved along at a leisurely place, checking every corner and alley. Twenty minutes later, Big Band arrived at the agreed-upon destination: a Low Tier cafe called Quick Rise. Though somewhat small, old-fashioned, and dingy, it seemed to be a local favorite judging by the number of dedicated regulars, and it offered tasty baked goods along with its coffee. The detective parked himself at the biggest table with a big mug of black brew and waited to see who’d show up.

Despite the early hour, the cafe was already buzzing with anticipation for today's tournament. From what Band overheard, the brackets would apparently be revealed at 8 o’clock, one hour before the grand opening of the tournaments. All Four Kings would be present for a televised announcement, and then pools would begin. Though Band had never personally looked forward to the competition, it was hard to remain unaffected by the general excitement.

Spire 04 - Orca Space Complex

Lvl 9 Sandalphon (38/90) Level 6 Heismay (41/60)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double, Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1332

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 7/8 | 🛡️: 6/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat

When Belial hit the first floor, the slam resounded through the facility’s main area, amplified by all the broad, hard surfaces. When the echo died down a moment later, the silence was equally deafening. Sandalphon, the Ace Cadet, Tenna, and Ganondorf all raced to the edge of the hypertube access platform and looked down over the railing, weapons in hand in case the huge, sword-wielding Naytiba wasn’t done yet. As intense as the Seekers’ fight with it had been, it hadn’t lasted very long, and though the others all bore fresh wounds, Sandalphon got the sneaking suspicion that this victory had been too easy. And yet, when they peered down, they found Belial’s body bloody, sparking, and still.

A heavy, mechanical clanking and clatter rang out from behind them. Sandalphon turned to see that one of the hypertube’s three clamps was in the process of unlocking itself, no doubt the work of one of the away teams. In fact, it was the second one to be remotely deactivated, since at some point during the fight the one at the very top had been opened too; she and her comrades had simply been too occupied by the rampaging monster to notice. Fortunately, they’d succeeded in their endeavor to protect the stagecoach and three remaining Reindrix, though whether or not three would be enough to carry them onward was a different story. Unfortunately, Sandalphon felt very confident in her estimation that they could not, especially with an odd number leading to an uneven distribution.

Just then, she spotted movement from the direction of the contaminated Operations Center up at the facility’s highest level. Sectonia, Mokou, and Blazermate were on their way back, none the worse for wear. Based on the timing, they’d been the first to accomplish their assigned task. At a glance she couldn’t tell if Edward or Geralt’s team was the odd one out, but she couldn’t imagine it’d take long for the final lock to open either way. If Sectonia’s trio made such quick work of her own task, maybe those ultra-dense signals were nothing to worry about after all. Then again, it was always hard to gauge enemy toughness with Blazermate around, since she tended to patch them up quickly afterward.

Thinking about that reminded Sandalphon of her own duty. Of the stagecoach defenders, she was the only one essentially unscathed in the wake of Belial’s outrage. She summoned her gunstaff, raised it up, and released a pulse of holy water to heal her comrades up with Angelic Wings. “There, that should do.” Only then, beset by one distraction after another, did it occur to Sandalphon to check Belial’s body again. Surely disintegration has set in by now. When she leaned over the railing to look, however, she found no trace of the Naytiba beyond its spattered blood and the dents on the floor. “I see,” she stated, deadpan. “I’m afraid we haven’t seen the last of that thing.” This was no mere hypothesis, either. Thanks to Galeem’s influence, Belial couldn’t just retreat. It would be back to finish what it started, sooner or later. Armed with a predator’s cunning, it would launch an even deadlier ambush next time–of that, Sandalphon was sure.

Just before Geralt, Heismay, Roxas and Adam’s drone arrived a minute later, the third and final lock began to disengage. Once that massive clamp released its hold, the complicated radial hypertube doors slid open, all eight slices neatly receding into the tube housing. Air began to flow into the tube in great volumes, and light strips came on along the walls of the perfectly rounded tube, including boost pads represented by strips of four bright pink arrows apiece. Edward, Ramattra, and Even showed up afterward, having had the most ground to cover and the hardest puzzle to deal with, at which point Sandalphon succinctly brought them up to speed.

“We were attacked by an unknown Naytiba wielding dual greatswords,” she explained, pulling up her mental image of Belial on a screen for the others to see. “It possessed great power, speed, intelligence, and durability. We were not able to confirm the kill.” She nodded at the stagecoach, her expression grave. “As you can see, it succeeded in killing several Reindrix in an attempt to slow us down.” She then looked at Edward specifically. “I recommend returning the survivors to their Pal Spheres and replacing them with a team of fused creatures once we exit the hypertube. They should be easier to control and less of a liability, since they won’t be gleaming. The design I leave up to you, we should have sufficient DNA samples by now.”

With everyone caught up and the way open, the Seekers just needed to push the stagecoach into the hypertube, then enter it themselves. Sandalphon joined Adam inside the coach, while Heismay clung to the exterior, not wanting to be sucked away by the air currents just yet. Nearby, the ratshaker rat was already hollering, and its cage rattled as it blew in the wind.

The noise was such that Adam needed to raise his drone’s volume for everyone to hear it clearly. “The hypertube walls are generating a low-yield magnetic cushion,” he informed the team. “Like a bullet train. Metallic objects should be able to ride smoothly across it.” His drone turned toward Eve as she stepped toward the entrance. “Eve, want to show them how it’s done?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” she replied cheerfully. Reaching up to her ponytail, she removed her hairpin and transformed it into her monomolecular saber. After she dropped it at the edge and stepped on, a little push-off was all it took to go zooming off into the hypertube, riding her sword like a surfboard.

“See you on the other side!” Adam’s drone sped after her.

Heismay couldn’t help but laugh to himself. “And here I thought Will was the only one crazy enough to ride upon an enchanted blade,” he said with a shake of his head. “Nevertheless, I shall attempt flying, instead. These currents should be more than enough to glide upon.”

A moment later, the stagecoach reached the hypertube. Its metal wheels magnetized to the floor, and the whole thing shot forward as if fired from a canyon. With Edward only barely able to steer it, the coach rode up and down the walls as it rolled along; if he really wanted, he could almost certainly pull a loop-de-loop around the tube’s interior. Before he could get creative, Heismay spread his wings and took to the air, held aloft by the wind tunnel’s currents. His tired old heart raced with exhilaration as he zipped along, unable to suppress his giddiness. “Waaaaaaaaahahahahahaha!”

Before the Seekers could get too comfortable, though, the hypertube ride got a bit more interesting. Here and there lay bits of wreckage from the last shipments through the tube before it was deemed unsafe and sealed off for renovation, including a number of storage containers, pallets, and transport skiffs, all of which would be very injurious if slammed into at high speed. There were also a number of Skulling minor Naytibas skulking about for machines and bodies to infest, only too happy to grab hold of and latch onto intruders as they whooshed by. Worse still were the tickers, which could damage even the stagecoach with their self-destructive explosions, and the extremely durable Cymul drones attempting to combat them. Though durable enough to withstand Naytibas as they sliced them apart with their spinning cutters, the Cymuls were extremely hazardous to both riders and fliers alike, not least because their reflective coating could return projectiles to sender. If they meant to reach the Space Logistics Complex, everyone would need quick reflexes and to stay on their toes.

An Idiot's Dungeon Union

After a moment, the curse inflicted upon the Oracle by the detestable magical amulet wore off, restoring the otherworldly being to its (un)natural form in explosive fashion, so it looked like Schnupfen's efforts did the trick. Unfortunately the Oracle seemed ignorant of the efforts Schnupfen went to in order to dispel the polymorph. Before he could set the record straight, the Oracle began to spout off its adulation for the vicissitudes of fate. With his attempted correction drowned out, Schnupfen quickly gave up and left the oversized siphonophore to its own devices and turned back toward the excavation team to gauge their progress. He paused only to shoot Salbjörg a rather quick look, which managed to convey his smugness despite his current lack of eyes and mouth. That cold-blooded osteomancer could look askance at him all she wanted, but now the shadow had several wins under his belt, several more than her in fact. Schnupfen didn't mind being in the middle of the pack and taking orders from more qualified individuals, but even if he wasn't very prideful, why would he humor Salbjörg's snarky attitude when she only barely edged out Zoppy from last place? If she insisted on disdaining him, she would soon find that when it came to looking down one's nose at people, there was no one more practiced than Schnupfen.

Of course, when it came to sneezing at the dust kicked up by the Oracle's reversion, Salbjörg and Schnupfen were very much alike.

After wiping his massive nose on his rags, the shadow turned to go check on the diggers, only for one of the rats to accost him. He bent down to see what the little fellow wanted, only for his nose to scrunch up and the proffered crumb. He stared in wonderment for a moment, then attempted to hazard a guess as to why a rat might seek him out with such a morsel instead of simply eating it. "...An offering?" he hypothesized. As gifts went it was a rather squalid, not to mention unnecessary for a being such as him, but Schnupfen had to assume this was the product of good intentions plus harmless naivety. "How...thoughtful." Rather than simply inform his considerate companion that he needed no sustenance, though, Schnupfen saw an opportunity to be dramatic. "You are too kind, little one. But you and yours have far more need of its nutrients than I. It is yours to enjoy."

With other matters out of the way, most of the dungeon keepers turned their attention toward excavation. It was already painfully clear that progress would be intolerably slow, even if the physically incapable team members lent a hand. At the same time, though, he reached the same conclusion that Salbjörg had: with the dungeon in this state, there wasn't really anything else he could do. He couldn't fashion rubble into structures or decorations, so until the keepers actually had room to work with, there would be little to occupy Schnupfen's time unless his lent his meager strength to the dig. With a hollow, ethereal sigh, like the death rattle of a mortally wounded soldier resigned to his fate, Schnupfen floated forward to help. He couldn't offer much, but it would be hard to do worse than he did the first time.

