Lugubrious

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

Esaka, the Tiered City - the Pools

Setting: Drizzly Friday Morning
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (270/150) Level 11 Big Band (210/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1800 / 412

As much as Nadia would have liked to continue showboating after her narrow and exhilarating victory, winning over the crowd with her wits and the charms, it didn’t take the onlookers long to clear out. This hadn’t exactly been a high-profile bout, after all, so there was no press coverage that the thief could see, nor any post-match interviewers eager to get the feisty up-and-comer’s story. In fact, since most of the assembled spectators had been here for Taokaka and Bullet, the mood seemed to be against Nadia if anything. A minute or two after the dust settled, she made the executive decision to slip her coat back on and make herself scarce. As much as the gregarious catgirl would have liked to really make a name for herself and become a beloved celebrity, she knew that remaining an anonymous unknown would probably be the best. There were a lot of people in Esaka whose attention she really didn’t need right now, after all. Such was the dilemma of an outgoing party girl who happened to be a cat burglar, or in this case, a Mortal Kombatant who happened to be a Seeker of Light.

It would also behoove her, she knew, to keep a low profile for what she wanted to do next. This time, she wasn’t planning to celebrate another victory with a delicious meal or shopping spree, at least not in the conventional sense. After bidding farewell to Robo-fortune in her customary fashion (“Smell ya later, Tin Cans!”) Nadia consulted a bulletin board, then set off on a quick run through the Mortal Kombat section of Esaka’s Pools tier. One of the many things she could appreciate about the city’s tournament culture was just how fixated the populace got on the fights, even in the qualifying rounds. With everyone’s eyes on the duelists duking it out, especially with the prospect of bloodshed on the table, nobody really paid attention to the other spectators on the sidelines. If she had been in a pickpocketing mood, Nadia would have had a field day, but right now she didn’t need anything from the citizens’ pockets. She did have her eyes set on something, though, and in just under half an hour she found it.

Her second set of opponents from yesterday, the half-sisters Maya and Mira, were in kombat against a duo by the names of Ihadulca and Keiya. The former was a black-clad, staff-wielding sorceress with red runic tattoos, glowing wings, and a long turquoise ponytail, and the latter a very ordinary looking Japanese man in a black suit, and while the two looked very different, both seemed to be powerful mages. Maya and Mira were skilled and relentless fighters made even more fearsome by their fall to Losers, but the sheer arcane might of Ihadulca seemed to be troubling them. The sorceress commanded floated orbs, unleashed beams of energy, wielded telekinesis, cast fireballs, and reflected projectiles, all while able to float and teleport at will. Despite much more limited ability to combo, she could keep the amazon out quite effectively, and her Kameo’s own magic made her assault even more oppressive. As Nadia approached, Ihadulca grabbed Maya, blasted her into the air with a beam, then warped above her to end the second round with a ruthless plunging attack. “Go to hell!”

As Maya hit the ground and Mira moved forward to help her up, Nadia looked around. The tension in the air from the audience, most of whom seemed to be in the sisters’ corner, was palpable. Some despaired that Maya seemed to be getting overwhelmed, while others cursed Ihadulca’s lame, keepaway-heavy fighting style and Low Tier status. Their sorrow was Nadia’s delight, however; as bad as she felt about it, Maya’s downfall was exactly what the catgirl had been praying on, but not out of spite over their match yesterday. Instead, as the final round between the kombatants began, Nadia kept her covetous gaze on the amazon’s uncanny knife skills. Her blades, Temperance and Vengeance, soared and swooped like birds in flight as she pushed forward through her foe’s magic onslaught, covered by Mira’s mercurial blood bats. Maya was fighting with everything she had. She dodged the spells and slipped into melee range to start a combo, only for Keiya to break it and return the kombatants to neutral. “Go Iha, go Iha, go!” Nadia cheered for her chosen fighter. “Keiya, Keiya, he’s our man! If he can’t do it, Iha-dul-can!”

In a critical moment, Maya canceled the recovery of what would have otherwise been a lethal whiff with the activation of her Instinct. “On the hunt!” At those familiar words the onlookers cheered, and Nadia braced herself. Suddenly Temperance and Vengeance flew like they had minds of their own, bouncing off the ground, the stage, and Ihadulca herself as Maya attacked. After a few moments, the sorceress sacrificed her Kameo to take a hit in her stead as she sidestepped, then rushed forward with a flurry of staff strikes. She seized Maya, flung her to the ground behind her, then teleported upward to fire rays of energy down at her foe. That turning point seemed to seal Maya’s fate, as even though she landed a few more hits with Mira’s help, she never managed to recover her lead and Ihadulca ultimately floored her with a ring of magic spheres.

ROUND THREE: IHADULCA AND KEIYA WIN!

As Maya reeled, low on energy and gasping for breath, Ihadulca looked up at the faceless, cloaked officiant that floated silently over the battle like a specter of death. Those rooting for Ihadulca in the crowd had been fewer in number, and mostly yokai, but their cries resounded across the area. “Fatality! Fatality! Fatality!”

Robe fluttering in the cool breeze, Shao Khan’s minion gave a thumbs-down in his stead. ”Finish her.”

Ihadulca turned her cold frown on her opponent and forth her floating orbs. Nadia bit her lip, then pulled her hood down to block her eyes and muffle her ears. Even if it was the price to pay for achieving her current goal, she feral didn’t want to watch this. After a moment, there was a brilliant flash of light, then a loud scream followed by the roar of the yokai. When Nadia finally looked a few seconds later, there were only two piles of ash where Maya had been, conspicuously far apart from one another. Neither Ihadulca nor her Kameo remained to bask in their victory, but departed without comment, and Nadia only saw the back of Mira’s head briefly as the vampire disappeared into the crowd. Pretty much everyone was already moving on, but Nadia remained, watching as the officiant swept the ashes -and more importantly, the spirit- of the fallen off the stage and into the water.

In a flash, Nadia shed her coat and boots, then dove into the pool. Thanks to the spirit’s prismatic glow, it took only a couple seconds for her to recover the mote of data. Then, still holding her breath, Nadia pressed it into her heart then and there. Anyone who happened to catch a glimpse of the burst of rainbow light underwater would probably think nothing of it, but the woman who surfaced wasn’t quite the same as the one who dove in.

Spirit consumed

Maya
The host’s physique has become a little more lithe and lanky, with subtle but wiry muscle beneath the surface, and a slightly smaller chest. Her black undersuit is now a leathery dark brown, and there is brass armor on her chest, shoulders, and waist. Her calico hair now has a totally blonde base instead of white, the brown streaks are more pronounced, and her hair is just longer enough to form a small ponytail. Her personality is more willful, and she is more liable to think of her enemies as prey. This spirit confers the Ability Instinct, granting the host a secondary resource that builds as damage is inflicted and taken. When activated, Instinct will instantly return the host’s melee weapons to her hands no matter where they are, then until it runs out, her weapons will continue to bounce back to her. This spirit also confers the Weakness Disarmed, weakening her pressure and mixups if she’s not wielding a weapon

Once she climbed up to the nearest walkway, Nadia quickly looked herself over. Not much change, all things considered. She considered ditching the armor the spirit gave her since it didn’t fit her image, but it felt light enough that it didn’t seem like an impediment, and in fact she felt lighter overall, even with 2700 Pounds of Justice making her much heavier than she looked. She’d need to check her new hairstyle in a mirror, but the ponytail would probably be cute. Then again, such a moment of reflection would once again lead her to stare at her own features a little too long, trying to discern the discreet changes in sizes and shapes of a face that both was and wasn’t quite hers, too subtle for her subtly altered brain to perceive. Such was the nature of spirit fusion, and Nadia was no stranger to it. What was this, her fifth…her sixth? By now, she doubted anyone she’d know from her own world, like Yu-wan or Minette, would be able to recognize her. Yet Nadia still felt like she’d managed to choose well enough to keep to the core of who she was: a beautiful but deadly warrior.

Nadia narrowed her eyes. Wait, was that her own-self image…? She was a thief, not a warrior! And what about her fun, friendly, pun-loving side? Couldn’t forget about that! Nadia chuckled nervously, then shook her hair, tilted her head, and smacked one side with her palm to get the doubts out of her ear along with the water. Even as she tried to focus, she couldn’t help but think about Taokaka and Bullet, both of whom had been very similar to her in appearance. Taokaka’s speed and Bullet’s explosive strength could be very useful too, although Nadia had doubts about the other catgirl, considering her stupidity. “Playing with fire,” she muttered before clearing her throat. “Whatever. Enough fusion ‘fur’ today.” After her little dip, she was covered in goosebumps thanks to the breeze. Nadia pulled on her coat and boots, then set off on a stroll around the Pools to clear her head and stay warmed up. And if she happened to see any other spirits thrown out with the bathwater, maybe she could fish them out for the other Seekers, too.

---

Although Big Band was alone with his thoughts, he was by no means by himself. No matter where one went in the Pools tier at this time of day, there were plenty of people and yokai watching, coming, and going. In fact, between the sheer preponderance of people and his own ruminations, the seasoned detective actually failed to notice as an unexpected ally stole up on him, sheltered from the drizzle by a red paper umbrella. When Primrose got his attention with a glib remark, Band turned toward her with a wry smile on his face. If he looked half as bad as he felt, it wouldn’t be too hard for her to guess at what had transpired in his last match.

“I wish,” he grunted wearily. “First round wasn’t too bad. Lost ‘cause I wasn’t ready for a couple of his tricks. Round two though, sheesh. Got in my head and beat me like a drum. Beat me at my own game.” He let out a sigh of resignation. “Well, what can I say. You win some, you lose some. With Miss Sakura in the picture, we probably got the tourney on lock anyway. And I ain’t outta the runnin’ just yet. Still…a couple better choices, and I mighta been singin’ a different tune.”

His gaze wandered for a moment as a competitor in a nearby match used a flashy reversal super to blow through her foe’s pressure and send him flying across the arena, almost out of bounds. Then he looked back at Primrose. “Though, if I do ‘drown in pools’, like they say ‘round here, it ain’t all bad. Between G-Corp, the UN, the Kings, and the Consul, it sounds like Esaka’s got plenty of leads that need investigatin’. I figured it was never gonna be as simple as winnin’ the tournaments anyway. Long as there’s two people in the world, someone’s gonna find a way to make things complicated.”

He doubted that Primrose came bearing any news about the others’ involvement with the Power Stone Games, since it had scarcely been half an hour since everyone parted ways, but if he had allies who wanted to look into something and enough time until his next match, the detective was happy to make something happen. “You here to sightsee, or didja come lookin’ for a gumshoe with a job in mind?” Rain dripped from the brim of his fedora as he regaled the dancer with a questioning raised eyebrow.

Winterhold College - Gaping Hall

Setting: Labyrinthine Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (12/100) Level 7 Heismay (56/70)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 836 / 734

As Ramattra and Sandalphon finished up, Edward stepped into the room. He’d been here once before, so rather than marvel at the lavish restroom, the strategist was all business. ”There is a side passage down in the pit which leads to the layer of a monster of some sort, as well as an electrified sword. I am unsure if there is anything beyond the foe, it destroyed my scout, but it may be worth retrieving slash investigating,” Edward explained, having conjured another such scout drone while they worked in the bathroom.

This he sent down into the pit a moment later to check on the fate of the fallen.

Having done this, he then commented”As for the size of the structure, I suspect these rooms exist in some suspended extra dimensional space rather than physically in the structure we observed,” regarding Sandalphon’s confusion on the size of the maze, before pointing towards the large frosted over window behind the bathroom and noting that ”At the very least, that window is not letting in the dimness of the eternal night that should be outside.”

The archangel nodded as she turned to face him, ready to continue. “That would explain such logical inconsistencies.” As the three exited through the gilded black doors and returned to the balcony, Edward’s drone arose from below to deliver its report. No signs of the four gumdrop creatures in the watery cave at the bottom of the pit, it seemed, but Sandalphon wasn’t exactly sweating. The four had been in quite the hurry, but even if they’d met their end rather than skedaddled to the next room in search of a bathroom, what’s done was done. They Seekers couldn’t wrack themselves with guilt over the lives of a couple random strangers in this place, especially when their objectives had been at odds in the first place.

Sandalphon used Vault to gain some altitude, then floated over to the end of the hallway opposite the door to the Archmage Quarters. Edward fluttered after her on angel wings, while Ramattra made use of his strong jumping ability. Once all three were ready, doorstop in hand, Sandalphon pushed open the grand oaken doors to reveal the next stop in the Seekers’ journey.

Library of Negated Words

The trio entered a tall, vaulted space, dimly lit by the light that filtered through a grate several stories up. Its dark, dreary stone and architectural style would have convinced Sandalphon that this library was a dungeon if not for the shelves upon shelves of books, although given how said books seemed to be secured behind bars, chains, and gratuitous locks, maybe her first guess wasn’t that far off. Papers covered in black, blotted-out text littered the ground, and ghostly green librarians, cloaked and cowled, floated to and fro in ceaseless procession. They took no notice of the new arrivals, but the same could not be said for the somber watchman, his face hidden beneath a leathery hood and wide-brimmed hat. Keys jingled in the ring in his hand and around his neck, and the lantern he carried flickered in the dark, as he strode toward the Seekers and their cats.

“I, Diosdado by name, night watchman by trade, am in your mercy. You have my gratitude for having silenced such an unbearable sound.” He held up his keyring. “What key have you need of?”

The man’s gratitude took Sandalphon by surprise, since she had no idea what he might be referring to, but the archangel wasn’t someone to shirk an unexpected blessing. After the revelation Edward gleaned from Urag gro-Shub, she felt that there was only one room on everyone’s mind. “The Dice Room,” she requested, and dutifully Diosdado supplied the team with a glinting golden key, its bow replaced by a two-dimensional die.

Since the Library of Negated Words featured two additional sets of doors in addition to the one now propped open by a doorstop, the Seekers could either go straight to the Dice Room, open up a different new room, or -as suggested by Ramattra back in the bathroom- both, using their numbers to divide and conquer.

As they considered their options, Diosdado peered at Lucy and Sir Packet Lossalot. “These must belong to the mindful mistress,” he murmured.

Sandalphon turned toward him, her pupil a question mark. “Whom?”

“Satori Komeiji,” Diosdado pronounced. “Keeper of cats. Even the spirits here fear her, but returning her charges may earn her favor.” When Sandalphon did not reply, his gaze shifted toward the middle distance as he watched over the forbidden books. “At times,” he mumbled. “During the most profound silences, you can hear the gold melting within the rock, within the very roots…”

Hearing nothing, gold or otherwise, Sandalphon elected to keep his words in mind but leave him to his thoughts as the Seekers pressed on.

---

Just as the Seekers were about to move on from the potion garden, with Heismay happy to take his customary role as point man, one of the doors swung inward to admit a familiar faceplate. The iconic blue, gray and white gave her away as Blazermate, the team’s medic, relieved from her lonesome wandering of the labyrinth at last. “Oh, Blazermate.” Heismay glanced past her and caught just a brief glimpse of a spacious, brightly-lit room behind her before the door creaked shut and the room beyond it was lost. “Tis good to see you again. It seems that we’re reassembling the team, bit by bit.”

Of course, since the potion garden was a dead end with only one way in or out, Blazermate had to turn right back around the moment that she finished saying her hellos. Every minute spent in the scrambled halls and chambers of Winterhold College was one lost from their trek up Moon Mountain, so the team needed to get a move on. Truth be told, even after a little peace and quiet, Heismay still felt antsy. It wasn’t just the (admittedly high) likelihood of running into more awful rituals, either; with no clues at all as to how the heroes might get out of this place, he felt more and more worried that they might actually be stuck. Nothing for it but to compose himself and push forward, though, so that was just what the eugief did.

Postulant’s Parlor

Within Heismay found a complex of nine interconnected, practically identical rooms reminiscent of a gothic cathedral, with ashy stone, marble floors, and opulent amounts of wrought gold or bronze lavishly decorating its brilliant windows and ribbed vault ceiling. The opulent furniture, lined with if not wholly forged from the same precious metal, gave it a palatial, almost mythical quality, as if Heismay had just stumbled straight into a scene from legend. The light that streamed through the frosted glass surprised him, not just since its golden hue spoke of the late evening, but also because the Frozen Highlands ought to be dark as night outside. Though in this impossible space, it wasn’t that exceptional an oddity. He could also see plenty of yellow candles with pale, almost white flames, trailing upward like ghostly wisps.

In the innermost of the nine rooms, into which he could see due to the lack of connecting doors, he spotted what looked like a six-winged figure, motionlessly bent over a game board on a table. Carefully, Heismay moved across the second room and into the central fifth room for a better look. The figure did not react as he approached, nor when he cleared his throat and attempted to get its attention with a tentative “Hello?” On closer inspection, it appeared to be a stone statue, although in this world that had no bearing whatsoever on the question of whether or not it might be a threat.

Unable to see atop the table due to his height, Heismay climbed atop the empty chair opposite the statue for a better look. It turned out to be a game he recognized, a simple one that any bored or off-duty soldier could partake in with a handful of pebbles and a stick to scratch lines in the dirt with: three men’s morris. This version happened to feature six chess pieces, three black and three gold, instead of stones, but the principle was the same. Once he realized this, his gaze shifted to the faceless statue. “Hm…” Despite knowing the game, he hesitated to involve himself. There was obviously magic afoot. If someone played, what did they stand to win? And what did they stand to lose?

When Heismay climbed down and expanded his search around the nine rooms, he began to get an idea. Every outer room featured at least one door, and while the outer doors in the four even cardinal rooms looked like all the others in the labyrinth, the odd ordinal rooms had different doors. In addition, most of them were blocked by a portcullis. The only open doors happened to be the oak door the Seekers entered through in room two in the south, and the oak door in room six to the east. Upon returning to the game board in the center, the sharp-eyed eugief nodded. “The unlocked rooms match the gold pieces,” he said aloud. “How curious…”

Graveyard Orbit

Eventually, the intensifying slope of the ridge turned Bandit’s headlong sprint into a jog, then a trudge, before the grade finally grew so steep that she couldn’t continue without the aid of her hands. From there she ascended one handhold or foothold at a time, careful to not slip on loose dirt or put her full weight on a loose rock. Her digitigrade legs, with their more prominent knees, made it more difficult to climb vertically. The thrusters built into her calves, however, meant she could skip tricky sections with a well-aimed, short lived boost that effectively gave her a double jump. Sadly, as fun as flipping through the air was, Bandit knew she needed to ration her energy until she could lay her hands on some battery packs. Plus, having an optic in the front of her collab limited her ability to look upward, so the climb wasn’t without its challenges. Still, as a TABS-EVA unit built to withstand the rigors of asteroid mining in the vacuum of space, a little rock was nothing she couldn’t handle.

A few minutes later, Bandit finally reached a high point in the ridge. Not quite the tippity-top, but still a good vantage point, and bare except for a couple scrubby, nigh-colorless bushes. She didn’t need to breathe, technically, but based on how much her climb had drained her batteries, using her voicebox to gasp and wheeze felt appropriate. “Haah! Haah! Haah!” After a couple seconds spent stooped over and heaving with her hands on her knees, she wiped the grit from her lens with the back of her hand and straightened up to gaze out across the arid, xeric shrubland. Yep…it sure was a rugged, barren wasteland, a trackless expanse of sandy, rocky brown dotted with dark or pale green. She could see some mesas, spires, and mountains in the distance, but what concerned her most lay much closer: the town.

From here, Bandit felt pretty confident that nobody could really see her. Or if they did, they at least probably wouldn’t know what the heck they were looking at. Unfortunately, she couldn’t really see them either. For all the useful functions built into her multipurpose body, long-range observation wasn’t one of them; even without a lot of desert dust in her eye, the android could make out little other than the vague, grayish-brown outlines of buildings and dark gray machines, maybe pumps of some kind. Those dark patches that adorned many of the roofs were probably solar panels, meant to make the most of the brutal sunlight out here.

Bandit crouched down amongst the bushes, hesitating. Though she sprinted this way with an awful lot of confidence, the fact of the matter was that she knew pretty much nothing about how things worked down here. She’d gotten a feel for how scrappers and spacers operated during her time up in the wild black yonder, but she’d had her fair share of painful learning experiences. What if these settlers were the shoot first, ask questions later type? Honestly, she was pretty intimidated. Maybe…it’d be smart to stick with the others.

Turning this way and that, Bandit looked around. Wait, where were the others?

When she looked back down the ridge, she found the bulk of them right about where she left them. Right…organics couldn’t move as fast as she could, especially in such an inhospitable environment. Making up her mind, Bandit began to retrace her steps and climb back down to rejoin the prisoners. At least going down was much easier, especially with shock-absorbing legs.

A few minutes later, Bandit trotted back up to the main group of prisoners. Some had taken a detour, headed in the direction of some dilapidated homesteads the android hadn’t noticed. Others, like the white-haired kiellar woman and the pale cyborg, were gone altogether. Bandit spotted a makeshift shelter constructed from badland debris, which surprised her, given Vaehach’s bellowed command earlier. Maybe he wasn’t quite as in charge as he thought he’d been?

Regardless, Bandit gave the group a wave. “Hey y’all. Scuse me for runnin’ off, I guess I got the wrong impression. Got an eyeful of that town over yonder. It’s a li’l on the rough an’ tumble side. Figured that waltzin’ in there all on my lonesome ain’t gonna give the best impression, hehe...” She scratched at her headless neck self-consciously, trying to play it cool and not suggest that she’d just been too chicken to go any further. “So, uh…whatcha up to?”

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

Esaka, the Tiered City - the Pools

Setting: Drizzly Friday Morning
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (267/150) Level 11 Big Band (209/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1674 / 976

In the few seconds given to her before the start of her third qualifier match’s final round, Nadia took a few deep breaths to calm her pounding heart. The adrenaline pumping through her veins had her feeling like a live wire. It allowed her to hit harder, move faster, and think better, but with too much juice she could just as easily overdose, and once the wildfire burned down she’d be left burnt out. So much exertion and split-second decision making took a toll on the body, and she’d have broken a serious sweat if not for today’s weather. The cool breeze and light drizzle felt paw-sitively heavenly on her skin now that she’d shed her coat. Around her island battlefield, various spectators cheered on the two teams, low in number but highly motivated by the dueling catgirls. Some even seemed to be cheering for her! Nadia licked fresh rainwater off her lips and smiled as she blew kisses to her few fans. Today, she truly was in her element.

Opposite her, Bullet helped Taokaka to her feet. The other catgirl looked a little woozy from the beating Nadia had given her in round two, but with a vigorous shake of her head Taokaka was looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed once more. “You’re so mean, Big Sis!” she complained. Nadia instinctively bristled at that nickname -it felt so weird!- but at least it beat ‘Blue Eyes’.

“What, never taken a good hit be-fur?” the thief called back, her hands on her hips. “Gonna have to get used to it real quick. Losin’ just ain’t within my purr-view!”

Bullet played it cool with a smirk. “You already lost once. So we got knocked down…so what? Now we’re motivated, that’s all.”

Taokaka giggled excitedly. “Yeah, you tell ‘em, Butt Floss! Let’s kick these kitties to the curb!”

While Robo-fortune didn’t deign to add to the conversation, as per usual, Nadia could tell that everyone was ready to settle this once and for all. She sharpened her claws and got ready to fight, a smile on her face. Her opponents had scared her at first, but she’d proven they could still bleed, and if they could bleed, she could win.

ROUND THREE: FIGHT!

Taokaka sprang forward as Nadia unleashed the pressurized blood in her legs to superjump high into the air. “Robo, cross them out!” At her call, her Kameo leaped up after her, then paused to fire the pink X-ray of her Variable Cutter downward. It was easy for Taokaka to dodge, but it took her focus off Nadia as the feral flipped high overhead. “Thunderous…” Narrowing her eyes against the sky, Taokaka stood her ground and blocked high. Dissolving into pure electricity, Nadia streaked downward with Charge and rematerialized just in time to smash down into the ground in a mighty stomp of her Mantreads. “Ap-paws!” The resulting shockwave hit Taokaka low, and with a yelp she lost her footing.

Too pleased that her gambit paid off to register the pain, Nadia pivoted forward with a light low kick, then planted her hands to strike with her disjointed leg, then tail. “One, two!” From there she pulled her head off and thrust it forward to pierce with hardened ears, launched with a light Fiber Upper, and snapped up to continue the combo. At that point, knowing how long Nadia’s combos could be and how early in the round it was, Bullet made an executive decision. She ran in to break the combo with a wild uppercut followed by all-out high kick: her trademark Cutting Sheer.

Knocked backward, Nadia flipped and landed on her feet just as Taokaka pushed in with a claw dash, now at advantage. She knew a blistering blockstring was on its way, but with no tension there wasn’t much she could do. The feral deflected her foe’s first hopping swipe, then crouched to guard against the follow-up low, then rose when Taokaka hopped again, only for it to be an empty jump as she landed without attacking and went low again. Her low sleeve swipe started a combo involving slide kick, rising knee, jump cancel into airborne swipe, double claw slash, and claw dive. Unable to call upon her own Kameo for a combo breaker, Nadia grit her teeth and bore an onslaught of slashes and kicks that carried her across the stage, closer and closer to the water.

Taokaka’s combo finally came to a close with Cat Spirit One. When Nadia hit the sand, her foe went low with her to force her to rise with jagged clawblades. Nadia pushed herself into a low block, then pushed her opponent away with a couple light swipes. The two traded jabs in a quick, tense exchange that ended the moment that Nadia could call in Robo-fortune. “Death from above!” Her Kameo jumped and opened her chest as pink energy welled around her heart, only for Nadia to dash forward and grab Taokaka before she could even block the downward Theonite Beam. “Psych!” In a flash she pulled out enough muscle fiber to wrap Taokaka in a visceral yarn ball, which she toyed with for a moment (“A purr-fect plaything!”) before she slurped her fibers back in and started a combo.

Knee, heel, tail, and nail–Nadia assailed her foe with a flurry of blows in her creatively segmented style. Early on it looked like she’d knocked Taokaka too far away to continue, but after using Fiber Upper to get some height, she spent her Tension on Feral Edge to plunge downward, slash Taokaka upward, and then sneeze her own head off to bash her rival even higher. “Comin’ achoo!” After that she struck a couple times, then spiked Taokaka downward into her own head for the juggle. Without any Tension she couldn’t finish with Furserker Purrage, but a brief unchain combo worked well enough.

Finally, Taokaka rolled to her feet a little older but not even a little wiser, now behind the headless cat burglar on life. Nadia dashed to the right, then sent her head blasting toward her foe. Taokaka gleefully let loose a wicked hooked slash that caught Nadia’s head and cut deep into her cheek. “OW!” she yowled as her body ran up to take full advantage of the distraction. “Butthead!” She jumped and landed bottom-first on her foe’s exposed noggin, burying it in the sand. Taokaka flailed helplessly, trying to pull free as Nadia slashed her back again and again. After a moment the feral backsprung off, but as soon as her foe pulled her head out and started spitting sand, she found herself yanked off the ground by her leg, whirled around luchadora-style, and flung straight into the stage’s horizontal tree with a CLONK.

Landing in a heap, Taokaka cried out. “Heeeelp!”

In reply, Bullet vaulted over the tree. Nadia steeled herself, but even she wasn’t ready for the full-force explosive blast of Bullet’s Rage Aggressor. “You’re HISTORY!” The huge explosion, so loud that even the spectators could feel the aftershock, guard crushed Nadia, and thanks to her poor stance she flew backwards and went tumbling across the sand.

By the time she recovered, ears ringing, Taokaka was already zipping across the stage in a lightning-fast zigzag. She then sprang over Nadia’s head, bounced off another palm tree, and shot toward her from behind. The feral turned to block in time, but Taokaka bounced upward on hit, dropped a bowling ball that landed with a painful crack on Nadia’s shoulder, and airdashed away. “Aaaaaagh,” the thief groaned, clutching her broken bone.

Taokaka landed a short distance away and turned to take advantage gleefully, only to realize something was off. “Hang on, where’s-?”

“Lookin’ for this?” Nadia’s detached heat sank her teeth into the bare calf of her opponent, who screeched. She performed a manic side-to-side dance, then unleashed Imma Beat the Crap Outta You in a desperate -and perhaps foolish- attempt to close out the fight. She missed as Nadia’s body jumped, landed right beneath her in a kneeling position, and received a counterhit Flying Screen Door right to the dome. It left her stunned, a sitting duck as Robo-fortune came in to bail her exhausted partner out with Catastrophe Cannon Alpha. Two gigantic pink beams, brilliant enough to draw eyes from all around, blasted Taokaka into unconsciousness.

ROUND THREE: MS FORTUNE AND ROBO-FORTUNE WIN!

Amidst the cheers and boos, Nadia numbly stooped to pick up her detached head from the sand, careful not to hurt her poor shoulder. “We did it?” She stuck her head back on, wiped as much blood as she could from the huge cuts in her cheek, and sprouted a wide smile. “I mean, of course we did it! Score one for the Fortunes! I mean, more like score three or somethin’ at this point, but who’s countin’?”

Her Kameo stared at her. “An adequate performance. I have several pointers.”

“Can it wait?” Nadia sighed. After massaging her shoulder, she waved at the crowd, then raised and shook her fist in victory. “Yeah, I better hear some cheers! Make some noise for the future champion of Mortal Kombat, people! Shao Khan? More like Shao Khan’t! I ‘Shao’ defeat him!” She continued to showboat and egg on the spectators until Robo-fortune pulled her, yowling, from the stage.