---

Throughout the next few days, Schnupfen was consistently in the running for coveted title of 'most miserable monster alive', his claim only hindered by the ambiguity of whether or not a shadow could be considered 'alive' in the first place. Unlike most of the dungeon's laborers, he didn't have muscles to tear, or bones to break, or lungs to gasp from exhaustion, but the shadow suffered in his own way. For a weak but cerebral entity like him, the task was not only mind-numbingly boring, but agonizingly frustrating. Despite his best efforts, his lackluster strength made little headway against the unyielding rock, no matter where or how he applied himself. And as if the interminable drudgery wasn't bad enough by itself, the stone seemed to actively resist its assailants, rebelling against them in puzzling and frankly impossible ways. As such, Schnupfen's first and foremost contribution to the project was complaining, which unlike digging was something he happened to be extremely proficient at. While he seldom cast aspersions at his fellow dungeon keepers or his hard-working subordinates, everything else was fair game. Even if the others failed to find an inspiring sense of unity in their commiseration with him, at bare minimum his more sadistic colleagues might find solace in knowledge that Schnupfen was having a truly awful time.

After an abundance of blood, sweat, tears, and mental breakdowns, though, the motley crew of horrors and halfwits had something on their hands that could actually pass for a dungeon. Maybe. Improvements and renovations would be a constant as long as this glorified warren existed, but for now at least it wasn't as shameful a hallway as it had been to start with. Unfortunately, even this failed to bring Schnupfen much joy. The shadow was glum and disconsolate, the concentric collapse of his bulbous eyes slow as molasses, their neon colors deep-fried. When actual rooms took shape in the dungeon and keepers began to stake their claims, Schnupfen quickly made it apparent that there would be no such thing as 'privacy' with an entity like him around, to whom walls and other barriers were mere suggestions. Of course, some of his peers found that they could counter him by threatening him with magic, after which he graciously decided to give them their space. Schnupfen claimed no territory of his own, of course; as he told Muste before, the darkness was his mattress, and the cobwebs his sheets.

Of course, now that there was actually room to work with, the main task that concerned him -and those among his coworkers who were capable of rational thought- would be strengthening the dungeon's defenses. Schnupfen could finally peruse the place for the best spot to put down his beloved pitfall trap. He wanted to put it somewhere that intruders would be forced to contend with it, but not so close to the entrance that they could get around it before Kleine alerted the keepers. Schnupfen needed to be around, after all, if he was going to push invaders down that hole, which he wanted more than almost anything. No matter how dangerous an adventurer might be, a long fall would be a one-way trip to Mother Void. Furthermore, the hazard's mere presence nearby would make other tricks and traps much more deadly. A standard force blast, inconvenient but harmless, would be lethal if pointed at a pit. A ranger or rogue could avoid an arrow trap with a well-timed evasive maneuver, but with a hole around to punish panicked dodge rollers, things would be more complicated. If only the keepers had an oil slick, instead of a glue trap! The mere thought of bumbling buffoons sliding straight into the depths brought a spark of joy to Schnupfen's lifeless eyes.

Unfortunately, there was a problem. In a fit of pure, unmedicated genius, Muste had planned out branching paths through the dungeon's center, which meant that prospective intruders could simply choose the pitfall-free path. Having not scrutinized Muste's dungeon blueprint thanks to its unpleasant magical aura, Schnupfen realized the problem much too late to do anything about it. There was also the issue of one way to the dungeon core being much, much shorter than the other, but Schnupfen had his priorities. "This is reprehensible," he muttered, hovering around the central chamber M11 with indecision and displeasure worn on his sleeve. "Perhaps...here?" He loomed over K10, reasoning that he could potentially hide just out of sight at K9 and wait for adventurers to attempt the easy route toward the core. A quick push mid-jump, or even a surprise pull on someone about to jump, could score a kill or two and force others to take the longer alternative route. Then again, the core's proximity would be troublesome, since the defenders would probably amass in the large room just beyond it for their final stand. There would be no room for ghostly subversion with a pack of galoots in plain sight fifteen feet away. "Argh," Schnupfen grumbled, turning around to pass through a north-south wall. Maybe the pitfall at P6, and he could lurk, ready to shove, at P8? But then what if someone did pull an oil trap? Then the hole should go at P7, and the slick at Q7 so that simpletons could slip right into it.

Decisions, decisions.

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

Esaka’s Middle Tier

Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (163/150) Level 11 Big Band (58/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Zenkichi’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
Word Count: 2084

Her heart pumped in her chest, its rhythm accelerated by the icy grip of fear that squeezed it like a stress ball. Her breaths were sharp, serrated even, leaving her throat raw and ragged as they tore from her lungs. Her shoulder burned in an inferno of pain, exacerbated by excessive exertion and lack of treatment. Her sore feet pounded the asphalt pavement and concrete sidewalks as she darted and dodged through the city, every twist and turn another attempt to sever her pursuers’ sight-lines and lose them for good. Her wide eyes saw no people ahead of her, only obstacles and opportunities. At this time of night, there were no crowds large enough to disappear into, nor enough personal effects for her to discreetly snatch in order to put on a disguise. The night that crowned the luminous skyscrapers was dark, but the shadows cast by dumpsters, phone booths, bus stops, and streetlights weren’t dark enough, and the hidey-holes weren’t hidden enough. It had been a while since she stirred up the hornet’s nest, and she’d already paid for it dearly. But the terrible price that her enemies exacted that day hadn’t been enough, and now that they knew of her survival, there was nowhere she could go that the wolves at her heels couldn’t sniff her out.

It wasn’t long before it became clear that the thief, fleeing on foot, couldn’t outrun her foes forever. Not when they had cars to give chase in. She could have lost them in Little Innsmouth, probably, but this part of the city was the Mafia’s territory, and their legbreakers knew it like the backs of their hands. With the wolves closing in, teeth snapping, the thief did what any cat would do and began to climb. She broke into a highrise, sprinted through the lobby, and dove into an elevator. When she reached the top floor a few moments later, she risked a quick look out a window and spotted a half-dozen black automobiles parked by the front door down below. Nobody seemed to be getting in or out of them; her pursuers were already in the building. Gasping for air, her skin slick with sweat, she made for the roof, making quick work of the aged locks in her way. The chilly night wind gave her goosebumps as she ran toward the edge and looked around wildly, searching for any way out that an adjacent building might offer. On one side, it would be a hard climb up a sheer brick wall, and on the other, escape demanded a terrifying leap of faith. Jets of blood from her wrists and ankles could extend her jump, but would it be enough…?

“Enough!”

She flinched instinctively, her shoulders hunching as her muscles tensed. She whipped around to see a woefully familiar young woman in a showy orange outfit, her head of short teal hair topped by that trademark hat of hers, the fearsome Living Weapon known as Vice-Versa. Even a poor, no-name alley-cat like her had seen the high-flying, death-defying circus performances of Cerebella and the other members of the Cirque des Cartes. Knowing that their troupe were actually hitmen for the Medici Mafia made it harder to enjoy their antics, though. On reflex, the thief’s fingers closed around her broken collarbone, the parting gift left by that Living Weapon’s massive mitt last time they met. She gritted her teeth and fought to control her breathing as Cerebella sauntered forward, full of energy and confidence thanks to the ride she’d hitched to get here. When Cerebella extended an accusatory finger, Vice-Versa cracked its massive knuckles. “You’re not slipping through my fingers this time.”

“Just leave me alone!” Ms Fortune spat. “Haven’t you Medici dogs taken enough from me already?”

The other woman did not slow down. Thirty feet, twenty five feet, twenty. “Not until the Life Gem you stole is back in our hands. And every last threat to Vitale is brought to justice!”

Her inflection on the mafioso’s seldom-heard first name, full of admiration and longing, prompted a derisive snort from Ms Fortune. “Vitale? Justice? Hah!” Well, sorry, but you’ll be crawlin’ back to that bastard empty-handed, ‘cause I can’t give the Life Gem back!” Nadia was powerless to stop the cornered feral as she launched forward, propelled by streams of blood. “Now, get outta my way!”

Wham! Vice-Versa’s hands clapped shut around her, trapping the thief in a cramped cage of immovable fingers and palms. Powerless to fight back, she yelled at the carnie below her, her one visible eye alight with rage. “Let me go!” she heard herself yowl, the words filling her with a dreadful sense of deja vu. “I’ve gotta avenge my family! As long as the Life Gem’s power flows through my veins, nothin’ can stop me destroyin’ the Medicis!”

“Flows through your veins?”

Cerebella narrowed her eyes, and Vice-Versa began to squeeze. A cry of pain erupted from the thief’s throat. “No! Stop! PLEASE!” But those hands continued to squeeze, harder and harder, and the feral continued to howl, until her screams lost any semblance of language and everything gave way to nothingness.

---

Nadia jolted awake with a muted cry, fighting against a terrible, crushing weight upon the cavity of her chest. After a moment she managed to fill her lungs with air, and her head began to clear. She was in the bed in her room at that wrestling hotel, Banishing Flats. Having been sleeping on her front, she rolled onto her back, where she lay stared at the ceiling as her eyes slowly focused and her head stopped swimming. She had a hangover thanks to that ridiculous sangria, beset by insistent pangs of pain in her head just behind her eyes and a mouth as dry as the desert. When she licked her lips, it felt like sandpaper on a chalkboard. Time for a ‘coarse’ correction, she thought. Groaning, she picked herself up from her bed and staggered toward the bathroom. A bleary look around confirmed that nothing seemed any different from how she left it last night, but still…she couldn't escape the feeling that something was wrong.

Rather than turn on the bathroom light and intensify her headache, she drank from the sink’s tap in the dark, then used more water to wash her face. That dream…had it been another one of those ‘bugs’ that Asgore mentioned? A memory from a previous Ms Fortune’s life? Try as she might to remember where the dream took place, the details were already hazy. As far as she could tell, it had been somewhere in New Meridian. Maybe the city existed somewhere in the World of Light after all? Or maybe the whole thing had been nothing more than an ordinary nightmare, conjured up whole cloth by her weary subconscious. Given what happened the last time she stole something important from a very bad man, she couldn’t blame herself for her lingering unease. “Who knows,” she said aloud, rubbing her eyes in the dark.