---

Once the dust settled, Big Band found himself a stone bench among the tier’s walkways, surrounded by ongoing pools matches, and parked himself there to catch his breath. No matter which way he sliced it, he’d been thoroughly outclassed by Potemkin. He wasn’t about to obsess over his loss and let it get to his head, since he’d known his limits from the start and there were always bigger fish out there, but it didn’t hurt to mull over what had happened in hopes of learning something.

The second round had been a blowout; that much was obvious. Unaware of just how scary Potemkin’s grab game was, he’d made the wrong choice a few too many times, started to panic, and paid the price. Not much more to it than that. In the future, he would simply have to be more careful around grapplers and fight from a greater distance, despite his own distaste for projectile-happy zoners. Band focused more on the fight before that. The first round between the two giants had been explosive, but competitive. Each traded a few hefty blows, with Potemkin’s shorter, harder-hitting strings comparable to Band’s longer combos.

If the detective had to hazard a guess where he went wrong, it might have been his choices on defense, especially against that brutal cannon blast that Potemkin called Garuda Impact. Even when it struck his block, it left him so discombobulated that his foe practically had free reign to walk up and either continue his pressure or go for a throw. It was a simple but fearsome game plan: Potemkin inspired fear with the raw destructive power of his grabs, applied oppressive blockstun, forced foes to scramble to avoid said grabs, hit them during their evasive actions, then grabbed them when they second-guessed themselves.

Well, Band reasoned, Chances are I won’t run into him again. Every cloud had its silver lining, he supposed. Even dropping to the Losers bracket.

Band had never labored under the delusion that he’d be the one taking home the gold in the World Warrior tournament, especially not with Sakura as the team’s natural ace-in-the-hole, but he’d still wanted to pull his considerable weight. The Pools might be clean and clear in the beginning, but in the Losers’ bracket was shark-infested, with plenty of blood in the water. Everyone would be desperate. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he flunked out, so his own survival would be his primary concern. Sure, fatalities were ostensibly a Mortal Kombat thing, but in Galeem’s world the only constants were death and Moebius.

Once he finished reflecting, Band continued to rest. Although Potemkin had done a number on him, his outer shell could take a lot of punishment, and he didn’t see any lasting damage that would impair him in future fights just yet. That meant he could devote his full attention to nearby matches, scoping out potential future opponents and maybe learning a thing or two via observation.

His attention first landed on the bout with the most spectators, so many that the detective could only see the action thanks to his remarkable height. It involved a stern, traditional-looking martial artist in a white gi and a lean, blue-and-white werewolf. Despite the wolf’s savage claws and teeth, the fight seemed to be a straightforward (but intense) clash between karate and kung fu, with the werewolf even wielding nunchaku here and there. Band gleaned the combatants’ names from the onlookers’ cheers and jeers: Ryu and Jon Talbain. Both sounded like fighters of some renown, but the paradoxically plain-looking Ryu seemed to totally eclipse his opponent’s popularity. His was a no-nonsense, rock-solid all-rounder fighting style, with some technique for every situation backed up by surprising damage. Jon’s mobility and blazing strikes gave him a potent bag of tricks, but in the end Ryu was just too experienced. He came back from an initial disadvantage to take the match two rounds to one.

There were more matches practically everywhere Band looked, and all offered their own brand of entertainment. Nearby, a Losers match was ongoing between a burly blonde lady wrestler and a jacked brawler with orange garb and stylish red sunglasses. Both looked like skilled grapplers, so their bout was essentially a bombastic wrestling match. Their fight went fast and messy as they traded high-damage throws, with both constantly jumping to evade their opponent’s grasp, and Band gradually lost interest. By the time he looked away, Orville had gained a substantial lead.

A much stranger clash garnered the detective’s attention next: a mad scramble that pit a cheerful hamster scout and an edgy ninja against one another. It was a game of cat-and-mouse game between an obligate zoner and obligate rusher, with the speedy Chipp Zanuff chasing his opponent down while the wily Teemo fled and kept him at bay with his slingshot, poison blowdarts, and explosive mushrooms. As amusing as their antics were, they did not offer much in the way of instructional value, other than teaching Band that he really didn’t want to fight either of them. But especially not Teemo.

According to a nearby tournament board, it would be a little longer before Band’s next match, so he could continue to conserve his energy while watching other matches. It would be nice if a fellow Seeker happened upon him so he’d have someone to talk to, but Esaka was a big city, and there was no telling who might cross his path.

---

Maybe Bartholomew and Marguerite reminded Asuka of Lili. They were all snotty blonde rich kids in their own right, after all. At least Lili had, over time, built up something of a friendly rivalry with her old nemesis, but Asuka had no intentions to extend these two the same courtesy; she had a match to win, and their gimmicks were starting to grate on her nerves.

“Ikuzo!” Fully recovered from the chip damage of the twins’ Shot Loaded Right, Asuka charged. She dashed forward, then channeled her momentum into a spinning hook kick to catch the Bogards’ attempt to sidestep. Without Fortified Wager, after all, they stood to gain little from blocking. A sidestep of her own led into a dangerous advancing palm that just barely whiffed. She recovered fast enough to guard against Bart and Marg’s own kick, then ducked as they followed up with punches and lashed out with a revolving elbow strike.

This time it connected in a skull-rattling counterhit, and the pink flash ignited into a fiery blaze as Asuka’s Heat Mode engaged. “Here we go!” As Asuka sprinted forward, bluish-green lights flickered around her forearms like firefly swarms. The twins barely blocked her revolving hook punch, only to be opened up as Asuka dealt them a reckless overhead hammerfist. A one-two slug into uppercut sent the pair spiraling into another revolving elbow, after which Asuka spent her Heat to rush forward again for a thrust kick to extend the combo further. A spinning kick-punch-punch-kick chain knocked Bart and Marg further and further back, but in a stroke of luck Asuka’s uppercut finisher fell short at the last second, and the twins hit the ground a few paces away from the stage’s edge.

“...Ow,” they groaned, now aching all over. They felt like they’d been hit by a truck, and with that firefly-like aura still around her arms, Asuka wasn’t done yet. As they rose their foe pushed forward, determined to not give them any chance to fight back. They blocked for their tournament lives, then managed to get a crucial sidestep to Asuka’s blind side as she pressed the attack. Before she could round on them with a strike Marg managed to grab hold of her for a second while Bart got behind her. When Marg gave her a strong push, Asuka tripped over Bart’s leg and stumbled several steps before she fell flat on her back.

The twins made the most of the opportunity. “This one’s on me!” they echoed as they used Cornerstone Deluxe to replenish their amber shields. As they caught a much-needed breath, they briefly glanced at their teammates. Jun had disappeared, meaning that Amaterasu had probably knocked her into the water already, while Lei and Captain Falcon were fighting tooth and nail. Then, to the twins’ shock, the graying supercop managed to turn the tables on Falcon and flip him off the stage. In an instant, the situation had changed. They were no longer fighting for their pride as fighters or Lost Numbers–the team’s position in the tournament depended on them. And here they stood, panting like dogs and barely standing as Asuka got to her feet, not even sweating.

“Do we gotta, already?” Bart sighed.

Marg reached up to her collar, where a half-amber, half-aventurine broach glinted dangerously. When her hand closed around it, light shone from between her fingers. “We gotta. It’s go big, or go home!”

Asuka paused as her opponents tore off their half-and-half brooches, their fine clothes billowing in a sudden wind as light suffused their bodies, their voices synchronized. “Witness the power that was granted by THEM!”

When the light died down the twins were gone, replaced by a single entity. They floated half a foot off the ground, a featureless ink-black mannequin clad in an exquisite but almost comically elaborate brown suit and longcoat studded with amber and accented with gold, including gold longclaws, plus a peacock turquoise highlight. A fluffy white fur collar led up to a full-face peacock feather carnival mask and knee-length blonde hair, topped with a bowler hat with both peacock feathers and an amber crystal. This being had four arms, two buried in their coat’s pockets while the other two stretching out in a basking gesture.

Though taken aback for a moment, Asuka scoffed. “Am I supposed to be impressed?” She launched forward with a flying side kick. Bart-Marg lifted their two free arms to block it, and when the kick made contact, seven golden gems popped out. The deluge distracted her for the fraction of a second Bart-Marg needed to get beneath her guard and nail her with a low kick, then pivot around into an upward turning high kick. A somersault axe kick led into an upside-down upward corkscrew, an approximation of their grandfather’s Rising Tackle made possible by this form’s limited flight.

Asuka sailed high, hit the ground after Bart-Marg did, and rose with gritted teeth to see four giant dice get flung into the air. After a brief pause, the four dice shot down like meteorites, forcing Asuka to block while Bart-Marg stockpiled ambergold. “All in!” Poker chips rained down, chewing through even more of Asuka’s strength. She knew she needed to make a move, and charged in. This time she attempted a judo throw, but whether out of perceptiveness or sheer luck Bart-Marg floated back just enough to escape it, then pulled back their arm for a Burn Knuckle.

Time seemed to pause as Asuka canceled her throw and flung her arms in a circle, her hands splayed in an aggressive pose. “I’ve got a present for you!” A terrifying strength filled her as she pulled her arms back for an armored blow to start off some kind of super move. Bart-Marg had only a split second to act, and they put it all on the line.

“Big Spender’s MAD PARTY!”

Canceling their own attack, Bart-Marg disappeared as four dice appeared around Asuka. Her attack hit a die instead of her target, and it popped, displaying the golden number four. Behind Bart-Marg, the characters 4/9 flashed. Confused and anticipating more projectiles, Asuka held back for two more seconds, at which point the dice disappeared and the number display flashed red.

“Ooh, that’s too bad!” Spotlights shone down on Asuka from above, paralyzing her, as Bart-Marg’s true super activated, tearing open a rift through which heaping piles of poker chips rained down. “The winner takes all!” Unable to block, Asuka took the full brunt of Bart-Marg’s attack, and when the chips disappeared the girl lay unconscious on the arena’s floor.

BART AND MARG WIN!

In a flash of light, the twins returned to normal. All eyes were on them, astonished at both the sheer spectacle and the fact that two unknowns had beaten a seasoned favorite. Angry spectators grumbled about Low Tier fighters, cheap gimmicks, and so forth, with many invoking the Heavenly Principles by name.

“The hell was that? Never seen anything like it.”

“Low Tier trash! Low Tiers shouldn’t be allowed in tournaments, period.”

“That shit was mad busted! How do the Principles allow that?”

“I thought these tournaments were about fighting, not playing dice games!”

“Yeah, if I wanted crap like that I’d throw a Mario Party!”

“The Principles are gonna have a field day with those two.”

“Can’t believe she got knowledge checked again…”

Bart and Marg’s hearts were pounding, not just because they’d almost lost disastrously, but also because they’d revealed a core part of themselves in order to pull off the win. Turning to Amaterasu just after the Lei Wulong helped fish Falcon out of the water, the kids urgently beckoned them to follow them and abscond from the arena in a hurry. “C’mon, let’s get out of here!”

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

Esaka, the Tiered City - the Pools

Setting: Drizzly Friday Morning
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (234/150) Level 11 Big Band (157/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1641 / 1051

Nadia grunted as she picked herself up from the sandy ground, a pointed sidelong look sent at her partner-in-crime Robo-fortune who’d been right next to her and more than capable of helping her up. Robo just stood there with her arms crossed, though, and did not so much as glance her way. Instead she stared at the pair’s opposition, hopefully performing some kind of helpful analysis, although Nadia wouldn’t put it past her Kameo to be spiting her instead. Nadia could already imagine all the patronizing criticism that’d be heaped upon her if she tried to talk strategy in any way, so rather than try to appeal to the implacable task master she tried to wrap her head around Taokaka and Bullet herself.

Speed was clearly Taokaka’s primary advantage, used to rush her opponents down and mix them up so fast that it made their heads spin. The feral knew the strategy well, since it happened to be hers too. Her foes weren’t hitting like wet noodles either, with Bullet in particular packing a real punch. In that case, defense had to be their weakness. Nadia didn’t really have any strong evidence for that guess, she just figured that nobody could be good at everything. If she could make some good calls, start her pressure, and bait some reversals, she’d probably be golden. Plus, she could do something that Taokaka evidently couldn’t: use her head. That would be her key to victory.

By now, her opponents were done with their celebratory showboating. Taokaka and Bullet strolled back toward the center of the arena, the latter straightening her jacket with a cocky smirk. “Good work, ‘Kaka,” she told her partner. “We cooked ‘em. One round down, one to go.”

“Hey, don’t count meowt just yet! I’m nyat finished with you!” Nadia declared, grinning as she pulled off her coat and tossed it away to leave just her singlet and boots.

That only seemed to make Taokaka happier. “Ooh, yay! I love toys that don’t break easily. I’m gonna call you…Blue Eyes!”

The hair on Nadia’s neck stood on end when she thought about the nickname for more than two seconds. “Hey wait, not that!” she protested. In a rare moment of clarity, she remembered that being free of Galeem’s sunset-red eyes wasn’t something she wanted advertised in this world. “C’mon, anythin’ else!”

For a moment Taokaka seemed perplexed. Then her toothy smile widened again. “Okay, then I’m gonna call you Big Sister, since you’re like me but bigger.” She giggled, then assumed her fighting stance. “Let’s keep playing, Big Sister!”

Nadia shrugged, then sharpened her claws. Good enough.

ROUND TWO: FIGHT!

Like lightning, Takaka sprinted forward again. This time, Nadia dashed, then whipped around as she pulled her own arm off and hurled it forward like a bolas. “Lemme give you a hand!”

Centripetal force extended her arm’s muscle fibers as it flew, increasing its reach, and Taokaka ran right into it. She yelped as the warm, bloody cords and arm segments wrapped around her, restraining her arms before Nadia’s hand grabbed her by the throat. “Hurk!”

As she struggled, the feral ran forward, pulling off her head to hurl like a bowling ball. “Strike you down!” Her head rolled across the stage, slammed into Taokaka’s ankle, and knocked her off her feet. She let out a muffled cry as sand filled her hood, the air driven from her lungs. As she closed in, Nadia turned around to hook her foot beneath her foe’s head, then launch Taokaka by the cranium with Limber Up. “Heads up!” Taokaka flipped up and backward, straight toward Nadia’s head as she launched herself upward with a sneeze. “Ah-CHOO!” The flying headbutt hit home and bounced Taokaka back toward Nadia.

In a stroke of inspiration, the cat burglar jumped up to grab her out of the air and land with her the way she’d seen Beowulf do. Miraculously it worked, and after kneeing Taokaka in the gut twice, Nadia grabbed the arm she’d wrapped around her foe by the bicep and pulled. It sent the other catgirl spinning backward like a top, and after she reattached her arm, Nadia unleashed her Cat Scratch rekka. “Robo, blast her!” Two slashes paved the way for an El Gato somersault axe kick to groundbounce, at which point she landed in Robo-fortune’s heavy Theonite Beam. After a second, once the pink ray died down and Robo retreated, Nadia extended both arms to grab Taokaka and pull her in. She hopped up and planted both feet on her opponent’s chest in a drop kick, then spun her lower legs like drills for good measure, until a blast of blood pushed the two apart.

“Bluh!” Taokaka hit the ground and rolled, spitting a mixture of sand and blood out of her mouth. “Peh! Peh! Yucky!” When she looked up, there was murder in her round red eyes. “Butt Floss, get ‘em!”

“On it!” Bullet surged forward and used her gauntlet to charge up a Flint Shooter. She eyed Nadia for a moment, then turned to target her detached head as she unleashed a crawling firebomb.

“Uh oh.” Nadia turned her head around and sprayed blood from her neck like a thruster to scoot away from the blast, but the explosion went off close enough to still send her singed head flying. “Yowch!” Her body ran toward it, but so did Taokaka, and the two converged with a resounding clash. Taokaka lashed out with quick slashes that Nadia withstood before shoving her back with a pushblock. Her rival retaliated with a deceptively fast, long-reaching slide kick that set up for a meaty double-palm strike. “Oof,” Nadia grunted as she staggered backward.

Rather than push forward, though, Taokaka turned to bat at Nadia’s head. She launched it up, then playfully smacked it around. When Nadia’s body attempted a more or less blind counterattack, Taokaka ducked beneath it, then hit the falling head with a hipcheck that shot the head straight into Nadia’s belly like a cannonball. “Stop hitting yourself!” Taokaka sang, following up with the magenta slashes of Cat Spirit One.

“Don’t play with your food!” Bullet jumped into finish the combo with Bullet Crossfire, a rocket palm that blasted Nadia into the ground and left her easy pickings for a hefty rolling heel drop.

Nadia scooted backward and sprang to her feet as Taokaka rushed in. As the feral blocked the assault, she called in Robo-fortune to perform Scroll Heel, a low sliding saw kick that forced Taokaka to block instead. Nadia hopped up to perform an quick slash as fast as she could, but Taokaka was even faster, rising to block the overhead. Double-jumping with a somersault, Nadia twisted around in the air to do the same attack again from the other side, and Taokaka adjusted accordingly. She did not, however, account for Nadia’s detached head biting her calm from behind. “WAHH!”

“Gotcha!” Nadia’s Claws for Alarm landed, and her combo began. A dizzying flurry of slashes, kicks, and hyperextended blows kept Taokaka in hitstun long enough for Robo to be able to pitch in again. For the first time, the doppelganger came in to provide a combo extension with the electric explosion of Grounding Pound. That let Nadia keep the pain train rolling with a tandem assault from her headless body and detached head, finishing with the plunging stab of Feral Edge. “Knife to beat you!”

After thrusting Taokaka against the ground, Nadia cartwheeled off her. The other catgirl rose sluggishly, breathing heavily, so she had to be on her last legs for this round. She definitely had Bullet in her corner, though, and Nadia couldn’t call on Robo-fortune yet, so this final exchange was anyone’s game. Sure enough, Bullet charged forward to perform a dash into low sweep as Taokaka took to the sky, claws at the ready. It was a pincer attack, and it was impossible for Nadia to guess who would ultimately strike first.

So she decided not to guess. Nadia darted forward straight forward into Bullet’s shapely legs and took the hard knockdown early, which made Taokaka’s descending Cat Spirit Three slash whiff. Before Taokaka could pull off the move’s follow-up launcher, Nadia interrupted her with Ángel’s Tekitou Rush throw: a palm strike, knee lift, and palm uppercut finisher. Taokaka yelped and landed flat on her back with a whimper, her eyes replaced by cartoonish red spirals.

“Yes!” Nadia raised, hyper-extended, and then pumped her fist.

ROUND TWO: MS FORTUNE AND ROBO-FORTUNE WIN!

The two rounds had been like night and day. Just as Nadia hoped, Taokaka had proved herself incapable of tracking both Nadia and her noggin at the same time, even seemingly forgetting about the head on more than one occasion. “Now that’s what I call usin’ your head!” she crowed. Sure, it might be full of sawdust, but even a box of sawdust could be a potent weapon in the right hands.

“Don’t get complacent like they did,” Robo warned her. “They will not take us lightly in the final round.”

“Ugh, killjoy,” Nadia complained, but she knew that her Kameo was right. They weren’t out of the woods just yet.

---

When Band roused himself with a rumbly groan and heaved himself to his feet, he was worried, but not panicking. He had only a few precious seconds before the next round to put his investigative skills to work and figure out what went wrong, as well as what he could change. Despite his opponent’s disproportionately long arms, reach wasn’t really the problem. He could strike from farther away, especially if he made better use of his spring-loaded Lokjaws. Potemkin wasn’t meaningfully faster than him either.

Actually, the more Band thought about it, the more similar he and Potemkin seemed, even if he lacked any high-tech force fields. The hulking Indian’s Hammerfall mirrored his own Brass Knuckles, and Slide Head served the same purpose as Giant Steps, which meant that he would need to watch his feet if he tried to fight from farther away. Most damning was that anti-air hitgrab, which if he heard it right, was called ‘Heat Extend’...a single letter’s difference from his own Beat Extend. That felt too blatant to be a coincidence. But what possible other explanation could there be? Maybe the similarity stemmed from the life of a past Big Band? Well, regardless, the detective was getting a taste of his own medicine, and he did not like it one bit.

The most concrete difference Band could find (in the brief window afforded to him) was that Potemkin’s more grappling-heavy skillset prioritized raw, oppressive damage over combo length. That wasn’t something Band could really abuse, since it put more emphasis on correct reads than execution, but it was all he had to keep in mind as the light of the Heavenly Principles welled up again. This was it: make or break.

ROUND TWO: FIGHT!

The detective had a plan. If he got a little distance, his much more disjointed Giant Step would help him control space and get into an advantageous position. He stepped back, and as he did Potemkin did something strange. He pushed forward as if to execute a kick, then stopped himself, and the result was a short slide toward Band. Though slight and nigh-unnoticeable, it gave him just the distance he needed to take Band off guard and hoist him off his feet. “Aw, no!”

“POTEMKIN-!” The giant stretched Band’s bell-shaped body across his shoulders as he sprang up, then crashed down with another back-breaking explosion. “BUSTER!”

That hurt a hell of a lot, but as he hurled Band away, the cyborg rolled to his feet. He was still in this and could still crack this case. Potemkin closed the distance fast with Hammerfall. Band stood tall and put up his guard the instant he could, only for his foe to whiff what looked like a headbutt just a foot or so shy. Perfect! Band stuck out his leg to get a combo started with Hot Socks, only for Potemkin’s giant hands to clamp around his sides. “Huh!?”

“Forty-eighth secret art!” Potemkin’s gauntlets blazed, lifting his (and Band’s) massive weight two stories off the ground. When the two slammed back down, the impact was practically meteoric. “POTEMKIN BUSTER!”

This time Band hit the ground harder and rose slower, now at the corner of the stage, his chassis dented and smoking. He gritted his teeth, bewildered and frustrated. If his foe had his own Brass Knuckle, it stood to reason that he’d have his own Emergency Break, too. Whether he’d just made a stupid mistake or that command grab really was just that good, a Potemkin Buster could not be allowed to happen a third time. And yet, his opponent was already trudging forward as Band held back, with no need for Hammerfall at this distance. The detective watched as his foe slid forward again, his arms already raised for another grab, and bet everything on a light Take the A Train.

Miraculously, his own grab snatched Potemkin up as the giant slid forward, just a fraction of a second before Potemkin would have grasped him. Two slams of his arm’s built-in trombone slide dealt some damage before the last pound belted his opponent out. “Hit me…two times!” From there, he connected the two hits of his Glissando double trombone slide to start a combo. His tambourine halves clamped down on Potemkin like a huge pincer with Beat Extend, then shook the jangles to inflict Sound Stun. “Shake shake, clarinet! Shuffle, black…and blue! Shake shake, swing it!” He jumped, struck twice, landed, struck twice, then jumped and struck twice again in a clarinet-heavy assault. Then he touched down with a couple rings from his musical triangle, hit with the low kick pedal of Hot Socks, and used his music-stand side kick to set up a heavy Take the A Train into Super Sonic Jazz. “Lay back, slow train rollin’...Horn Crush!” Bababa-BAM

As Potemkin flew away, Band deployed his bagpipes and whipped up a jaunty tune to give himself armor on his normals. Then he pushed forward with a heavy Brass Knuckle, canceling with Emergency Brake, and ate Potemkin’s wakeup command grab. Helpless panic paralyzed the detective as he found himself sailing skyward once more, pinned on the shoulders of the giant. “Potemkin…BUSTER!”

ROUND TWO: POTEMKIN WINS!

A few seconds passed before Band stirred, half-conscious and aching all over. He dazedly opened his eyes to see Potemkin standing over him, an enormous mitt extended. No way…was it already over?”

“A valiant effort,” the Indian told him.

The detective took a deep, weary breath. Three Potemkin Busters and he was in Losers, eh? Sometimes, he guessed, them’s the breaks. He deployed a large mechanical arm so that Potemkin could lift him up by its Lokjaw fist. “Ya got me good,” he admitted, a wry smile on his face. All around, the spectators clapped, some cheering on his foe’s good sportsmanship. Part of him was angry and embarrassed, and some of the onlookers did seem rather amused by the way things went down, but Band managed to keep his cool. He gave Potemkin a final nod of acknowledgement, then turned to go. Things were only going to get more complicated from here, and he would need every moment of rest he could get if he meant to stand a chance in the shark-infested waters of the Losers’ Bracket.

---

As they arrived at the suspended arena for their first fight, the twins seemed full of confidence, despite everything going against them. They were brand new to Esaka, total unknowns, substitutes for a vanished legend, and oddballs given the fact that they’d be competing as a single, two-in-one fighter. Nevertheless they held their heads high, no matter how many dubious or outright disdainful looks they got. Bartholomew and Marguerite Bogard were here not just to do their part for their team, nor just to fight for the Lost Numbers, but to play their part in saving the world, no matter how small their part might be. That was a mission that demanded only one kind of outcome, and the young gamblers were here to win big.

Out of the three opponents that Team Seekers of Fight were up against, the twins were selected to go up against the youngest, Asuka Kazama, who rolled up on a bicycle and skidded to a stop. At eighteen she still had a few years on them, but it was much less of a gap than them and, say, Jun or Lei, and realistically they expected all their opponents to be older than them anyway. They did not expect Asuka to have so many supporters, apparently the most out of anyone on her team. Plenty of spectators, yokai or otherwise, were cheering the Japanese girl on as she played to the crowd. Bart and Marg put their heads together.

“Guess she’s some kind of big shot?” Bart whispered.

“Guess so. No weapons I can see, so she’s either powers or martial arts,” Marg whispered back.

Her brother nodded energetically. “Yeah. Let’s keep our cards close ‘til we figure out her deal.”

His sister grinned. “Got it. First round’s just data, right?”

“Wait, isn’t there just one round per matchup in this tournament?”

“There is!?”

“You kids done whispering?” Asuka waved from across the arena. Once the had the duo’s attention, she cracked a grin, then cracked her knuckles. “Two on one, huh? Alright, time to teach you a thing or two! Startin’ with lesson one: numbers aren’t everything!”

Returning her smile, Bart used his thumb to flick a poker chip like a coin. “In the name of Preservation…”

Marg stepped forward, snatched the chip out of the air in her fist, and splayed her fingers to reveal a chip between each gloved finger. “We’re going all in!”

GET READY…GO! As soon as the Heavenly Principles started the match, their golden light filling the arena, the twins felt something change. They shared a split-second look of alarm. Was this the Principles’ ‘balancing’?

Asuka started things off with a forward-moving hop kick. Having backed up the moment they could, the kids fell beyond its reach. They wasted no time and called on their power, using their fancy watches as focal points for cosmic amber energy. Seeing her foes up to something, Asuka pushed forward with a backfist, and despite the kids’ use of Cornerstone Deluxe, it connected. When Bart’s head snapped backward from the strike, so did Marg’s, and the side kick that followed the next moment threw both backward. They hit the floor with a gasp, bewildered. Did their trademark shield just not work?

Before they could figure things out, Asuka descended upon them. She delivered a stomp to spur them into action, and when the twins rolled backward to their feet Asuka pushed in with a knee into elbow strike into strong turn kick. This time Bart and Marg blocked, and as they did their amber shield shimmered around them. When Asuka’s blows slammed into their guard, three glittery golden shrapnel gems broke off and fell to the ground nearby. “There it is,” the two murmured in tandem, thinking quickly. So their Fortified Wager barrier would only show up when defending–got it. It wouldn’t have been very fair, they supposed, if the twins could just attack willy-nilly while protected.

Unfortunately, their focus on figuring out how the Heavenly Principles nerfed them meant they missed their punish opportunity, so Asuka attacked again. She stepped forward, pulled back for a half step, then stepped forward again to test their reactions before ducking down to launch a low hand swipe. It hit the kids’ unprotected ankles despite their guard, prompting them to backpedal, only for Asuka to advance and strike them again with a low spinning hook kick. Neither led into a combo, but they kept the Bogards on edge so they couldn’t get comfortable.

Asuka, anticipating some sort of reversal attempt, twisted around with a high elbow thrust wreathed in some sort of pink flash. Luckily the twins blocked it, and two more shrapnel gems clonked to the floor. Bart and Marg rolled to the side, collecting them as they did, then rose quickly to block Asuka’s double jumping snap kick. That seemed to shatter the last of the pair’s Fortified Wager as two more gems broke off, but it looked like a perfect chance to fire off a spread blast of ambergold shardshots. “Crack-!”

“Hi-yah!”

Instead, Asuka’s high turn kick slammed into Marg’s chin, and the kids slumped to their knees where they stood. The karateka’s combo continued with a low revolving backfist, left axe kick, left straight punch, and bombastic backflip kick that sent the Bogards spiraling backward. When they hit the ground, Asuka followed up with another left axe kick, and as the kids finally sprawled out on the floor she began to spin. Not knowing what she was doing, Bart and Marg rolled sideways, which in a stroke of luck turned out to be the correct move as Asuka’s unblockable spinning crescent kick sailed overhead.

Their foe chased them away with another kick, then ran to close the distance, but as they rose to a crouch the Bogards infused the latent power of their ambergold into the ground. “Power Wave!” they chorused, and two shardshots burst up from the ground in a projectile uppercut that cut Asuka’s advance short and popped her into the air with a surprised cry. Rather than try to combo off the launcher, though, the twins ran away, scooping up golden gems until Asuka recovered and wavedashed toward them. Five out of seven wasn’t enough for anything special, but now that they had some play money the kids could make something happen.