Suddenly, there came a tremendous crash from the window in the main room behind her. Nadia flinched instinctively, her shoulders hunched up as her muscles tensed. The chill that surged down her spine galvanized her into action, and the catgirl burst out of the bathroom. She arrived just in time to see a big, burly robot with a blonde mohawk, military fatigues, and sculpted muscles as it ripped away the bed’s ring ropes with one one massive mit and pulverized the covered pillows with the other. As stuffing billowed into the air, the Jack-5 seemed to register that its target wasn’t there, and the next moment its baleful red gaze settled on the catgirl a couple yards away. With a terribly inhuman sound like a rumbly, metallic bark, it sprinted toward her, closing the distance in an instant to launch a powerful shoulder barge.

Nadia yelped and fell backward while trying to backpedal, then scrambled backward to avoid a series of heavy stomps. Finally, she twisted around in order to launch a stretchy Fiber Upper. Her sole connected with the Jack-5’s head, snapping it backward in a most unnatural manner. On reflex Nadia retracted up toward her feet in order to continue her offense, but the ceiling was low enough that she banged into it on the way up, and the robot’s upward gaze meant it knew exactly where she was. Its upper body rotated around so that it could stop her fall with an uppercut that drove her into the ceiling, followed by a handful of punches like jackhammers. Flakes of spackle and drywall rained down like snow as she took a beating, after which the Jack-5 let her tumble to the floor. It readjusted its head back to normal, its face devoid of emotion, then raised its huge arms and wrapped one hand around the other’s fist. Though dazed, Nadia put up her guard just in time as the double slam descended and blasted her straight through the floor and into the room below.

The person in that room, an aged but well-known wrestler named Wolf Hawkfield, was already awake thanks to the ruckus, but when two combatants plunged through the ceiling he got straight to action. Identifying the assailant, he launched himself straight over the fallen catgirl in a spear tackle that struck the Jack-5 head-on, blasted them through the door, and deposited them both in the hallway outside. Nadia regained her feet before they did and hurtled out of the room, stopping only to deliver a quick kick to the robot’s face as she blew past. “Guh! The hell’s going on!?” Unaware of where she’d ended up in Banishing Flats, she sprinted down the hall until another Jack-5 smashed through the wall at the end of the corridor in front of her. “Whoa!” As it ran her way she slid to a stop in the middle of a hallway junction, then used Charge just in time to escape the Jack-5’s bear grab by blitzing to the right as a lightning bolt.

To her relief she found herself in the motel’s lobby, but her relief turned to horror as the front door slammed open to admit yet another Jack-5. “What!? How many of you ro-buttheads are there!?” There was no time to panic, though, as it went for her with a mighty running hook. Nadia ducked, then punished with a spin kick to the groin followed by a Cat Scratch rekka. Once two claw slashes landed to activate her Elation blessings, she changed gears with a Tornado unchain combo starter. After the upward high kick, she continued the unchain circle with a below-the-belt punch and sobat kick, then finished with a Neck Cutter upside-down grab to twist the robot’s head clean off.

Just then, the previous Jack-5 caught up. Before he could sucker punch Nadia, though, another mighty machine grabbed him from behind and executed a flawless German suplex. When the Jack-5 jumped up, the Mecha-Zangief met him hand-to-hand in a colossal test of strength, at which Nadia could only blink in surprise. “You saved me!”

“Of course!” the robotic wrestler buzzed. “For Mecha-Zangief, customer is king!!”

At that exact moment, the Jack-5’s face split open to reveal an ominous red timer, counting down from five seconds. From where she was, Nadia couldn’t see what it said–only that two more Jack-5s were coming in through the motel’s busted front door, which she whirled to face. Mecha-Zangief’s eyes flared with alarm. “Customer, look-!”

A huge explosion went off in the lobby, reducing a whole section of the building to rubble and flames in a heartbeat. Every Jack-5 unit breaking in throughout the motel would detonate over the next minute or so as well in an effort to wipe Banishing Flats -and every Seeker within- off the face of Esaka. Overhead, the G-Corp helicopters responsible for deploying the Jack-5s would clear out as quickly as they came, riding the thermal updraft. On a rooftop across the nearby park, a muscular ninja with an X-shaped scar and a stylized blonde crew cut watched with a neutral expression, the furious blaze reflected in his shades.

“The Seekers of Light…are dead.”

Spire 04 - Orca Space Complex

Lvl 9 Sandalphon (35/90) Level 6 Heismay (38/60)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double, Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2341

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 7/8 | 🛡️: 6/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat

Though they didn’t communicate beforehand, Eve and Heismay took much the same tact when it came to tackling the dam. They acted more or less as shock troops, advancing ahead of the main force to strike key targets like lightning. Discreetly eliminating problematic lookouts and sentries gave the main force of Seekers a clear shot to roll in and wipe out the Naytibas, and their allies did not disappoint.

These foes were, on average, a cut above the opposition the team faced at Krat Zoo; though dangerous and horrific, the mutant carcasses had been malformed and disorganized enough to undercut their lethality, and what the Arche Puppets had in versatility they lacked in raw numbers. These specialized amalgamate Naytibas, a grotesque and inexplicable union of military hardware and corruptive biomass, posed a serious threat even in small squads. Ultimately, though, these Naytibas couldn’t hold a candle to the cohesive teamwork or varied abilities of a dozen Seekers of Light, not to mention the antlers, moblins, and golems that quickly crowded the battlefield. Once they stormed onto the scene, backed by Blazermate’s healing and Sandalphon’s fire support, the heroes split the Naytibas up and cut them down, with fighters like Geralt taking on two or more at a time. Not even the withering gunfire and missiles of entrenched sentryborgs could contend with the slow but steady advance of a turbo-buffed iron golem shield wall, and once the frontline cracked that nut the rest was just clean-up.

For some Seekers, in fact, an assault like this was too easy; Sectonia’s excessive and indiscriminate use of wide-ranging magical spells soon dealt serious damage to the dam itself, threatening to blow enough holes in the barricade that the reservoir would wash the team’s bridge away. When Sandalphon noticed this, she quickly took action. She switched out the Destruction spell bullets loaded into her Hexagun for Order spell bullets, then fired at the wounds left on the dam by the wasp queen’s sorcery. When an Order bullet came into contact with destruction, it rapidly repaired the damage, restoring the structure to its original state. While the archangel doubted that Sectonia could actually destroy the dam in such a short amount of time, she wasn’t about to take chances on the Seekers’ last chance to get across this treacherous gorge.

Soon enough, the brief but intense bridge battle came to an end, with no Seeker markedly worse for wear. Those who waded through the carnage to the far side of the canyon, new acquisitions in hand, found Eve, Heismay, and Tenna waiting for them with a secured route to the Orca Space Complex’s front door. With her overwatch concluded, Sandalphon could direct the stagecoach down the rocky side road and across the dam’s ash-littered crest. She paused the wagon briefly on the other side for everyone who wanted a quick break to climb aboard, and took the chance to look over what everyone had obtained from the Naytibas. Their spirits seemed about as unsavory as the carcasses when it came to fusion, but they promised to yield better results when itemized. That said, when presented with a one hundred percent biological sniper rifle, Sandalphon seemed reluctant to touch it, let alone wield it. “I appreciate the thought, but I must decline,” she told Ganondorf, pushing the Sporothrix back into his hands. “I resonate best with inorganic, magic-based precision weaponry.”

Sadly, Heismay did not take much more of a shine to the infected Rainfall. “What are these…protrusions?” he asked as he studied the nanite growths on the blade. “Is it contaminated somehow?” The Eugief hadn’t forgotten what Eve said about Naytiba flesh infesting machines, even if this didn’t quite look the same. After comparing it to his reinforced longsaber, he passed it to Geralt for inspection. “All yours, friend.”

In the course of his stealth mission, Heismay had acquired a few spirits as well, including ones left behind by Eve in her ignorance. Though his haul was less impressive than the others’, he went ahead and crushed his Naytiba spirits as well.

Items Obtained

Infected Type-4 ‘Authority’
Feeding on the enriched heavy metals that make up the core of this 'Authority' unit, nanites have built themselves into viciously barbed vine-like growths. The bludgeoning power of this hammer remains quite effective

Nano Ward Leg Gear
This electromagnetic repeller has been mounted on a sturdy CREO exo-rig for maximum efficiency. The underlying technology was discovered accidentally during a top secret project yet to be concluded. Coated with a thick layer of a newly developed anti-conductive alloy, it prevents nano absorption with a staggering success rate

Shotgun Ammo Box
It seems to contain enough vaguely shotgun-compatible ammunition to fully restore practically any shotgun-type weapon

Sawtooth Circlet
A flexible belt of serrated metal teeth. Not suitable for throwing or use as a weapon. An inventive tinkerer could find some use for it

“Ah, ‘tis another one,” Heismay reported wryly, dropping the infected hammer by the stagecoach. He couldn’t even lift this weapon, though perhaps one of the team’s physical powerhouses could make good use of it. The armor, meanwhile, was sized for a human frame and equally unsuitable for someone of his stature. As for the other items, Heismay couldn’t tell what use they might be to anyone, let alone him. “Oh well.”

The team soon got moving, slowly rattling up the rocky slope from the dammed canyon back to the main roadway. Now well-versed with the Naytibas’ firepower and penchant for ambushing, everyone was on high alert as they approached the main entrance, but surprisingly they found no additional obstacles. After the road evened out, the reindrix could pick up the pace and pull the stagecoach into Spire 04’s outermost complex.