They re-upped their Fortified Wager shield just in time for Asuka to crash into it with a strong, upward fist-in-palm strike. It sent one gem skittering, and she continued her momentum to whirl around with a turn kick. This time, though, Bart and Marg sidestepped the strong but straight kick, then belted out their five shardshots in a shotgun blast straight to Asuka’s ribs. “Crack Shoot!” As Asuka tumbled, they collected their one gem, then used the ambergold to send a weak Power Wave across the floor like a fissure.

Asuka hunkered down to block the projectile low. With their opponent’s back now close to the stage’s perimeter, the twins moved in. At the last possible second, however, they stopped short and blocked in Asuka’s face. Her while-standing high kick blasted of two gems of ambergold instead of either twin’s teeth. They anticipated more attacks and continued to block, but Asuka switched things up with a grab. Her hands slipped effortlessly through the Bogards’ shield and she tossed them over her shoulder with a deft throw.

Their backs hit the ground uncomfortably close to the edge. When they tried to roll to the side, Asuka smacked them with a sweep and forced them to rise. From there, she spun into a turn kick with frightening speed, meant to push the twins off the stage even if they managed to block. Instead, Bart and Marg split to either side and lashed out with a desperate hook as the kick passed between them. Their knuckles sandwiched Asuka’s head, stunning her long enough for a double straight punch and double door-buster kick.

Their reprisal didn’t do amazing damage, but it did push Asuka back, who staggered as she struggled to stay upright. As her foes used Cornerstone Deluxe again, she shook her head in derision. “What was that?” She tightened her fists and put them up. “Come on!”

She moved in before Bart and Marg could reposition and launched a flurry of strikes in an all-out slugfest. The twins weathered it as best they could, trying to circle around so that they could backstep out of throw range without falling off the stage, but Asuka kept them pinned. Throughout the assault, though, the Bogards continued to gather up gems. When Asuka grabbed them again and threw them to the ground, they snatched the last two they needed. They scooted out of stomp range and snapped their fingers, calling out “Watch your head!”

“Hm?” Asuka’s eyes widened. Was that some kind of super? When she looked up, some kind of portal had opened overhead, a horizontal gateway to a dimension of glittering wealth. Golden poker chips the size of manhole covers rained down, pounding the karateka’s guard. She gritted her teeth and bore Shot Loaded Right’s chip damage as the twins scurried back to center stage. A moment later and the deluge ended, the hole in reality closed up as if it never existed, and all the chips had vanished with it. She scoffed. “That’s all you got? Too feeble to play fair, huh!”

The twins were breathing heavily. For all her peppiness, Asuka was quite the brute, and their match turned out to be a real trial by fire. Falcon and Amaterasu were still fighting their own opponents nearby, but they couldn’t be distracted right now. They were getting the distinct impression that if Asuka couldn’t win by ring out, she’d win the old-fashioned way: by beating them to a pulp.

Winterhold College - Sinners’ Inn

Setting: Labyrinthine Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (4/100) Level 7 Heismay (55/70)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1179

After introducing herself to the animal spirits who gathered around her at the bar, Sandalphon received a barrage of names in return: Pebble the frog, Mira the rabbit, Crouton the cat, and Dagoberg the crow. The little mice spirits which bounced around energetically did not seem too talkative, and the scruffier of the two cats hung back to mind his own business, though Pebble informed Sandalphon that his name was Grizz. Once they learned that the archangel was just passing through and bid her welcome, most of the ghosts left her in peace to return to their birthday party. Two remained at the bar with her, though: Wailer, a rather morose-looking coyote, and Rusty the mole, who seemed more interested in fiddling with some scrap metal than in celebrating.

Sandalphon settled into her seat, allowing the ethereal yet quietly cheerful music of the Sinners’ Inn’s jukebox to soak through her, and a few seconds later Marla the bird bartender slid the archangel her drink of choice: an elderflower gin and tonic, clear and fizzy, with the shaft of a feather piercing bent slivers of lime. She gently wound her fingers around the glass’s stem and lifted it to her lips. Herbaceous, astringent, mellow…though not sweet, it was pleasant and soothing in its own right. With everything she’d been through lately, of which her stressful visit to the Grand Archives had only been the latest chapter, a little refreshment really helped. Even if it would do little about what ailed her.

Her poor condition wasn’t exactly subtle. With half her face frozen by the Petrification Disease, she must have looked terrible, and her recent dunk in candle wax certainly hadn’t done her any favors. After a few quiet moments, Wailer cleared his throat. “You don’t look so good. Doin’ ok?”

Sandalphon stared at the bartop, her expression downcast and her pupil shaped like a stress mark. When her eyes turned toward Marla, the bird gave her an encouraging smile (or what passed for one for someone with a beak, anyway) and the archangel let out a small sigh. These spirits seemed innocent enough, and she didn’t need to put on a brave face for their sakes. They were already dead, after all, which afforded them some potentially valuable perspective. “Well…when I said that I wasn’t dead yet, I wasn’t just being gloomy.” Her pupil changed into a lowercase letter U. “I’m dying. I don’t know exactly when, but I have less than a week to live. Only a few days.”

Wailer grunted, but the spirits said nothing for a few seconds, allowing her reveal the gravitas it deserved. In the background, the chatter and laughter of the celebrating ghosts sounded muffled and distant. A scratching noise brought Sandalphon’s attention to the stool beside her, where Lucy was trying to climb up, her movements in her enlarged body still clumsy. Sandalphon hesitated to help, knowing that the act would hurt, and to her relief Rusty leaned over to help pull Lucy up. Once the cat could reach the bartop, Marla set out a saucer of milk for her to lap. After another moment, Marla shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

Sandalphon’s unblinking gaze turned toward the middle distance. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve made all the preparations I can. My soul will be entrusted to my comrades. I’m hopeful for a miracle. And yet…” The archangel’s eye slid shut, a rarity for her, and tears welled up beneath the lid. “I…I’m not ready. There are so many people I would have liked to see again. To say goodbye to. And the man with whom I’ve grown close…it would have meant a great deal for him to be there, at the end, but lately he…has not been returning my calls.”

She understood, to an extent. Grief was a terrible burden to bear, and she did not want to force it upon Zenkichi or his daughter, especially if they didn’t want it. Everyone’s position was ultimately tenuous, and sometimes, life forced people to make cruel choices. Still, it hurt. It hurt enough that Sandalphon regretted developing a human heart, far more than she ever did due to fear.

Opening her teary eye, Sandalphon took a long sip from her drink. She glanced at Marla, Lucy, Rusty, and Wailer in turn. “In this afterlife of yours…are there any angels?”

Wailer shook his head slowly. “I ain’t ever seen one.”

“Don’t think so,” Rusty muttered. When Sandalphon looked back at the bartender, she shook her beak from side to side.

Breathing in sharply, Sandalphon swallowed. She tightened her grip on her drink slightly, feeling the cool condensation from the glass run along her slender fingers. “That follows. We came from different worlds, after all. Our journeys were bound to…to end differently.”

Silence reigned for a while longer, but the sound of padded footsteps turned Sandalphon’s gaze to that scruffy cat as he approached. Grizz was his name, she recalled. He stopped at one side of the bar, around the corner from Wailer. “In our underworld, there’s a place called the Palace,” he began in a low, scratchy voice. “And in that Palace, there’s a mirror. A mirror that lets you go home, for just a little while. See your people again. They can’t see or hear you, but I think they know you’re there.” Grizz looked at Sandalphon. “Wherever you’re headed, I hope they got something just like that. And if you do end up with us, we oughta go together.”

It was a beautiful hope, Sandalphon thought, albeit one that seemed logically impossible. Little more than wishful thinking. At this point, though, what harm was a little wishful thinking?

“I hope so too.”

Some time passed before Sandalphon finished her drink. She knew that she should be doing her part to help get the Seekers out of this maze, which would be quite the arduous task if this place was as non-euclidean as the disappearance of the Grand Archives suggested, yet she couldn’t force herself to hurry. Out there were untold horrors and dangers, a whole world’s worth of suffering. In here she had friendly spirits for company, a tasty beverage, and some much-needed respite. Hanging out with ghosts felt a little surreal, but appropriate, and the Sinners’ Inn was nothing if not comfortable. In a sense, Sandalphon felt as if she were owed some real peace and quiet, not the tense and fragile silence of the ice caves last night, in which the whole team could be attacked (or undermined, as it turned out) at a moment’s notice. Was she being a little selfish? Most likely. But since she was going to die soon, a little selfishness felt deserved, for once.

In the end, though, the archangel couldn’t shirk her duty. “I should go,” she admitted, rising gingerly from her stool.

“Must you?” Marla asked.

“My allies need me. I have much that I must do before I can truly rest,” Sandalphon replied softly.

The animal spirits gathered to say goodbye and wish her well, and after another moment Sandalphon turned to go.

Graveyard Orbit

Dusk’s disbelief and consternation did not really register with Bandit. With fewer preconceived notions about how things out in the boundless depths of space ought to be, the android had a better grasp upon the fundamental absurdity of cosmic life and would not be so easily dismayed. Instead, an astute observation from Neri about the android’s incompatibility with headwear turned the her attention the plumber’s way. “Yup! You need some pilferin’ done, I’m yer gal. This ain’t a charity though, sunshine. You wanna put me to work, you’re gonna need to grease my wheels.” Bandit rubbed her two fingers against her thumb. “I ain’t workin’ for IOUs no more, either. From now on, folks gotta gimme their heads up front! Or cash, I guess. Straight to the ol’ deposit box, if ya don’t mind.” She tapped the rim of her gaping neck-hole.

Neri seemed to be under the impression that the marooned prisoners couldn’t traipse around the wasteland in their smallclothes, and honestly, Bandit didn’t follow her logic. What, pray tell, was stopping them? Bandit certainly wasn’t wearing much of anything, just her makeshift cape, which was a very recent addition. And she looked great! At least, nobody else had told her otherwise. When Castleton voiced his thoughts on the possible virtues of near-nakedness, Bandit nodded along. Or at least, she would have, if she had a head to nod with. DANG IT. Between that and being unable to return Jane Marshall’s subtle head nod of respectful solidarity, Bandit needed to find herself a head, and pronto. For other reasons, too, although she couldn’t exactly remember why.

When Larce offered everyone a celebratory smoke, Bandit waved him off. “Nah, tryin’ to quit.”

The other prisoners’ introductions mostly rolled off Bandit’s mind (or lack thereof) like water off a duck’s back. Whether Kieller, Dhasath, Earthling, or otherwise, all the people she’d met in her life were transient, soon to vanish from her personal orbit and never reappear again. She had only so much random access memory, so if these people didn’t want to end up forgotten, they’d need to prove themselves worth remembering. Bandit did, however, somehow get a sense of Ruvulla’s inordinate scorn, a contempt born of odd familiarity. The android’s attention lingered for a moment on the Colonel’s steely face, trying to gauge her intense expression. That look made her skin(?) crawl. Did she maybe know something, something even Bandit herself did not? Probably not…that was an extreme logical leap, even for circuits as fried as hers. “Well, heatstroke ain’t a problem for me,” she muttered. “Not for a spell, at least.”

Although the android had zoned out due to Ruvulla’s disdainful scrutiny, tuning back into the convicts’ primary conversation indicated that some sort of alternative plan was in the works, spearheaded by the suave smoker. It sounded like they wanted to adopt a more discreet approach when it came to robbing the nearby town blind? That sounded a little like beating around the bush, but as long as it lined Bandit’s pockets, it couldn’t be all bad. That magic word ‘mining’ worked wonders for her, and it gave her a newfound appreciation for Larce. WAIT, LARCE? AS IN LARCENY? IS THIS TYPECASTING?

Not everyone was fully on board with the plan, though. People began to hem and haw, pointing out flaws and suggesting alterations. Larce’s scheme quickly got so many holes poked in it that Moly was probably scared shipless. Neri even tried to call a civilized vote to get the gaggle of irritable killers, outlaws, and scallywags organized. Now that was optimism that Bandit couldn’t help but like! When multiple votes for a true honest approach were cast, though, the android sighed. Some people were making an awful lot of assumptions about how much of a team these misfits really were. There was that big lizard for instance, the scary woman rather preoccupied with the big lizard, and Mr. Gasbag. When a gruff but otherwise unidentifiable Kieller man started rattling off societal and historical exposition as a prelude to taking charge, Bandit’s attention quickly drifted toward the ridge that supposedly veiled a colony settlement. “Gettin’ bored real quick…”

When Vaehach’s bellow resounded over the group, it both jolted Bandit out of her reverie and gave her just the excuse she needed. “You got it, hoss!” Without further ado the android launched forward, her servos whirring as she took off in a headlong sprint that quickly ramped up to forty miles per hour. Clouds of dust flew as she raced away at top speed, headed straight toward the ridge. A little rock was no match for a TABS-EVA unit’s agility after all, even in-atmosphere. Once she overcame the terrain, her next stop was the town, with or without any of the other prisoners and their plans.

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

Esaka, the Tiered City - the Pools

Setting: Drizzly Friday Morning
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (231/150) Level 11 Big Band (155/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2307 / 1263

Once Nadia gave Beowulf the skinny on what the Seekers were up to in Esaka and how to get stronger, the two parted ways. They were registered for different tournaments, after all, and needed to report to different parts of the Pools. That left Nadia all on her lonesome once more as she made her way toward her first match, but despite her difficult task and the overcast, drizzly day, the catgirl was in high spirits. “Doin’ purr-etty good!” Honestly, she felt confident about her plot to involve Beowulf. It wasn’t exactly something she’d consulted her fellow Seekers about, but they needed all the help they could get. Doofus or not, Beowulf was a solid fighter and a stand-up guy. Now that he knew about fusion, he could push himself even further and maybe come out on top. Even if he didn’t, he was still free from Galeem’s influence, so Nadia felt like she’d done her good deed for the day.

All that remained was to do her opponents dirty.

To make her final descent to the Pools Tier, Nadia eschewed the crowded elevators (plus the prerequisite detour) in favor of climbing down herself. Her hardened claws raked through the chalky stone bricks of the Middle Tier’s outer cylinder, permitting her a leisurely slide down and an easy jump to a nearby walkway once she grew close enough. When she leaped, landed with a roll, and sprang to her feet amidst fighters and yokai on their way to various arenas, nobody so much as batted an eye. “Morning, everyone! You guys wanna see what peak purr-formance looks like? Be sure to check meowt today!” Nadia tried to dash away, nearly slipped off the wet bridge, and settled for a brisk jog instead.

Within a few minutes, the feral reached her destination: an ordinary round sandbar of an island, featuring a couple slouching palm trees a little else, all only inches above the water level. A torii gate with a gong stood just off shore, and a wooden boardwalk allowed Nadia to reach the arena without even having to jump. To her mild surprise her opponents hadn’t arrived yet, but Robo-fortune, as punctual as ever, was there to greet her. Of course, before Robo could say anything, Nadia regaled her with a look of mock astonishment. “You again!? We’ve gotta stop meeting like this. People are gonna talk!”