Once the Seekers crossed the grounds and entered the main building, they found themselves on the ground floor of a huge, multi-level, high-tech facility. As the primary access point for Spire 04, it seemed to be a massive depot and support center, responsible for the security screening and processing of all incoming resources and personnel prior to shipment to the Space Logistics Complex via hypertube. Thanks perhaps to the hydroelectric power generated by the dam outside, the hangar-like structure was reasonably well-lit inside, with its many interconnected systems online. The place appeared highly industrial, with huge machines, glaring floodlights, and yellow-black warning stripes everywhere. Despite the original safety inspectors’ best intentions, though, Orca Space Complex would be highly dangerous thanks to the Naytibas scattered throughout the building. Just as with the dam outside there were houndborgs, sentryborgs, and droids, but this time the mechanical warriors’ ranks included fearsome battle droids with dual plasma swords, shoulder-mounted rocket launchers, and tougher armor.

At the end of the day, though, these foes were just Naytibas that could be dealt with, and it did not take Sandalphon long to identify the real impediment in her team’s path. The hypertube that represented the quickest and easiest route deeper into Spire 04 was completely sealed off, with three heavy, mechanical locks like giant clamps in an equidistant arrangement around its circumference to prevent unauthorized access. While she conceded that the strongest Seekers probably could budge these locks if they worked long and hard enough, she judged that it would be much faster to take advantage of the facility's powered state to simply disengage them instead. Of course, there was no telling what security measures might be in place to complicate that task.

“Over here!” Eve called, waving.

Sandalphon looked over just in time to see the swordswoman descend a ladder at the end of a catwalk to her left. When she walked over, she spotted a couple computer stations on a lower platform, and without a word the archangel hopped down, using Heavensent to slow her fall. Adam’s drone forced a remote connection and got the system booted up, allowing Sandalphon to bring up a map of Orca Space Complex. “We’re looking for three terminals,” she reported to the team, her sigil in use to proliferate her discoveries to any allies out of immediate earshot. “One is in the security office, second floor, back by the main door where we came in. Access requires a keycard, and it will go into lockdown if we attempt to brute force entry.”

Adam’s voice emanated from his drone as it perked up. “I can handle the door, but there may be other security measures inside. Better keep a low profile.”

The archangel nodded. “Another terminal is in the maintenance bay, on the far side of the first floor. The machines in the area are generating high volumes of error logs, so expect some sort of malfunction. The last is in the operations center, top floor, overlooking the whole facility. The elevator is out, though, so the only way in is by air. Be careful once inside, though. The system reports large quantities of unidentified foreign matter in the room.”

“Probably free-form Naytiba biomass,” Adam piped up. “Nasty stuff. Spreads like mold.”

Sandalphon pursed her lips. “Then it is fortunate that our fliers wield fire.” She conjured a couple screens of her own, each bearing images of White Team’s members that she quickly sorted into four groups. “I recommend three teams of three, not counting Adam’s drone. Sectonia, Blazermate, and Mokou to the infested operations center. Heismay, Roxas, and Geralt to the security office. Ramattra, Edward, and…perhaps Tenna can handle the maintenance bay.”

Perhaps sensing her uncertainty, Eve volunteered. “I could accompany them. I may not have Adam’s hacking skills, but I know my way around machines.”

“That would be most appreciated.” Sandalphon gave her a courteous bow. “In that case, Tenna can remain here at the hypertube entrance with the Cadet and Ganondorf to secure the stagecoach. I will do my best to coordinate the operation from here, as well.” She looked around the Seekers, her expression neutral. “...Is this arrangement satisfactory?”

Heismay nodded. “Works for me.” He then turned to go, gesturing for Roxas to accompany him and Geralt on another adventurous outing. “No time to waste!”

As Sandalphon stepped away from the workstation, she used her powers from Leanne to run a scan of her own, her pupils replaced by radar scanners. “...One more thing. I’m detecting a strong signal in all three locations. It is simultaneously biological and mechanical, similar to the Naytibas we’ve encountered, but far more dense. I cannot ascertain any more than that. Be cautious.”

One minute later, only four Seekers remained by the stagecoach on the second-floor platform by the hypertube. They watched as the three teams took out the Naytibas in their way as they dispersed in different directions, gradually disappearing from view. Sandalphon’s eyes remained glued to her screens, the first and foremost being a top-down view of the facility constructed from the computer data she’d studied, onto which she projected dots representing her comrades as they moved through the facility.

The depot was far from silent thanks to the clicks, thumps, and whirs of countless machines, but it was quiet, so the archangel could focus. A little more sleuthing in the facility’s systems revealed that each terminal would require the completion of a timed captcha in order to deactivate the locks: a hex cipher in the security office, a flow simulator for the operations center, and a TermLink Protocol in the maintenance bay.

What she could not anticipate, however, was the threat awaiting each team in each location. In the security office, Vauban (armed with a Ferrox speargun and Cycron radiation raygun) stood guard, his automated Tesla Nervos prowling the room under the watchful gaze of his various turret spheres. In the operations center lurked Nidus, juggernaut and manipulator of infested flesh, with a Boltor in hand and viral Pulmonars nunchaku at the ready. Finally, in the maintenance bay the Seekers would eventually encounter the tricky gadgeteer Protea, her Velox automatic pistol and Tenet Envoy rocket launcher guaranteed to spell trouble.

Engrossed in her duties, Sandalphon also missed one other variable, skulking just outside her view. Only once enough time had passed that the defenders were less on edge did the monster drop from its hiding spot in the rafters and land with a calamitous slam in front of the stagecoach. It was Orca’s state-of-the-art, flagship combat robot seamlessly melded with crimson Naytiba flesh, with a blinding spotlight in place of a head nestled amidst a mane of cables and tendrils. It stood ten feet tall, and in each hand clutched a greatsword the size of a human. Stunned, Sandalphon could only watch as the Belial unit raised one blade and decapitated a Reindrix with a single, fatal slash. The next second its other blade dispatched another beast, and after wheeling around, Belial dealt the next two Reindrix behind them a mortal blow. By then the pals were panicking, running straight toward the yellow railings at the edge of the platform, even if a fatal drop to the first floor awaited them on the other side.

Sandalphon’s screens vanished in an instant as she cast out her hand, sending forth a Frost Lock aimed at the floor in front of the Reindrix. Slowed down by their extra burden after the death of two companions, they slipped on the ice and fell to the floor, unable to drag the stagecoach to its destruction.

Without a sound, Belial turned toward Ace and Ganondorf, its greatswords hungry for more blood.

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

Looks good to me!

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

With Mokou finally gathering enough power, I am comfortable enough to throw a new villain(ess) into the ring for the Esaka tournament

The Fell Dragon

Name: Grima
Origin: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Appearance: Grima takes the form of a young, white haired woman of average height, with red eyes that occasionally glow with magic. Their general outfit is that of a stylized cloak purple cloak that covers a waistguard and a simple tan shirt and baggy pants, along with a basic pair of dark gloves and boots.

Grima’s true form, however, is that of a colossal, serpentine dragon, easily capable of dwarfing entire cities, and bearing six red eyes, six feathery wings, jagged teeth, two massive horns that create ridges along its back, and covered head to tail in black plating.

Personality: Cruel, tactical, and manipulative, Grima is a being who makes their hatred of humanity, and in truth, all of creation, abundantly clear. Even those who follow the Fell Dragon are not safe from Grima’s hatred, and Grima refuses to follow those that they view as inferior (which is to say, everyone). To themselves, Grima’s age and power makes them a god, only hampered by their vessel’s limitations, a fact that constantly frustrates them.

However, due to Galeem’s intervention in their original world, Grima’s mind is plagued by another soul: The unwavering spirit of Robin. While without much sway, Robin continuously pushes against Grima’s worldview and see the good in humanity. Thus, Grima is slightly more amicable and cooperative than they normally would be with the beings they claim to despise.

Background: Originally the creation of an alchemist named Forneus using the blood of the Divine Dragons, Grima began its life known simply as ‘the Creation’, a being of malevolent will who quickly killed their own creator due to their fear of them. Several thousand years passed after its birth and subsequent parricide, the Creation revealed itself to the world as the Fell Dragon, only to be sealed away by the First Exalt of Ylisse. However, Grima’s being was not truly severed from the world, and through its cult of the Grimleal, Grima plotted their return by having the Grimleal spend centuries creating the perfect host for Grima to inhabit, eventually giving birth to Robin.

Initially, Grima’s plot was a success. While Robin had escaped the Grimleal, their connection to the acting Prince of Ylisse allowed Grima a perfect opportunity to assassinate them and revive themselves, paving the way for world domination under the wings of the Fell Dragon. However, before their ultimate victory, the daughter of the prince had traveled back through time in order to stop the Fell Dragon’s plan from succeeding, requiring them to travel back as well. In this new timeline, the bonds of Robin and their friends allowed the vessel to resist Grima’s influence, though the Fell Dragon was still able to return through their vessel from the ruined future. In a final battle, Grima clashed with Robin and their friends, and the Fell Dragon was posed to finally achieve the victory they had worked for for centuries… Before a brilliant light enveloped the world. In their moment of distraction, Robin had chosen to sacrifice themselves to slay the Fell Dragon, using their connection to fatally stab them through the heart as the world itself faded into white.

In the Now: Drowned in light, Grima has become a relative nonthreat to the World of Light, largely due to their body being sealed away in a location even the Fell Dragon doesn’t know, eternally confined.. However, their vessel is still at large, actively attempting to garner influence and intelligence in order to find and release their true form.

Job: Fell Dragon
Specialty: Overwhelming power and dark magic, with summoning potential to make up for their relative slowness.
Inventory: (Your character’s starting equipment and items, including currency. Unless you specifically have the Inventory skill, your characters must carry everything physically)

Lv: 4
EXP: (The amount needed to level up is your Lv*10)

Abilities:
- Fell Wings: Using their magic, Grima is capable of conjuring a spectral, miniature variant of their true form, less the size of a mountain and more the size of a building. This form is capable of physically interacting with the world and casting Grima’s apex spell, Expiration, but its form is still tied to Grima’s host and can be disrupted through enough damage to either vessel.

Skills:
- Tactician of War: Grima’s vessel has a natural history of fighting directly in combat, and while Grima detests getting their vessel’s hands dirty, they are actually a fairly accomplished swordsman.
- Fallen magic: Grima is a master of abyssal arts, capable of using a variety of dark magics, from summoning spikes or conjuring dark manifestations of their true form.
- Conqueror of Valm: Grima’s vessel was instrumental in conquering the military nation of Valm, and that experience, coupled with Grima’s cunning, allows them to quickly analyze tactical information and formulate a plan… If they feel the battle warrants their effort.

Weaknesses:
- Fallen Dragon: While only a vessel, Grima’s body and their true self are still one and the same, and tools made to specifically counter draconic beings can bypass this connection to damage Grima’s original self.
- God’s Arrogance: Grima views themselves as a flawless god, without equal and without peer. While this trait is somewhat lessened thanks to their vulnerability within their vessel, they still lack any sort of humility and firmly believe their victory is assured in any situation. As such, they do not even think about possible failures, and while their quick thinking can mitigate it, they are quite easily caught off guard.
- Lance Vulnerability: While Grima’s vessel is a good swordsman, their technique (coupled with Grima’s arrogance) actually makes them rather ineffective against lance-wielding foes.

@Goggy

Looks quite good overall! I have just a couple notes.
-My eyes aren't so good and the shade of purple you've chosen is dark enough to blend in to the guild's background for me. I can just highlight it in order to read it, but it is a slight inconvenience
-At level 4 your starting EXP max should be 40
-At first glance, Grima seems limited in what she can do, since I assume she can't just summon her building-sized dragon form and blast everything to smithereens with an apex spell willy-nilly. Especially for stuff that strong, I would prefer to define specifics and limiting factors like cooldown times or mana costs. Her sword skills offset this somewhat, but I still think it would be a good idea to maybe start with a weaker and more generally usable dark magic and work up to an ultimate magic
-What sword does she have? I'd say to put it in her Inventory section
-I assume she's in Esaka in order to seek intelligence on her true form in order to find and release it? How does this play into her joining a tournament? And which tournament is she joining? Right now, I'd say that Mortal Kombat and King of Fighters have enough participants, so I'd encourage her joining World Warrior since it's the biggest and probably needs the most participants

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

Esaka’s Middle Tier / High Tier

Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (163/150) Level 11 Big Band (58/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Zenkichi’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
Word Count: 475 / 588

Though Nadia managed to not trip over herself on the way back from her sensational dinner at Mesón De Las Flores, nor to be too much of a burden for Primrose, it was clear that the thoroughly inebriated feral was in no state to troop up to the High Tier and go snooping for an abode that befit her newfound affluence. Plus, sticking with the other Seekers just made sense, so before it got too dark outside the two women returned to Banishing Flats. Insisting that she could look after herself from here, Nadia thanked Primrose and bid her good night. Luckily, the Mecha-zangiefs made checking in for the night pretty easy, and after hoisting her key belt like the champion she would soon be, Nadia found her way to her room.

As she shed her jacket and boots, she mused that she now had enough money to actually afford a change of clothes, then idly wondered where she left her shipgirl rigging. Probably at the NMO dojo, right? She’d need to head that way the next morning anyway in order to link up with Robo-fortune before pools began. Nadia couldn’t help but giggle when she remembered the look on Robo’s face when she suggested that her mechanical counterpart accompany her as a kameo to the Mortal Kombat tournament. As vehemently as Robo had protested, though, even she could see the wisdom in the real catgirl’s latest and greatest idea. With a strong zoner like Robo-fortune in her back pocket to enhance her strengths and cover her weaknesses, Ms Fortune would be more unstoppable than ever when it came to rushing her opponents down. Once Annie and Beowolf approved of the idea, there wasn’t much for Robo-fortune to do but sullenly fall in line.

On the way out Robo had not-so-subtly reminded Nadia that if she got eliminated in Mortal Kombat’s Losers’ Bracket it would be her life on the line, which elicited only a cocky snicker. And if you stage a mew-tiny, Nadia had replied, I’ll dismantle you myself, cog sucker!” Of course, the feral knew something that Robo didn’t: that any ‘execution’ of hers was bound to be im-purr-manent. The thought of Robo’s face when she showed up the next day, back from the dead, filled Nadia with smug glee. If she did get eliminated, her replica’s reaction would be a sweet silver lining. That said, Nadia wasn’t planning to lose. Before the week was out, Shao Khan’s reign would come to an end, and the era of catgirls would begin.

Before that, though, Nadia would need one hell of a good night’s rest. After washing up she climbed into bed and passed out within minutes, snoring away without a care in the world, all the trials and trepidations of her first day in Esaka well and truly forgotten.

---

As Zenkichi shared his story, Big Band listened with all the gravitas that his fellow detective’s tale was due. While his companion hadn’t suffered the physical harm that Band had, his was a story of exceptional emotional anguish. Zenkichi spoke of heartbreaking loss, followed by the soul-shattering indignity of being coerced into letting injustice stand, lest he lose what little he had left. Band was no stranger to being forced to turn a blind eye to evil, or to the guttural anger that such despicable acts filled him with. His fellow detective was right; their stories weren’t so different, after all. The only difference had been that Band didn’t think he had anything to lose, and in his attempt to revolt against a repugnant system, he had paid a steep price. Even so, looking back on it, Band was proud that he chose to stand up for his principles. If he had been in Zenkichi’s shoes, though, he probably would have done the same..

During the explanation, Band didn’t fully grasp the intricacies of psychics and changing hearts. He just figured it was Zenkichi’s world’s equivalent of the supernatural abilities from his world, like parasites, living weapons, and so forth. When Zenkichi moved the timeline of his story up to the present day World of Light, though, Band paid attention. As it turned out, while Band had been in Edinburgh MagicaPolis, Zenkichi had been part of the contingent in Midgar, and an old rival had popped up in his path. Although Band disagreed with Konoe’s execution on principle, he couldn’t drum up much sympathy for him. No matter one’s past or ideology, robbing innocents of their unalienable rights made the man a villain, and villains had to be stopped.

When Zenkichi outlined Konoe as the example of a more meta observation, though, Band agreed completely. He stared off into the streets of Esaka’s High Tier, his tired eyes watching each bright-eyed fighter come and go, full of excitement for yet another upcoming tournament. Each person, forced to retrace their steps. “Same old story,” he murmured, his voice low and grave. He cast his mind back to the term used to describe freeing someone from Galeem’s influence. If Seekers like him were ‘de-storied’, then each unwitting pawn in Galeem’s world was ‘storied’, forced to live and relive the same old story that dictated their existence, unable to break the mold he or she had been poured into.

He followed Zenkichi’s gaze toward the Top Tier’s towers, reminded of his mission. “It is crazy,” he agreed after a moment. “It’s sick, and it’s twisted. While poor, innocent folks from countless worlds get ground to dust over and over again, monsters like Moebius and the Skull Heart run rampant, free to claim more lives than ever before.” He thought about Linkle, stuck somewhere in Edinburgh MagicaPolis with only that boy Albedo to keep her sane. How long could one man stand against the infinite malice of the Skull Heart inside Linkle’s chest, and forestall the undead apocalypse she now embodied? If he returned to that island city, would he find a magical metropolis, or a mass grave? “This world’s gotta go,” he said succinctly. Band gave Zenkichi a firm nod. “And startin’ tomorrow, we ain’t gonna let anyone stand in our way.”

With their meals concluded, the two detectives got moving once again. They took roughly the same route back toward Banishing Flats as night fell over Esaka, heralding the end of yet another day in the Endless Now.

Spire 04 - Outskirts

Lvl 9 Sandalphon (32/90) Level 6 Heismay (35/60)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double, Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2519

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 7/8 | 🛡️: 6/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat

When the stagecoach slid into the ice swamp, tensions were higher than usual. With the frigid, briny water over a foot deep around the vehicle, most Seekers couldn’t afford to form a perimeter outside without risking hypothermia, so those who couldn’t fly remained inside. The giant, coffin-like hearse’s prominent lack of windows afforded those within only one, highly limited method of viewing the world outside: through the singular rear door, currently kept open so that the crew could scramble to the stagecoach’s defense at a moment’s notice. Fortunately, the wagon’s size meant that the water fell just short of its floor, so at least leaks wouldn’t be an issue. Outside, the Reindrix didn’t mind the cold, but the water resistance forced them to work twice as hard to haul their load forward, so it was slow going. All this meant that the stagecoach was an easier target than ever, and with only Sectonia, Mokou, and Blazermate aloft to keep the others’ ride safe, it was underdefended as well. With that in mind, those who stepped forward to blaze the trail for the team needed to make their decisions carefully.

Of course, Sandalphon considered using her position as team leader to decide the stagecoach’s course for everyone, but the archangel was still tentative about potentially overreaching her authority. Plus, in an enclosed area like this icy, saltwater swamp, the situation could change at the drop of a hat, so while she could gather information indirectly using her powers and arbitrate from there, it would be more efficient to trust in the reflexes and judgement of the capable professionals alongside her.

Unfortunately, there was no good choice among the options presented to Edward. To the right, the snowfield would guarantee a run-in with the fearsome, ogre-like Goss Harag, or the angry, sleep-inducing baggi, or perhaps even both. The leftward path lacked obvious threats, but there was definitely something dangerous in the water, as the preponderance of clean-picked bones in the area could attest. That left the center route, which featured the tempting proposition of a shipwreck filled with loot. When Edward directed the stagecoach across the threshold, however, a wall of uncanny blue and black fire erupted too suddenly to avoid. Pushing through it inflicted no burns on either the Reindrix or the stagecoach, but for a moment it rattled the walls of each Seeker’s psyche, and even when the horror abated it did not fade completely. Something remained, subtly but foul, like black mold in the grout between shower tiles. That subtle hint of dread was loathsome, but it was only a whisper. For now.