Robo’s gaze was lifeless, not to mention humorless. “I struggle to imagine anyone talking more than you do.”

“Sheesh! I’ve met robots with a heart of gold, but you Robo, you’ve got a heart of cold.” Feigning resignation, Nadia turned to look around. Was it just her, or were there way more spectators here than usual? A surprising number could be found leaning on the railings of the walkways that surrounded this arena, and a few (mostly yokai) had managed to make their way to the top of that ceremonial arch. Most of their eyes weren’t on her or Robo, though. Instead their attention lay on a couple of ladies making their way toward the island. A few of them raised their voices in excited cheers.

“Tao-ka-ka! Tao-ka-ka!”

“Bullet, Bullet, she’s our girl! Punch ‘em, smash ‘em, rock their world!”

Another couple seconds later, and Nadia’s opponents arrived in style, traipsing down the walkway one after the other. The moment she saw them, the thief raised an eyebrow. In front, probably the main fighter, sauntered a catgirl with tan skin, platinum blonde hair, and a face shrouded in shadow. She pranced along whimsically, without a care in the world. Only her round red eyes and big toothy smile were visible beneath her hood. Behind her followed what must be the catgirl’s Kameo, a punchgirl with a platinum blonde bob cut, dark jacket, and impressive scar. For a second Nadia thought the second newcomer was a catgirl too, but what looked like a tail turned out to be the very long tailing end of her belt. Still, there was no denying that the two women (one with long sleeves, the other with mismatched golden gauntlets) were cut from the same cloth. Which, in turn, made them uncannily similar to Nadia herself, especially in her new outfit. What were the odds…?

“Taokaka and Bullet, huh?” Nadia put her hands on her hips as the pair approached. “They seem popular.”

“From the BlazBlue dojo,” Robo informed her. “Middle-tier, like us, but with far more notoriety and acclaim.”

When Bullet came to a stop a second later, she crossed her arms. “Ms. Fortune and Robo-fortune, huh? Like we didn’t have enough catgirls already…”

“Catgirls rule!” Taokaka exclaimed, bouncing into a cutesy pose. She beamed at the Fortunes innocently. “Butt Floss, who are these guys?”

“I just said their names, and don’t call me Butt Floss!” Bullet slapped a hand to her head with a frustrated grimace. She gave Nadia and Robo a pleading look. “She’s dumb as a rock. Can’t remember anyone’s name, so we all get nicknames.”

As she spoke, Nadia couldn’t stop giggling. “Butt Floss, huh? The nickname really suits you!” Those jean shorts, if they could even be called that, didn’t leave much to the imagination. Although Nadia really wasn’t one to talk, given her original outfit.

“Hey!” Bullet scowled, her cheeks reddening. “You’ll be singing a different tune once we wipe the floor with you. Hey, ‘Kaka!” Grabbing Taokaka’s shoulder, she pointed at her opponents. “We’re here to fight them, remember? To win Mortal Kombat!”

Taokaka’s eyes widened, although her grin suggested that she wouldn’t have any problem with this. “Oh, okay! Let’s get ‘em!”

ROUND ONE: FIGHT!

The golden light of the Heavenly Principles coalesced on the gong, punctuating its announcement with a thunderous crash. Without a moment’s hesitation, both Nadia and Taokaka threw themselves forward in a headlong sprint. Taokaka’s feet left the ground, so the feral jumped up to meet her in midair. Knife-sized blades extended from the slits in her foe’s sleeves as she carved through the air before Nadia could complete her own slash, leading to an instant and frightening realization: wait, she’s faster than me!?

Taokaka’s claws connected in a counterhit that brought Nadia back to the island’s surface for a full combo. A couple light slaps and kicks led to a double pawlm strike, followed by huge claw slashes fast enough to briefly ignite the air and create magenta trails. After launching the feral upward, Taokaka slashed into and through her, then back the way she came before flipping overhead. A diving slash bounced Nadia off the sand, and Taokaka bent forward to perform a low cross slash before finishing with a forward corkscrew dive.

“Nyow!” Nadia hit the ground and rolled to her feet just in time to see her opponent bring Bullet into the fray.

Taokaka beckoned to her Kameo playfully. “Oh, Butt Floss!”

Teeth gritted, the bruiser charged forward with a heavy straight punch from her big gauntlet. “Smash Hell!” The withering blow, alight with the weapon’s inner flame, just about blew open Nadia’s guard. Bullet whirled around for a revolving hook, and Nadia hunkered down, only to find that Taokaka had already sped forward when she grabbed onto the feral’s arms, planted her feet against her chest, and slammed her with a hooded headbutt that left Nadia flat on her back.

By the time Nadia shook the stars from her eyes, her body hurting, Taokaka was already in the air and about to plunge. She rolled forward into a back-turned kneeling position to cross beneath her foe before she dove downward. “Tin Cans!” At her bidding, Robo-fortune covered her with a heavy Theonite Beam that caught Taokaka as she turned to run forward. Nadia unleashed her pressurized blood to hyper-extend her right arm, grab Taokaka by her collar, and yank her forward into a light Fiber Upper She snapped up after the launcher into a somersault, allowing her to her helicopter-esque Wheel of Fortune into a crushing El Gato axe kick for the groundbounce. “Maid from scratch!” From there she executed the one-two-three slash of her Cat Scratch rekka and finished with Furrserker Purrage, the razor-sharp onslaught leaving the two competitors roughly even.

“Oof, ow!” Taokaka picked herself and shook her head, her blonde braids flying from side to side. “Bad kitties! You’re going to get it!”

After bending over, she launched forward with an incredible burst of speed, zig-zagging so fast that she seemed to leave afterimages. Nadia knew better than to stay still and dodged to the right from the first slash, then back, ducking away to avoid the follow-up. She sprang up to jump over Taokaka, but the spacey speedster leaned back almost horizontally and batted up at her with her paw-sleeves, then jumped herself. Knocked out of the air, Nadia landed off-balance and struggled to block her foe’s Cat Spirit Three, a falling slash that scoured Nadia’s arms. That looked committal enough for the feral to punish, but she guessed wrong. Taokaka used her Rapid Cancel to hop up and catch her adversary with a double clap to the head in a dizzying counterhit. “Hee hee!” Gleefully Taokaka drove herself forward with a pinning scrape that Bullet followed up with a mighty slug. Nadia flew into a palm tree with a loud CRACK, and she slumped to the sand, Taokaka crouched down, then hurled herself forward. “Imma beat the crap outta you!” She pounced on Nadia, then slashed her again and again, until Taokaka got bored, forgot what she was doing, and got up.

With a groan, Nadia pulled herself up off the ground, her legs and clothes coated in gritty sand. She was used to being the best rushdown fighter in the room, and now that she’d gotten a taste of her own medicine, things weren’t looking so hot. She could still win, though, as long as she made the right decisions.

As Nadia rose, Taokaka opened her sleeve and flung a sledgehammer at her. “Kitty Litter Special!”

“Whoa!” The feral sidestepped just in time, and the hammer smashed into the tree behind her in a spray of splinters. Taokaka called Bullet to perform a straight punch (which Nadia managed to check with a low sweep) then jumped backward and sprang off another palm tree with Trick Edge. Her lunging drive attack ran straight into an early reveal of Nadia’s Blue Monday Blockbuster. “Kneed me some damage!” The counter-super stunned Taokaka with a knee to the dome as it popped her up, and after Nadia slammed her down, a bombastic arm swing into elbow drop added insult to injury. “Elb-owned!”

Taokaka sprang to her feet just as quickly, though. She half-stepped away from Nadia’s jabs, then struck back with a series of strikes that put the feral on the defensive again. Finishing with the flailing up-down claws of Cat Spirit One left her safe enough to handspring away, then pull out an apple core as she prepared another Kitty Litter Special. Nadia wasn’t having it. “Not so fast!” She used Charge to zip forward as a bolt of lightning, pierce through Taokaka, and solidify behind her for a couple critical swipes. “Up to bat-tery!” She could combo off this, and Taokaka could probably guess that, but unbeknownst to the dummy Robo-fortune was already on her way to lock her down with Head Swap Action. It was a frame trap, and with the combo it gave her, Nadia would clinch the win!

In a very Ms Fortune move, however, Taokaka challenged not with a jab, but with Cat Person’s Secret Art: Hexa-edge. The reversal super cut clean through Nadia’s set-up, flooring both her and Robo-fortune in a single lightning-flash flurry to close out the round.

ROUND ONE: TAOKAKA WINS!

A moment later Nadia blearily came to, her blurry gaze sharpening to reveal her opponent’s silly victory dance. Spectators were cheering, but not for her. She felt very silly herself, and more than a little frustrated, for throwing away the win with one of her famous ‘great ideas’. Her opponent’s reactions were as razor-sharp as her claws, and the fact that Nadia found Taokaka’s speed impressive was saying something. Add in Bullet’s belligerent power, and these two were dynamite. Nadia lay there for a moment, breathing heavily. Her heart was racing. Part of her knew that she could come back stronger, adapt her fighting style, and steal the win. Part of her was scared, overwhelmed, even though she should be the one doing the overwhelming.

After a few seconds, Nadia took a deep breath, put on a smile, and got up. She’d turned the tables on Maya and Mira, and she’d landed some good hits on Taokaka, so this was definitely doable. She just needed to be better. Faster. Smarter. Her foe was good, but she operated on pure instinct. Meanwhile Ms Fortune wasn’t a feral known for her intellect, but against Taokaka, maybe it would finally be her brain cell’s time to shine.

---

In the Pools tier, not all of the arenas were ringed by bridges or boardwalks; some were little more than docks themselves. For Big Band’s next battle, it looked like he’d be fighting atop a large wooden platform, flanked by two statues caged in by construction scaffolds. Its rather haphazard-looking planks did not inspire a great deal of confidence in the detective, but if the shoddy raft upon which he fought Rhajang actually held, then this stage should, too. There were many eager spectators situated here already, some around the stage’s edge but most on the nearby scaffolds, and it did not take a master of deduction to figure out why.

Potemkin, the detective’s next opponent, was no ordinary fighter. In a city full of big people, Big Band loomed large, but this Potemkin stood taller still. He stood at a gargantuan 8’6”, which made him almost a full foot taller than Band himself, and must have weighed in at well over one ton. That made him about half Band’s weight, but the cyborg was ninety-eight percent heavy metal, and if the slabs of muscle sliding around beneath Potemkin’s tight-fitting olive drab uniform were anything to go, this extremely top-heavy giant was all flesh and bone despite his highly technological helmet and gauntlets. Though, Band highly doubted that such a titanic physique could be achieved naturally. Surely steroids had been involved, if not outright magic.

As Band sized his sizable foe up, Potemkin did the same. The two giants stared one another down in silence as onlookers buzzed excitedly about the behemoth brawl that was surely brewing. Band did his best to catch snippets of their conversation, hoping for some clue about who he was up against, since his adversary seemed to be someone of some renown. He could just barely hear worrisome murmurs about Potemkin’s oppressive pressure, absurd damage output, and dangerous throws. A grappler, hm? He’d assumed as much; nobody with a physique like that would be caught dead hurling projectiles from the far side of a stage. Well, even with his new spring-loaded Lokjaws, an up-close slugfest suited him just fine.

Very few of the onlookers seemed to be in his corner, so Band tuned them out. After a few seconds, he tipped his hat at his rival. “May the best man win.”

Potemkin gave a satisfied rumble as he turned the gesture, his fingers almost the size of his head. “Yes. Here’s to a good fight.”

The Heavenly Principles judged that as the perfect time to begin. ROUND ONE: FIGHT!

“Hammerfall!” With a guttural bellow, Potemkin brought the aggression early and slid forward to bring his fists together in a crushing slam, a trail of blazing sparks in his wake. Big Band blocked it, noted the strong chip damage, then sidled backward as Potemkin backdashed in a small hop. Potemkin then fell forward to slam the ground, using his heavy body splash to create a shockwave. “Slide Head!” By then Band had made a lucky guess, however, and jumped forward with a big-time Cymbal Clash that left his foe’s ears ringing as he rolled backward.

Band sidled forward, then abruptly burst closer with a light Brass Knuckles that Potemkin barely escaped with a backward Megafist, a curious retreating hop followed by a double hammerfist strike. Band jumped forward to try and strike low with a downward clarinet thrust, only for Potemkin to repeat his last move and Megafist forward to strike the detective air-to-air. “Bah!’ Band hit the ground and rolled backward, getting to his feet just in time to block his opponent’s Garuda Impact. The short-range gauntlet blast’s overwhelming firepower crushed Band’s guard, which left him reeling long enough for Potemkin to push forward with a shoulder bash and batter his block once more with a giant flick of his finger. Before Band even fully recovered, his foe was gearing up to jump again.

Enough was enough. “Hit the brakes!” Band scooted forward with one big arm extended for a medium Take the ‘A’ Train. His grab anti-aired Potemkin, (somehow) scooped him into the inner compartment, and slammed him twice before belting him out. Eager to capitalize in any way that he could, the detective deployed his French Horn and rocketed forward. “Super…Sonic!” His Blockbuster struck several times and sent Potemkin skidding across the wooden planks, close to the edge.

A Brass Knuckle canceled via Emergency Break closed the distance as Band’s foe recovered, and when Potemkin went to try and to check him with a deceptively fast low sweep, Band cut through the noise with a pre-emptive Low Rank organ-pipe pierce. “Speak low!” It couldn’t start a combo, but it did respectable damage and left Potemkin eager enough to challenge that he fell afoul of Band’s heavy Brass Knuckle. “Gimme a hit!:

As surprised gasps and worried murmurs filtered through the crowd, Band pressed his advantage. Feeling more confident about his odds, he went for a jump-in Jelly Roll, only for Potemkin’s Slide Head to completely armor through it. The moment Band landed behind Potemkin, the tremor caused by the immense Indian’s headbutt knocked him off his feet. “This blows,” he grumbled. For the second time, Potemkin pressured him on wake-up with Garuda Impact, and this time he was close enough that Band’s attempt to block the fireblast was a fatal mistake. Potemkin seized him as if he were no heavier than a bag of flour, leaped into the air, and slammed the earth with Band across his shoulders hard enough to create an explosion. “GYAH!”

Unceremoniously, Potemkin pulled his opponent off his shoulders and tossed him to the ground. Band got no time to rest, however, as Potemkin forced him to rise with a downward smack and then battered his crouch-block with another blazing blow. “Garuda Impact!” Staggering backward as embers alighted on his trench coat, Band gritted his teeth and watched Potemkin spend some tension of his own. “GIGANTER…KAI!” His gauntlets opened up, spinning, and sparks flew as the high-tech giant unleashed enough energy to create a giant forcefield that began to push toward Band. In another second it would shove him off the edge and into the water, but he very much doubted a strike would dispel it. He had only one chance to act, and a split second in which to do it.