Still, it drove Sandalphon to make an executive decision. Even if its effect could not be properly quantified, the Seekers would be better off if they avoided the Loathing from now on. Cracked wheels and dented armor panels could be replaced; there was no telling what the darkness could do if the heroes let it in.

A few Seekers split off to loot the shipwreck, then the mineral-rich cove, while Edward provoked a couple of serpentine monsters up ahead. He managed to turn their soporific fumes against them, and after a moment the Ace Cadet, Ramattra, and Tenna sallied forth to keep them busy. Once their skirmish kicked off, the stagecoach slunk by and toward a larger, seemingly safe section of the swamp, where Heismay saw an opportunity in the waters. It felt a little absurd to go fishing in a dangerous area when he could be looking to the team’s safety instead, but on a campaign like this there probably wouldn’t ever be a time and place for his hobby–not unless he made one. He found a shelf of rock overlooking the shallow pool to fish from, cast his baited hook, and settled in to wait.

By that time, Mokou had engaged the Leviathan that had risen from the depths of the lake. At first blush the white-haired hotshot seemed like an ideal opponent for it, able to fly beyond its reach and rain down fire plumes from above. What did Vulnerable tokens matter if she never got hit, after all, and what did Blind tokens matter for individual projectiles when she had dozens if not hundreds more where that came from? In the end, though, Mokou wasn’t quite as above this opponent as it seemed, and her overconfidence led to a ruthless snatch that plunged her beneath the bitterly cold brine.

When Roxas and Ganondorf jumped to Mokou’s defense, however, they made a critical misstep. In the middle of the stagecoach’s attempt to discreetly slip by the conflict, the two decided to use it as staging ground and refuge in order to avoid a disadvantageous dip in the chilly water. When the Leviathan turned its cold fury their way, its gales and waves rocked the stagecoach. “Direct its attention away from us!” Sandalphon ordered sharply. “The expeditionary vehicle is not cover!” After a few moments the two succeeded in diverting the snaggle-toothed menace’s attention elsewhere, but by then the stagecoach armor had incurred further damage.

Once Edward kicked the Reindrix into overdrive, though, the stagecoach was home free. It rolled up out of the water and onto the snowy Midnight Walk on the far side of the ice swamp, where the passengers could briefly wait for the other Seekers to rejoin them. Among the returners was Heismay, with a fresh catch of two icefish and one toothfish, though one of the icefish looked a little weird, with miniature constellations of light stitching together the fins and bones of its body. The eugief seemed pretty happy, though. “Let us hang them from the strange rat’s cage to dry in the cold wind,” he said before giving the aberrant icefish a dubious look. “Though…truth be told, I am not keen to eat this one.”

The team had a more important matter to attend to, though. Following Mokou’s rescue, it was a perfect chance to finally free the half-dead heroine with a friend heart, and after Sandalphon recommended that the team do so, Blazermate obliged. The lightshow was over in an instant, and with it went the delusions clouding Mokou’s mind. Her new allies would have a lot of explaining to do, but fortunately they had a lot of ground to cover. Once everyone was reunited, the crew could set off between the rows of burnt matchsticks that led them ever onward. If stress simmered within the minds of those who’d faced the Leviathan, perhaps they’d find solace in the soothing song of the stagecoach’s windchime.

The Tale of Raphael Marks

Some time later, the Seekers’ stagecoach finally drew near to the massive complex of Spire 04, though it would be a while longer before anyone could consider stepping foot inside the space elevator. According to a map printed out on a large roadside signpost, any prospective visitors would need to enter the Orca Space Complex, enter some sort of tunnel-like structure called a hypertube, pass through the Space Logistics Complex where all the passengers and freight bound for space were sorted out, and finally penetrate the Raphael Space Center itself before the space elevator could be accessed, assuming anyone even wanted to. If nothing else, it looked like the Seekers could exit Spire 04 on the other side of the space center, and continue on their way to Moon Mountain. Though taking this route seemed daunting at first glance, it turned out -just as Sandalphon suspected- that the heroes didn’t have much choice in the matter if they meant to continue following the Midnight Walk; their path led straight toward the sprawling facility ahead of them, with deep, rocky gulches full of icy water running toward the Leviathan’s lake everywhere else.

Unfortunately, even reaching the first step in the journey ahead of them would be tricky thanks to the canyons carving up the land. “The bridge!” Heismay called down from his makeshift crow’s nest on the roof. “It’s out, there’s no way across!”

Anyone who looked just down the road -which now looked more like a highway- could see the truth of his words. The latter half of the bridge that led straight to the Orca Space Center’s main gate had broken off and collapsed into the valley. That section did look remarkably intact as it lay down there, the arched roadway tilted upward at a thirty-five degree angle, but that didn’t do the Seekers much good. Fortunately, what remained of the broken bridge provided a good vantage point from which Heismay could survey the scenery, and it did not take long for his bright, ruby-red eyes to spot an alternative path despite the Highlands’ gloomy evernight.

“Down there, perhaps!” he called again, pointing into the gulch toward the east. Not too far down below, a dam had been installed in the glacial waterway, perhaps to generate hydroelectric power for the Spire 04 facilities. The sloped, grooved surface beneath the dam’s spillway formed a controlled, artificial waterfall that limited the flow of water through the canyon, and the dam’s crest -safely nuzzled between rock walls on each side- effectively spanned the gap to form a second, far more stable but less accessible bridge. Its parapet walls meant little risk of falling off the sides, as well.

Sandalphon had stepped out from the stagecoach before it came to a stop on the broken bridge in order to survey the landscape for herself, and after a thorough look around she could see the wisdom in Heismay’s suggestion. It would be tough going, but they had little choice, and from here the archangel could see what looked like a rough, but usable path down toward the dam amidst the snow and rocks. Getting the team’s vehicle down there in one piece would be Edward’s greatest challenge yet as stagecoach driver, but she had no doubt that it was a miracle he could make happen. “I recommend that everybody disembark,” she advised the team. “This is going to be bumpy.”

“Not to mention dangerous,” Eve declared as she stepped out from the stagecoach, her heels clicking on the asphalt roadway. She and Adam had trusted the Seekers to see them safely to their destination on the way here, but now that the two had reached the outskirts of Spire 04 it was their time to shine. Though Adam seemed reluctant to take the field himself, he had deployed a one-eyed drone to accompany her, which floated by her side as she approached the bridge’s wall and leaned over it to peer into the valley. “This is Naytiba territory. We can expect to find heavy opposition.”

At approximately the same time, Sandalphon and the drone both launched a scan, the former with her pupils ringed like a radio scanner and the latter with a probing pulse. Between the two of them, they quickly pointed out a number of hard-to-spot enemies hidden around the dam. “There, there, there, and there,” Adam declared, speaking through the drone. Evidently he would be staying aboard the stagecoach despite Sandalphon’s warning. “Looks like it’s primarily machine-type Naytibas.”

“Naytibas whose flesh have infested and taken control of man-made robots in a sort of parasitic relationship,” Eve explained.

Adam sighed. “Guess there’s no limit to what their rapid evolution can do.”

Keen to learn more, Sandalphon brought out her rifle to make use of its scope for a closer look. Sure enough, there were a number of machines in the dam’s vicinity, all sporting rather disgusting signs of organic infestation. Standard droids, whether armed with just a superheated blade or kitted out with a red plasma shield, looked as if they had fleshy guts spilling out of their bellies. Quadrupedal houndborgs patrolled large areas in small groups, endowed with additional tentacled limbs, and anyone who planned to assault choke points from a distance could expect sentryborgs top return fire with miniguns and missiles. They weren’t too numerous or organized, so Sandalphon judged that her team could handle them with Eve’s help, but on average these would definitely be tougher nuts to crack than Krat Zoo’s carcasses. And if the past was any indication, there would be a couple remarkable specimens tucked away around the most important parts of Spire 04, just waiting for hapless heroes to wander in and try to complete their objectives.

“Let us proceed,” she announced. “We need to clear out everything in the stagecoach’s way to see it through safely. I’ll stay up here to provide fire support, but I will avoid firing at will to preserve your element of surprise. If anyone wants me to take a shot, just give me a call. Reach out if you need healing, as well.” With Blazermate going down alongside the others, though, she did not anticipate that her restorative miracles would be needed for a while.

“Understood.” Heismay hopped down from the roof of the stagecoach. Though no leader, the eugief had no qualms with taking initiative when it came to following orders, and Eve did not hesitate to join them. In a steady jog they retraced the path of the stagecoach back down the Midnight Walk to the base of the bridge, then diverted from the road to descend along the rocks. They passed beneath a couple of large pipes alongside the bridge, then veered right to navigate among the large rocks.

It wasn’t long before they encountered their first Naytibas, a couple of houndborgs stationed along a small, gravelly tributary to the reservoir above the dam. They were relatively isolated, so Eve put a finger to her lips as she pulled out her high-tech hairpin, which transformed into a swordblade that perfectly conveyed her intent. Heismay gave a nod, then crept into position alongside his new comrade. After she came to a stop atop an outcrop directly above one houndborg, Heismay hopped over the little canyon to get close to the other. With the Highlands as dark as night, he did not need to worry about his shadow giving him away.

Once both were ready, Eve launched her assault and plunged her blade into the houndborg from above, then flipped off with her weight behind her blade to tear its core out in one stroke. Taking careful note of where she hit the thing, Heismay followed suit the next moment. His longsaber’s blade slipped between armor plates, cracked circuit boards, and pierced abhorrent flesh, and the next second he finished off the stricken Naytiba with a wrenching cleave. As both monsters turned to ash his boots splashed into the creek’s frigid, and he tried not to wince as he gave a nod at Eve. These were kills worthy of the assassin archetype. “Well struck.”

“Thanks.” Without another word the woman moved on, so Heismay did as well, taking a different, higher-elevation route toward the dam where the bulk of the fighting would take place, all under Sandalphon’s watchful gaze.

An Idiot's Dungeon Union

Especially because he knew he hadn't really earned it yet, Schnupfen found the nickname of 'boss' rather endearing. Technically they were all equals, after all, but it was only naturally that some would be better at certain tasks than others. Case in point, excavation. Following the attempted pickaxe swing that ended up being much more embarrassing than motivational, the shadow was relieved when Zogi stepped in to take over and truly kickstart the excavation. His gratitude lasted only a second, however, when upon review he realized that the little goblin might be patronizing him. Even if it was warranted, and Zogi did admittedly have an impressive nose for a goblin, it took some guts to look down on someone much taller than him!

Schnupfen gave the back of Zogi's head a suspicious, indignant look as the dig crew started working, their labor off to a good start thanks to the Oracle's enchantment. Rather than confront, however, the shadow assuaged himself by sulking. "Yeeeees, I'll...not get in your way," he muttered, half to Zogi and half to himself. He turned his nose toward the fallen pickaxe, then glared at his spindly, claws hand. "I would help if I could, but I am cursed with these...slender, dainty limbs. One must wonder at Mother Void's taste in geists..."

A moment later, he pointed his schnoz at the stone wall and clenched his fist. "In terms of finding 'shinies', though, I can do far better than rummage through the rubble." More for the sake of standard procedures than any actual physical benefit, he twisted his body a few times to stretch and limber himself up. "Behold," he declared as if anyone were paying attention to him right now, "As I scout ahead in a way only I can."

With that, he approached the wall, his fists still clenched as he swung his arms with what he imagined to be a very purposeful stride. Schnupfen phased right through the solid stone, and with that he began his reconnaissance. The shadow was hunting for anything of interest within the earth, whether that be mineral veins, the tunnels or nests of burrowing creatures, naturally-formed caves, or pockets of gas and groundwater. Even the lack of something could be useful, since it meant an area of the dungeon would be pre-excavated, so to speak. Unfortunately, the more ground Schnupfen covered, the less he found. While he could see in the dark, he couldn't see inside of solid matter, so he could really only stumble around blindly in the rock and hope he blundered into a discovery, relying on his memory to retrace his steps. He found exactly zero openings, however, and when at length he gave up and attempted to retrace his metaphorical steps, he was horrified to discover that he'd miscalculated somehow, for he found only solid stone where the dungeon should have been. Unable to see, or even speak, he could only try and keep his head and expand his search area as the dread in his mind mounted.

A few minutes later, Schnupfen crawled out of the floor and into the dungeon's dim light, hyperventilating. At least a dozen eyes protruded from random points on his ragged, murky body, their concentric collapse much faster than usual. As he lay on the ground like a squashed spider, his eyes gradually calmed down and disappeared, and his breathing slowed enough for him to give his report. "...No shinies," he rasped. "Nothing at all. No caves, no ores. Not so much as a mossy grotto or ant colony." He did not mention that he'd nearly gotten lost and consigned himself to a rocky tomb for all eternity. Exhaling slowly, he rose back into the air.

At that moment Salbjörg shrieked at him, which made an eye bug out of each side of his head like a chameleon as he flinched. "Gah! What is it, now!?" Composing himself, Schnupfen followed the woman over into the room where he found an unusually big rhinocerous beetle where there hadn't been one before. Though not much to look at, it did smell a little cosmic. He let out a mirthless laugh. "Heh. What are the odds of that, oracle?" After a sidelong glance at Salbjörg as if to say can't do it yourself, huh? he carefully floated forward to inspect the requested trinket, stooped like a shrimp. The second the smell of magic tickled his nostrils, he recoiled at lightspeed, his eyes narrowed as his huge nose drooped downward. "Yyyuck. What a pong..." And the Oracle actually tried this thing on? Rather foolhardy for an extraterrestrial entity. He carefully reached out with his wiggling fingers, thought better of it, and pulled his hand back. He scowled at Salbjörg, anticipating criticism. "Give me a minute."

He flew over to the dungeon core, and a few moments later, returned with the bone from the dungeon's first set of rolls. He sniffed, squinted, and carefully used it to lift the amulet off the beetle's horns. He laid the amulet on the ground as soon as possible as he backpedaled, watching to see if the polymorph would depart along with the trinket, or if the Oracle's curse was here to stay. What a rotten turn that would be, Schnupfen thought. With how things were going, the dungeon keepers might successfully defeat themselves before sundown.

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

Esaka’s Middle Tier

Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (157/150) Level 11 Big Band (57/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Zenkichi’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
Word Count: 790 / 873

Now that she’d gotten some of her buried stress off her chest, Nadia looked forward to taking the rest of the night easy. She’d need all her energy to dive headfirst into Pools tomorrow, and begin her long, dangerous climb to the top of Esaka’s deadliest tournament series. To that end she happily let Primrose lead her further around the Mid Tier and to a particular cantina, with more security than one might expect given the humble appearance of its exterior. When the ladies approached, Nadia’s first instinct was to start looking for alternate methods of ingress. The storied cat burglar scanned for windows, balconies, possible back doors, even sewer grates, any means of circumventing the guard.

Of course, Primrose had other plans. She simply waltzed right up with an irresistible smile on and a swing in her hips. Nadia just followed along dumbly, smiling like an idiot, and gave the bouncer a confident wink when he complimented her. And just like that, the two were admitted inside. “Crazy,” Nadia muttered with a laugh, shaking her head in astonishment. “To me, that kinda stuff might as well be black magic. Good thing you were here to help meowt!”

The two sauntered inside as if they belonged there, followed by their canine friend. Remembering that fancy ladies sometimes carried tiny pups in their purses, Nadia scooped the little guy up to be her lapdog, which naturally meant lavish attention and first dibs on hors d'oeuvres. She wasn’t quite sure what sort of establishment this place really was until the two reached the main room and she could take everything in. One glimpse at the potent combination of bars, smoky backrooms, and battle arenas convinced her that she was in for a good time. “Oh, man. I love this place already~”

Together the three found themselves a table in a secluded corner that gave them a good view of the dance floor, as it was. Unlike in Fengjian Teahouse, Nadia had no intentions of taking center stage herself. Whether she was in for music or mayhem, she wanted nothing more than to watch. She almost requested a cheap cerveza before remembering that she was loaded now, at which point she promptly placed an order for the biggest, fanciest mixed drink on the menu. Drunk with power, Nadia ordered Clams Diablo (with spicy romano tomato sauce plus chorizo) and Portabella España (seafood stuffed mushrooms) also. Naturally, she offered to pay for whatever Primrose wanted, as well.

To Nadia’s knowledge, Primrose was planning to perform or something, but life in Esaka was nothing if not predictable. Only a few minutes after the Seekers’ arrival, guests began to pour into the place, quickly filling up every seat in the house. Nadia got the impression that something interesting was about to happen, and the cantina did not disappoint.

The flamenco dancers moved to the back of the stage to admit a peppy young woman in green, orange, and white, who held a microphone in her hand. “Olá, senhoras e senhores! Welcome one and all to the exhibition match you’ve all been waiting for! A best-of-ten tag-team slobberknocker between some of the fiercest fighters to ever grace this stage. Without further ado, please give a warm welcome to the challengers, representing Mexico, Pepe Rodriguez and the King. Of. Dinosaurs!”

A storm of claps and cheers heralded the arrival of an enormous reptilian luchador and a somehow even more shirtless dude in flowing white pants, the former with much more braggadocious aplomb and the latter with natural confidence.

“And representing España, our home team: Franco Gerelt and Miguel Caballero Roja!”

On the other side of the arena, two well-dressed men emerged: one a mustached, rapier-wielding man in red and the other a roguish, frizzy-haired ruffian, one the pinnacle of elegant machismo and the other full of devil-may-care swagger. ”Oh, this is good,” Nadia said with a grin. As the two teams approached one another, a waitress appeared to drop off Nadia’s drink: an entire hollowed-out watermelon filled with a deep red mix of watermelon pulp and wine to form an extravagant sangria. The catgirl stared at it in stunned silence, then gave Primrose a pleading look. “You’re gonna have to help me with this.”

The next second, a huge cage dropped down out of the ceiling and trapped all four fighters in the arena, to uproarious applause. Nadia couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, THIS is GOOD!” One way or another, it was going to be a wild night.

---

After their training session came to an end, the two detectives set out together with no particular destination in mind, just a vague idea of wanting to grab dinner somewhere. It was quarter past seven, with sunset on the way, and in the wake of the furious but brief rainstorm the populace of Esaka reemerged to reclaim their evening. Having been consigned to drenched takeout from whatever bistro might be nearest to Banishing Flats on account of rain, Band had a mind to wander and see as much more of the city as the fading daylight would allow. In the spirit of trying something new he suggested to Zenkichi that they head up to the one tier they hadn’t visited so far, the High Tier, and get a little taste of life in the fast lane. Of course, Band was well aware that his leftover performance earnings wouldn’t land him a spot in any sit-down restaurant up there, but any city of that caliber was bound to have street food, and in Band’s book, that’s where the best stuff was.

About half an hour later, the two reached one of the more densely urban sections of High Tier, which for all intents and purposes resembled a normal city street. Band could see upscale clothing, shoe, and hat stores called Button Check, Flash Kicks, and Universal Overheads respectively. He spotted Tap Dust, a brewery, as well as Smith Coffee, Polar Star Coffee, and Ortiz Coffee–this place seemed to be a caffeine addict’s paradise. Energetic music blared out from clubs like Deadly Rave, and giant screens hanging from buildings displayed fighter ads amidst updates from Directional Influence, the news station based here in High Tier.