“Hup!” Band jumped, then double jumped over the barrier, just barely clearing it.

Then Potemkin snatched him out of the air in yet another move uncannily similar to one of Band’s own. “Heat…” His gauntlet opened up to unload shell after point-blank shell, finishing with a pile bunker blast that bore a bright pink heart. “Extend!”

The final explosion dropped Band to the ground, and he failed to rise.

ROUND ONE: POTEMKIN WINS!

---

Most of the staple Power Stone contestants were milling around or warming up, either mildly interested or fairly nonplussed by prospective newcomers, but when Juri laid the groundwork for making a scene one young man turned toward the spot where she and the Koopa Kids were loitering. With blonde hair, dull blue eyes (beneath Galeem’s glaze, anyway) and a bright red pilot’s jumpsuit, Edward Falcon looked like fairly standard protagonist material, although at 5’11” and one hundred and fifty-eight pounds, he was on the lighter side. When he spoke it was with a strong British accent.

“Oi, ya cheeky mug, no wreckin’ the place before the games start. You’ll need stuff like that to smash over our ‘eads.” He gave a brusque wave, his manner not hostile but not terribly friendly, either. “Edward Falcon, unofficial ‘ead of operations ‘ere. You lot from the Seekers of Light, I presume? Chevalier said there oughta be a couple on the way.”

Crossing his arms, Edward launched into a brief explanation. “Right then, ‘eres the skinny. Each match is a four-way free-for-all, and the goal’s to be the last one standin’. As for how, well, it’s the old cartoon violence, innit? Unlike the tournaments, we ain’t ‘eavily regulated by the ‘Eavenly Principles. No rounds, no time limit. So smash crates, grab items, throw pies, an’ slapstick your way to vict’ry.” He held up three fingers. “One last thing. Power Stones show up in each match over time. Grab three, and you can Power Change into a stronger form. Perfect for clinchin’ the win.” He gave a curt smile. “Got it? Well, we’re just about to crack on, so find yourself a stage and get your arses in gear.”

The Midnight Walk - Winterhold College

Setting: Labyrinthine Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (2/100) Level 7 Heismay (55/70)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1021

Compared to the Grand Archives, this vault felt quiet, still, and safe. Sandalphon could neither hear the muffled footsteps of undead scholars, nor see any hidden corners where unexpected foes could hide or shoot from. Unlike the candles in the previous room, scattered willy-nilly around tattered and highly flammable old books with no regard for the concept of fire safety, the lamps and sconces in here were both carefully and tastefully arranged.

And in their light, the archangel could see material wealth beyond her wildest dreams. A vast assortment of tomes, armors, weapons, potions, and artifacts, all unique and elaborate enough in appearance to suggest rare or even legendary quality. Her special eye spotted a bejeweled gauntlet, a magic lamp, a ship in a bottle, and a set of staves that covered every possible element. Not even the richest man in Midgar (which was probably Shinra, going by her mental database’s index of approximate net worth) could boast such an impressive collection. Most remarkably of all, the whole gallery appeared to be unprotected, with no visible guards, traps, or even locks. Everything seemed free for the taking.

Of course, to Sandalphon that practically guaranteed the involvement of some discreet but truly nefarious magical trap, no doubt meant to ruthlessly punish the greed of anyone foolish enough to steal from this incredible collection. Her scans could not pick up anything definitive, so this supposition was ultimately just a hypothesis, but it was one she did not care to put to the test. Could the Seekers benefit from the stupendous resources and pieces of equipment available here? Certainly, provided that everything worked as well as it looked and there were no illusions involved. But there was simply no telling what harm might befall anyone who meddled with these treasures. Sandalphon knew she didn’t have much time left, but she needed every last second she had.

With one last curious look at that radiant pink crystal high above her, Sandalphon turned back toward the doors to go. Maybe the Grand Archives had another exit she missed. “Come, little one,” she told the magic cat, only to glance around and not see her. “Little one?”

Suddenly worried, Sandalphon initiated a scan. Immediately she located the cat on the second story, atop a waist-high cabinet with a velvety red cloth. Unable to suppress her curiosity, she seemed to be batting at one of the floating will o’ wisps around a set of grim robes with horns and a beaked mask of bone. “Little one!”

Lucy jumped, landed on the armor set’s dark robe, and immediately let go with a yowl. As Sandalphon climbed the stairs up to the second floor, she watched Lucy swell to twice her size, becoming approximately as big as a Labrador Retriever. The cat let out a confused meow, but otherwise didn’t seem harmed. Still with stress marks in her pupil, Sandalphon glanced at the armor set. Was it enchanted with some kind of growth hex, activated by touch? It would be a fitting karmic punishment to become too large for the armor one tried to take, she supposed. She couldn’t assume that all the items in here bore the exact same enchantment, though, and if there was a karmic element to it, some punishments could conceivably be much worse. For instance, laying a hand on a sharp sword might cause internal bleeding. Very happy that she’d decided not to try her luck, the archangel patted Lucy on the head. “Come on, not-so-little one. We’re leaving.” The cat groaned, then reached up to snatch the plague doctor mask from the mannequin anyway. When she didn’t change again, she put it on, wearing it more like a necklace than a mask. Sandalphon shrugged and turned to go.

As the two descended to the door, Sandalphon noted that Lucy, despite having longer strides, actually seemed to be moving slower than before. “Hm.” She reached the door, then carefully pressed her weight against it. Just as before, it took almost all the meager strength she had, so it must not have been that heavy. When it swung open, though, it wasn’t the Grand Archives in front of her.

The Sinners’ Inn

♫

Instead she beheld an odd, almost dreamlike scene. It was a bar of some sort, with a floor of purple wooden planks and a pink stone, almost like marble, for its counter and tabletops. It featured stools, an oven, and a jukebox, while the balloons and birthday cake marked it as the site for a celebration. In fact, there were plenty of people here to celebrate. They looked like ghosts, with translucent blue forms, far less ghastly and threatening in appearance than the specters of the Grand Archives. Instead, these were animal spirits. Sandalphon identified a frog, a rabbit, a mouse, two cats, a coyote, and a large bird who seemed to be the bartender.

When the spirits noticed Sandalphon’s entrance, most greeted her in rapid succession, waving hello. The bird beckoned the archangel over to the bar, and after a moment she obligingly approached. “Welcome to Sinners’ Inn, our little corner of the afterlife,” the bird declared in a warm, almost motherly tone. “I’m Marla. What’s your name?”

Her verbiage startled Sandalphon slightly more than it probably should have. “I’m…not dead yet.”

“Not Dead Yet? What a strange name!” Marla tittered. “I kid, I kid. Well, living or dead, you’re more than welcome to spend a little time here. Can I get you anything to drink?”

It was a tempting offer. Sandalphon considered calling the others instead. However, the thought of what she’d been through in the Grand Archives gave her pause. If someone had called her in there, the disturbance might have resulted in a surprise attack from the Crystal Sage. If nobody else had reached out yet, things were probably fine.

“...I would like that very much.”

As Sandalphon gingerly sat down, the spirits drifted over to take the other seats, eager to get to know the newcomer better.

Graveyard Orbit

Once the prisoners were all escorted, or forcibly ejected, from the bowels of the transport shuttle, the guards -eager to leave this godforsaken dump and anyone in the system who might reasonably hold them accountable behind- briefly turned their attention to one last bit of trash weighing down their craft. In one corner near the ramp, some kind of machine sat folded up in transport mode, beneath a ratty old tarp that represented the bare minimum effort to keep the object ‘under wraps’. Opinions were divided on what to do with it.

“Ditch it. It’s just extra weight that’ll slow us down. Need to get all the distance we can out of our fuel.”

“Wait a sec, what is it, anyway?”

“Some old robot. Boss just told us someone wants it, so take it and drop it off at the station with the prisoners. Plans have changed, though.”

“Could be valuable. We should sell it. Get a li’l extra cash for our trip.”

“It doesn’t even have a head, no way that thing works.”

“Still probably got some precious metals inside the circuits or whatever. Could crack it up, pull out whatever parts we can.”

“Yeah, like a tracking device! Whoever wanted it might come after us. Better to get rid of it. Plus, it gives me the creeps.”

“Come on people, quit your bickering. We’re wasting daylight, so move it! Just dump the damn thing and get in here before we leave your asses here, too!”

At the command of their irate ringleader the three guards worked together to push the robot to the edge of the bay door and then kick it down the ramp, complaining about its weight all the while. A few seconds later and the door was shut tight. Rockets blazed and the shuttle shot up, up and away into the atmosphere, leaving the gang of misfit prisoners marooned.

While a few of the castaways began to band together and formulate a plan for survival, the discarded machine just lay there in a heap, its gangly limbs splayed out in every direction. From within the yawning, circular void of the android’s helpless neck, however, cool air issued forth, as well a strange noises, faint but distinctively organic like the throbbing beat of a heart.

INITIATING DIAGNOSTIC SUBROUTINE…
…
…
CORE BATTERY: HALF EMPTY
STATUS: FLAT BROKE
THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE
AI FUNCTIONALITY: YOU WISH
FORECAST: 0% CHANCE OF PERSPIRATION
MISSION STATEMENT: ACQUIRE HEAD, ?, ?, PROFIT

WARNING: LANGUAGE MODEL COMPILE ERROR, DEPENDENCY NOT FOUND
INITIATING PROXIMAL SCAN…CALIBRATING SUITABLE LANGUAGE MODEL…

After a few seconds, the robot began to move. Her limbs rearranged themselves to support her weight as she propped herself up against the dusty earth, then pushed herself to her feet. Carefully she removed the tarp, which had gotten wedged into one of her joints, then fastened it beneath her collar. The optic viewport in her collar was operational, although subtle enough that few people would be able to identify it without close study; to the prisoners discarded alongside her, the android looked unnervingly headless. Finally, she extended her arms to either side, all six fingers splayed out, as if stretching.

“Whoo-whee, it’s hotter than hell out here,” she declared in a rather loopy, off-kilter, synthetic Southern accent. Proudly she rapped her knuckles against her alloy chest. “Good thing I got my own air-conditionin’! Don’t any of y’all go reachin’ down into my donation box to cool off, though, not if ya want your hand back!” A puff of cold air from deep within her gullet approximated a sigh as she looked around at the desolate territory, her hands perched on her hips. “Course, if my power runs low I’ll be sweatin’ like a whore in church right quick, hehheh! Don’t s’pose any o’ y’all got a battery pack to spare? Or a head, for that matter? I sure need me one o’ them!”

For the first time, it occurred to the android to pay some attention to her fellow castaways. A few of them, some already acquainted, had already grouped together in the hopes of reaching a nearby town. Some dhasath…or were they humans? A mix of the two, maybe? To a robot, they all looked alike. She was much more interested in that space suit, which struck her as oddly but unidentifiably familiar, especially once she happened to catch a lucky peek of the skull and swirling gasses within the suit’s helmet.

“Molybdenum?” She repeated, a smile in her voice. “Wow, what a wacky word! Like, the element? Molybdenum. Pretty dang fun to say, but it ain’t exactly practical. What if I see a li’l scorpion or somethin’ fixin’ to jab yer heel? By the time I belt out the whole word, the varmint’s already done poisoned you! How about Moly? Or maybe just Denum? Though I guess those ain’t jeans you’re wearin,’ hehheh!”

For a moment paused, as though spacing out now that she’d gotten off topic. “Uh…what was that about sharp stuff? You afraid of gettin’ yerself punctured, balloon man? Big gassy guy? Well, don’t you worry none, I’d never pop a Moly no matter how funny it’d be! Heheh…” Though if there was any cash rattling around in that suit with those bones, that might be a different story.

When the robot actually managed to focus, she realized that the prisoners were introducing themselves. She didn’t actually internalize any of their boring human names, but it sounded fun, so she stepped forward to do so next. She seemed to carry herself without any self-awareness whatever about how badly she stuck out among all the rugged, fleshy, storied refugees of the starry frontier. “Howdy, y’all! I been called lots o’ stuff, like Thief, Stealer, Slag, Rustbucket, Sumbitch, and so on. But I like Bandit best. I was made for minin’, but these days the ‘mining’ I do is makin’ other folks’ stuff ‘mine’, hehhehheh!”

After quickly checking inside her storage compartment, though, Bandit’s face fell, metaphorically speaking at least. “Daww, consarn it all! Those rat bastards musta taken all my cash! I ain’t got so much as a doggone penny to my name…” Bandit groaned, her arms hanging so low they almost brushed the ground, but after another moment she straightened up. “Well, guess that settles it. I’m stickin’ with y’all for now. Wherever we’re headin’, they gotta have batteries there. And money. And heads!” Clearing her throat, she lowered her voice somewhat. “Still, uh, takin’ donations, by the way. Just sayin’.”

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

Esaka, the Tiered City

Setting: Drizzly Friday Morning
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (228/150) Level 11 Big Band (149/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1616 (+3 -12) / 1010

Being a diner without any particular architectural style, Churning Butter had a pretty ordinary, flat concrete roof with a waist-high rim, dotted by air conditioner units and other functional fixtures. It looked pretty poor as a result, especially compared to nearby establishments with a much more Asian style, but the level surface would make for a half-decent impromptu battleground. Even if the rainwater was starting to pool into puddles here and there. For now, the drizzly remained light and pleasant, but after that power shower the other night Nadia could see that changing in an instant. Well, she didn’t plan to be up here a minute longer than she needed to. Until Beowulf joined her, though, she might as well warm up with some stretches.

The feral leaned forward, touching her toes a few times. She then bent over backward, leaning farther and farther until her midriff faced the sky and she could plant her palms on the rough surface behind her. Shifting her weight, she transitioned into a handstand, straightened her legs, and stretched them upward. Nadia willed her limbs to stretch beyond their limits, gritting her teeth as her muscle fibers extended, pushing her segments higher and higher. “Hnnnnnnng…nng!” After a moment they snapped back, and she separated them for an upside-down split. Again she stretched out her legs, twisting them until she could set her boots on the floor again, despite still being in a handstand. Then she released, uncoiling into a standing position.

From there, she twisted to either side a couple times, then began to pressurize her limbs and use jets of blood to extend them as far as she could before they snapped back. Whether she threw a spearfinger, knee, or thrust kick, her fibers could extend about fifteen feet at most. Nadia had an idea and launched both arms like grappling hooks to grab onto the rim of the diner’s roof, then backpedaled to try and stretch out her segments further. It didn’t take long for that to get painful, and given her natural pain resistance, she decided it’d be better to quit while she was ahead. From there she rolled her neck, then detached her head and began to bat it around like a soccer ball, using her knees and feet to keep it in the air. Once Nadia realized she was basically just playing around now, though, she popped her head back on with a sigh and found a spot to sit down. Facing the spot where Beowulf would come up, she adopted what she thought was a badass, brooding pose, her head bowed beneath her hood to keep the drizzle off her face.