Band tried to keep his focus on the street and away from all the visual stimuli, but he did pause to watch one fighter ad when he realized it was for a prominent Tekken competitor. It showcased a burly biker with a very distinctive tall, blonde flattop, and he seemed to pack one hell of a punch. One highlight played from a recent Tekken semifinal match of him absolutely demolishing his opponent with the Death Fist, a full-body right straight punch. There wasn’t a high probability of Band running into this Paul Phoenix in tournament, but he committed the move to memory anyway.

By eight o’clock, the detectives joined the short line for Meaties, a food truck that seemed to serve as a mobile delicatessen, offering all sorts of savory chicken, pork, and beef. Band went for a classic hot dog with the basic condiments of ketchup, mustard, and relish, even though the truck offered all kinds of topics from onions to chili to cheese. Even so, the size of the frankfurter alone made it a decent meal, just the kind that Band would often get on the job back when he was a detective. As he and Zenkichi walked along with their food, they alternated chewing and talking, mostly about work. This was the point where Band, unfortunately, had to disabuse his new acquaintance of an idea he himself had installed.

“Well…truth is, while I call myself a detective and still look the part, I ain’t technically a detective anymore.” He took a big bite out of his hot dog, dabbled at his lips with a napkin held by mechanical pincers, then shrugged as he swallowed. “Y’see, me and the boys didn’t always see eye to eye. Most of ‘em were just in it for the money, and not just the pennies we got paid, if you catch my drift.” His expression darkened as he pursed his lips ruefully. “No, those boys were on the take. Why rake in pennies for doin’ your job when you could make big bucks not doin’ it? Me, though? I still clung to silly ideas like ‘truth’ and ‘justice’--y’know, old-fashioned crap like that. One day, after I caught wind of some nasty double-dealin’ and dropped a couple hints to the boss, the boys found out and gave me an early retirement.”

He deployed an arm and patted his huge, bell-shaped chassis. The brass reflected the last rays of the sun as they sank below the horizon. “Iron lung. My broken body woulda spent the rest of its days rottin’ away in a hospital bed if ASG didn’t get a hold of me. They built me into the man I am today. Ever since then, I been somethin’ between a vigilante and a monster hunter. Workin’ against the Skullgirl was my day job; fightin’ crime ended up bein’ more of a hobby.” After finishing his hot dog, Band let out a sign of resignation. “Guess I got a hard time lettin’ go. Those weren’t my glory days by any means, but that stuff’s what I’m meant to do.”

He chuckled. Around him, the street lamps, screens, and other lights meant that it was still almost as bright as day even now that night had fallen. “And now here we are. Fixin’ to go and fight like gladiators in order to save the world.” Band raised an eyebrow at Zenkichi. “So, how’d you wind up here, slick?”

The Midnight Walk - 2.4

Lvl 9 Sandalphon (32/90) Level 5 Heismay (85/50)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double, Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1547

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 7/8 | 🛡️: 7/8 | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat

Although Gründachdorf turned out to have a surprising amount of hidden depth, with a lot more going on than its quaint, medieval appearance might suggest, it wasn’t long before the Seekers had to hit the road. They had a lot more ground to cover before they reached their real destination of Moon Mountain, after all, and with no need for rest or new supplies just yet they couldn’t afford to spend any more time in a place like this than absolutely necessary.

Plus, a new landmark had revealed itself from the Highlands’ dark fog that invariably drew the travellers’ gaze: the space elevator of Spire 04, a technological pillar that connected earth and sky, a feat of engineering so marvelous that looped right back around to being fantastical. It sat in the middle of a sprawling complex whose true size was difficult to estimate even for Sandalphon, but she judged it at least as big as Krat Zoo, if not larger. When the Midnight Walk began to veer in that direction, her suspicions about the team’s next destination were confirmed.

Of course, the Seekers could probably find a way around, but going off-road in the Frozen Highlands would be treacherous, if not downright dangerous. Their brief departure from the Midnight Walk on the road to the village had proven as much when the detour -which had lasted only a couple minutes tops- claimed one of the wagon’s eight wheels. While such a loss would have stopped the average carriage cold, the Seekers’ still-unnamed stagecoach had been able to keep rolling thanks to its eight-wheeled structure. It could only take so much, though, and how much depended on which wheels went next. At best, their ride could stand to lose three more wheels before it could no longer move; at worst, it would only take one unlucky loss before it became inoperable. Part of Sandalphon had wanted to insist on immediate repairs back at Gründachdorf, but she tried to temper her compulsive behavior, reasoning that it would have been an overreaction. Still, she couldn’t help but worry as the stagecoach rattled ceaselessly onward, the music of its windchime and the yells of the ratshaker rat all but drowned out by the howling winter wind.

It was relatively comfortable inside the vehicle, at least, and Sandalphon didn’t want for company. The two new passengers who’d agreed to accompany them to Spire 04 from Gründachdorf intrigued her for a couple reasons, so rather than bury herself in Markiona’s research material again, the archangel took the chance to ask one of the questions on her mind. “Adam and Eve,” she said aloud, getting the pair’s attention. “Curious names that often seem to be paired together. Some time ago, two brothers with those names attacked a city called Midgar. They were machines that styled themselves after men, and chose those names for themselves. Perhaps you know their significance?”

Eve gave Adam a bemused look, while the latter only shrugged. She then turned back toward Sandalphon with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’m afraid I have no idea of the names’ meaning or significance. Strange that they would seem to come as a pair. Adam and I met only a short time ago. We are little more than strangers.”

“After I saved you from the Alpha Naytiba? Oh, that’s cold,” Adam joked, his rather flat voice making his feigned indignity rather unconvincing.

In short order Sandalphon realized that Eve actually knew very little about the world itself, and while Adam seemed more worldly, he seemed less forthcoming and more inclined to deflect. Not wanting to try and dig deeper, Sandalphon thanked the two for their time and settled in for the ride, her attention turned back toward her research.

As the stagecoach progressed into a new area, it quickly became apparent to Heismay -perched atop the roof near the driver as usual- that this would be the toughest stretch of the journey so far. The Midnight Walk took the Seekers around the edge of a large lake that Heismay thought must be saltwater to explain why it wasn’t frozen, he couldn’t see any body of water that might connect it to the ocean through the fog. He could see, though, that the route ahead led through a strange sort of subarctic swamp. It featured large stretches of shallow, icy water, only about a foot deep, carved up by tall, sheer plateaus of rock like islands in the sea, some crowned by frost-wreathed willows or wind-scoured shipwrecks. Farther away from the lakeshore, the knee-deep pools gave way to patches of snow, though these were similarly fenced in by miniature mountain ranges.

Though not quite cramped or confined enough to be a labyrinth, this gelid marsh promised to be difficult to navigate for the stagecoach. As it followed the Midnight Walk toward the water’s edge, Heismay shook the snow off his parka and limbered himself up for action. “I’ll scout ahead,” he declared. “This place may very well harbor all manner of hidden hazards.” Of course, he wouldn’t be wading through the water. Even if he wasn’t much shorter than the average Seeker, that water would ruin his winter clothes and afflict him with hypothermia within moments. For those who couldn’t fly, or ride atop the stagecoach, it would be necessary to take shelter inside it. At least the Reindrix didn’t seem to mind the cold at all.

After gathering his strength, the eugief jumped from the roof of the moving vehicle and landed in the snow next to the Midnight Walk, light enough on his feet that he didn’t even need to roll. He made for the nearest rock spire and scaled it with a series of jumps, attaining enough altitude that he could then jump off and glide over a stretch of swamp to the nearest rocky outcrop. It took only a few seconds to scale it with a series of deft jumps, at which point he paused for a moment to get his bearings. Then he made for the next island, a larger one with a shipwreck on it. It still had enough rigging that climbing across it was both easy and fun; the buildings of Gründachdorf had been a good warm-up for this. Once Heismay reached the crowsnest, he stood atop it like a daredevil buccaneer and surveyed the landscape to see what it had in store for the stagecoach now forging through the icy water.

Thanks to his sharp eyes, Heismay quickly realized just how treacherous this place actually was. The area’s naturally-occurring walls meant that there were several routes available that the stagecoach could take, but one looked just about as bad as the next; Edward and the others would need to make some difficult decisions, and fast.

First up, there were three routes to choose from. The leftmost one led up out of the water and through a confined snowfield, but Heismay could see a horned, shaggy behemoth digging into the half-dissolved corpse of a purple theropod it had slain, while the dinosaur’s pack of raptors yapped at the killer from a safe distance. From that snowy clearing, one could veer northwest into a rocky area with what looked like veins of ore, or descend into the yawning maw of a dark cave. Even Heismay couldn’t peer down there, so there was no telling what might await the Seekers if they went that way–or if there was even another way out.

In the middle route, he could see the unusual shipwreck of a yellow boat, very dissimilar in appearance from the other, more normal-looking wooden ones scattered around. To the left, nearest the lake, he couldn’t find any visible threats but the water churned in a way that he did not like. Both it and the shipwreck route led to a more lush seaside area where two strange, yellow and purple fish monsters lay in wait for prey. He did see one narrow side-path that seemed to suggest that one could maneuver from the shipwreck toward the ore veins, but the ways both toward the former and away from the latter were marked by strips of otherworldly black-and-blue flame beneath the water, which smoldered in a most detestable, unwholesome fashion.

Farther in, he could see the glint of fish scales in an unusually large open area of the swamp, and just to the west stood a grove of dead-looking trees that somehow bore plump orange fruits. A bigger, thicker copse of pine trees stood in the snowfield directly north, but a glimpse at a hulking, horned herbivore gave Heismay pause. The other route toward the end of the swamp, which looped around toward the east, looked relatively clear. Its proximity to the lake, though, conjured images in Heismay’s mind of massive sea monsters emerging from the depths to try and drag the stagecoach to a watery grave. With a heavy sigh, the eugief hurried back toward the others to report his findings.