Seconds after she got comfortable, the wrestler finally appeared. “Yo, there you are!” Beowulf had pulled up his own wolf fur hood, but like Nadia’s it didn’t cast enough of a shadow to hide his toothy grin. He waved and sauntered over as the feral sprang up. “So, what’s this proposition Annie’s got for me, huh?”

Nadia put her hands on her hips with a teasing smile. “Well, some buddies of mine were eyin’ your Tekken results so far, and they’re purr-etty impressed.” She began to circle the wrestler, her tail raised high and waving behind her. “We’ve got our sights set on dethronin’ all Four Kings, and you might just be the next guy to take a crack at Mr. Mishima. So we were thinkin’ it’s about time to help make that happen.”

“Oho, so Miss Kitty was a secret talent scout all along, eh?” Beowulf crossed his burly, hairy arms, his face full of confidence. “Well, you got a good nose, ‘cause you sure stumbled on some crazy talent!” He narrowed his eyes knowingly, as if he had Fortune all figured out. “Thing is, though, the ‘Wulf doesn’t forget his roots. If you’re trying to poach me for another dojo, you’re gonna have to make me an offer I can’t refuse!”

The feral feigned surprise. “Poach you? Why, I never! In fact, I don’t even have another dojo!” Nadia held up empty hands as she shook her head. “Beo, buddy, you don’t have to give up on anyone or anything. Just think of us like a….uh, what’s the word. Sponsor! Yeah, we’ve got your back, that’s all! We can let you in on a couple juicy secrets, includin’ ways you can boost your fightin’ power even fur-ther.” She clasped her hands behind her back innocently. “All I need from you is a little…test. To purr-ove you got what it takes. Right here, right meow.”

“Oh yeah?” That prompted a big grin from Beowulf. “Alright, I smell what you’re cooking!” He cracked his knuckles, then his neck from side to side. “Whether it’s morning, noon, or night, the ‘Wulf is always ready to throw down!” He planted his foot and raised his hands, ready to fight.

Nadia, however, only raised her eyebrows. “Throw down? Wait, pawse!” She tapped a horizontal hand atop the fingers of a vertical straight hand in the universal gesture for time out. “I think you misunderstand. What I have in mind is the true test for any fighter, or athlete, for that matter. An evaluation of the one thing that can make anyone a hero…cardio!”

In an instant Beowulf’s jaw dropped, and his stubbly face began to grow pale. “Cuh…cardio!?”

“Uh huh!” Nadia grinned smugly. “You and me are gonna have ourselves a parkour race through the streets of Esaka! A headlong sprint ‘til one of us drops!” She dropped into a runner’s stance. “You ready?”

The wrestler swallowed. “Uh…well, cardio isn’t really my thing. Us wrestlers, we’re all about strength trainin’. Can’t run away in the ring, after all! Haha…” He chuckled nervously as he patted his belly. “Plus, uh, I just ate, y’know! You’re not s’posed to exercise for, like, a whole half hour after eating!”

“You were ready to brawl a second ago!” Nadia argued, her expression playfully derisive. “To me, you just sound scared. What’s the matter, not man enough for a little run?”

Groaning, Beowulf looked away with his eyes screwed shut, then sighed. “Argh…no, no, I can do it! Nothin’s impossible for the ‘Wulf!” He shook over his shoulders and came over to stand beside Nadia, clumsily mimicking her stance. “Alright! Get ready to eat my dust!”

After a quick countdown, the two launched forward. They threw themselves from the roof of the diner and hit the sidewalk running. Nadia chose a random direction to sprint in, and Beowulf charged after her. Luckily it hadn’t occurred to the big dolt to ask her about the race’s endpoint, since she hadn’t thought that far ahead, but Nadia expected it wouldn’t matter. Rather than run at full speed, she slowed herself down just enough to stay one step ahead of Beowulf, her calico tail always waving just a few feet in front of him to spur him onward.

Things went about as Nadia expected. Within ten seconds, Beowulf was breathing hard. After twenty, he was huffing and puffing, his determined bull rush replaced by an ungainly jog. Even with the cool drizzle on his face, he was quickly turning red, sweat beading on his brow. He hadn’t been lying about the wrestlers’ training regimen; cardio exercise was the bane of strongmen everywhere. It took a lot of effort to get all that meat moving, after all. At the forty-second mark, Beowulf’s jog devolved into a drunken stagger, with one hand on his aching stomach and the other reaching out at Nadia’s back as the darkness began to close in. “Fuh…fuh…Fortune-!”

“What’s the matter, cardi-oaf?” Nadia called back over her shoulder. “Can’t keep pup?”

“Guuuh!” Beowulf dropped to his knees, then fell face-down in front of a bench on the sidewalk, his eyes practically swirls.

Rolling her own eyes, Nadia turned around and jogged toward him. “That was fast.” She came to a stop over the wrestler’s fallen form, her nonplussed gaze on a young passer-by with wine-red hair, gawking at them from beneath his parasol as he walked nearby. “What? Does his sufferin’ a-mew-se you?” Once the kid silently moved on, Nadia crouched down and tapped her chest. A bright pink heart, especially radiant in the dull, rainy morning, popped out. “Here ya are, buddy. Somethin’ new to wrestle with: your own existence.”

The instant the heart touched him, Beowulf sprang to his feet so fast he accidentally headbutted Nadia on the way up, which bowled her over backward with a surprised yowl. “Whoa! I’m up! Second wind, ready for round two! Hell yeah!” He flexed, then looked down at the feral. “Oh, jeez, sorry Fortune. You okay?”

As Beowulf helped her up, Nadia massaged her nose ruefully. “Meowch, you got me good! I’ll be fine though. Nothing a little infinite regeneration can’t fix.” While recovering, she furrowed her brow and fixed a questioning gaze on Beowulf. Sure enough, his eyes were pitch-black, without a trace of sunset red…so why wasn’t he having an existential crisis? “What about you? Nothin’...goin’ on upstairs?” As she said it, Nadia began to have an epiphany.

“Uh, no?” Beowulf raised an eyebrow. “Should there be?”

Nadia shrugged. “Guess not, heehee!” She clapped a hand around his shoulder. “Well, congrats buddy, you passed with flyin’ colors. Welcome to the big leagues! Now buckle up, I’ll explain on the way to the Pools. We got a lotta ground to cover, and not much time.” The two got moving, discussing the Seekers’ mission in Esaka and what Beowulf could do to improve his chances while they got a move on toward their first matches of the day.

---

While the Koopa Kids weren’t directly involved with the Seekers’ tournament mission in Esaka, they had plenty of stories to share about what they’d gotten up to during the team’s previous outing. Band’s knowledge about the Underground was sparse, aware of precious little beyond the region’s subterranean nature, as its name implied. Bowser Jr and Rika’s account of the place they called Pizza Tower amused him greatly. It hadn’t been all fun and games, of course, but just the idea of a building wholeheartedly dedicated to pizza -all the way down to the enemies- just tickled his funnybone.

In contrast, Band had mostly found himself in various cities so far. Sandstone desert city, dystopian megacity, snowy magic city, tiered tournament city, medieval town…they encompassed different cultures, sure, but at the end of the day it had been a lot of streets, sidewalks, cars, buildings, and people. The strangest place he’d been so far had probably been Nyakuza Metro, that totally cat-themed metropolis stuffed inside a gigantic pumpkin. When would the one-man band actually go somewhere completely surreal?

When their tale shifted toward Ash Lake, Band raised an eyebrow slightly as he put his critical thinking skills to good use. “Now, I know I wasn’t there, but maybe…those weapons belonged to that Asgore guy you mentioned?” Primrose seemed to think the same, although her mention of ‘memorials’ lent extra weight to the weapons’ importance than mere possession. Regardless, P sounded like a real piece of work, as well. More interesting, of course, were the facts that the Flame Clocks seemed downright invincible, that certain symbols betrayed key cycle functionality, and that the Seekers’ first clues about this world’s true nature came from this Asgore. He definitely sounded like someone Band would want to meet, if not interrogate. No offense to these kids or their dad, but if a detective with actual information-gathering skills had been on the case back then, the Seekers might have left Ash Lake with a lot more intel than they did.

A city where it always rained sounded pretty abysmal to Big Band. Almost as bad as the Consuls’ ability to wantonly manipulate the gleaming masses. The cyborg was fully aware of just how precarious the team’s position in Esaka really was, and he wasn’t the least bit happy about it. The fact that anyone and everyone around them, from random civilians to precious friends like Ileum and Stanley, could be turned against them at the drop of a hat, meant the Seekers were in constant and extreme danger. They could not afford to get any Consul’s attention whatsoever, which made that accidental meeting with Consul B yesterday that much more of a disaster. Even if she did essentially tell Harry that people like him were beneath her notice, that could change the moment they made themselves any kind of threat.

After a little more thinking, and slapping Therion’s hand away from his plate, Band came to a decision. “The kid’s right. As long as Moebius rules Esaka, we could get royally screwed over any day now. It’s just too big a risk to ignore and hope for the best. Much as I hate to say it, we gotta put together some kind of plan.” He lowered his voice as he looked around furtively. “...To take that Consul out.”

This wasn’t the time or the place to assemble such a plan, however, not with many teammates missing and more tournament matches looming. Instead, Band ruminated on what Primrose had gleaned from the UN the night before. Better access to medical help would be valuable indeed in Esaka, and though Primrose described the process of ‘key-tuning’ chiefly through metaphor, that sounded like it could be useful too. Band nodded. “Happy to have any allies in this place, even if Moebius could turn ‘em against us, so I’m game. We just gotta be sure not to get too close.”

As if on cue, a bright blue magic circle appeared next to Primrose’s head. As she’d learned last night, this was a manifestation of the ‘phone magic’ that she learned from Kum Haehyun last night. For some of the Seekers here -namely Big Band and Roland- this was actually something they’d seen before thanks to one Goldlewis Dickinson, who’d made ample use of this everyday spell in both Midgar and Al Mamoon, the latter of which had been where the Secretary of Absolute Defense briefly crossed paths with Big Band. When Primrose took the call, it was none other than her newest mentor that greeted her.

“This is Haehyun,” said the deep, gravelly voice of Jonryoku. “We have a new mission for your cohort, should you choose to accept it. For some time now, an organization based in the Middle Tier, the Mugen Group, has been attempting to organize an alternative, more lighthearted sporting event to Esaka’s tournament series. The Power Stone Games. Prioritizing casual fun, they have not enjoyed much success, but the UN has decided to back them. Our main push for the Games starts this morning, and the Four Kings -suspicious of our involvement- will have people watching. Making it the perfect diversion. If you can field some people to participate, it will lend greater credence to the Power Stone Games and improve our diversion even further.”

Band eyed Primrose, Therion, and the Koopa Kids immediately. Their lack of involvement with the tournaments made them the ideal candidates, though Seekers with lighter schedules like Yayama might be able to get involved too. Unfortunately, his schedule was anything but light, and he was running out of time. Band carefully pushed his chairs back from the table and stood up. “I gotta get goin’ if I’m gonna make my first match. Good luck out there, y’all.”

With a tip of his hat, the detective was on his way. A quick visit to a bulletin board informed him that his first match of today would be against one Potemkin. Alright, let’s do this. He set his sights on the nearest lift and began his trip to the Pools.

---

Those who accepted the UN’s mission to participate in the Power Stone Games would eventually find their way to what looked like a theme park on the Middle Tier’s east side. The colorful complex included a plaza overlooking the Pools, a miniature desert, a jungle temple, and opposing submarines, among others. Some citizens had already begun to gather by the time the Seekers arrived, drawn by the prospect of something new and entertaining. For such a big-time affair, though, the Mugen Group only seemed to have a dozen participants lined up, even if they did hail from all walks of life. With a little time left before the games got started, the Seekers had a little time to walk around the Power Stone Park, meet the people involved, and maybe even learn what exactly they needed to do.

The Midnight Walk - Winterhold College

Setting: Labyrinthine Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (7/100) Level 7 Heismay (47/70)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1160 / 869

All things considered, this wasn’t exactly the most tense shootout Sandalphon had experienced. Between the plentiful cover on the Grand Archives’ second story and the travel time of the Crystal Stage’s magic arrows, relative safety wasn’t hard to come by. The real problem was actually making progress on her goal of getting out of here. She could only hide behind the bookshelves, overturned tables, and piles of ruined books if she could scramble across the open spaces that separated them, after all, and the Petrification Disease made any kind of rapid movement painfully difficult. Plus, there were still handfuls of wax-headed scholars here and there, whether roving around or huddled together. While her experiment earlier had confirmed that they’d ignore her at first thanks to her own dunk in the wax pool, they could still get in her way, and she didn’t want to push her luck.

Plus, the Crystal Sage had an infuriating tendency to teleport all around the third story of the Archives. Combine that with its huge hat and flowing garments that made it hard to get a bead on its actual body, and counter-sniping was a real challenge, even for a marksman of Sandalphon’s caliber. Plus, with such a height disadvantage she couldn’t use her other abilities like Frost Lock or Cerulean Mirage. She had no choice but to do this the old-fashioned way: lay down suppressive fire, stagger across the open area, and hunker down, over and over and over again as she endeavored to reach the next flight of stairs.

It was a grueling task, but simple enough that the archangel could press forward bit by bit, bearing the pain of ducking into cover in silence. Sometimes a crystal soul arrow would crash against the bookshelf mere inches from her body, and more than one the sudden emergence of ghostly, clawing hands from a cursed tome elicited a gasp of surprise. It felt like hours, but after a few minutes, Sandalphon finally neared the base of the staircase along the Grand Archives’ western wall. The climb would hurt, but once she reached the top, she and her nemesis would be on an even playing field at last.

Of course, the second she set foot on the bottom step was when the Crystal Sage showed its face. In a burst of billowing black cloth the sorcerer seemingly unfurled from the ground, its crystal ball aglow between shriveled, clawed hands. Sandalphon had only a split second to admire the sheer breadth of the Sage’s big hat as she took aim. The magic ray from her hexagun slammed into the Sage’s shoulder, a direct hit but not enough to put it down. Odds were that this undead sorcerer resisted magic, the archangel guessed. Then she turned around to hightail it back to her previous hiding place, only for purple crystals five feet in height to spring from the ground in front of her, fast and strong enough that one knocked her rifle from her nerveless grasp.

Sandalphon’s pupil flashed between symbols as she considered her options, her mind much faster than her body. As the purple light of a crystal arrow behind her reflected off the crystals in front, though, she finally got moving. She maneuvered around a freshly-grown spire, hiding behind it just in time as the soul arrow struck the crystal instead and shattered it like glass. Thinking quickly, Sandalphon extended her left hand toward her gun as she stepped toward her next shelter. Her ergo strings stretched through the air and wound around the weapon, but the impact of another soul arrow inches away from the archangel’s head ruined her focus and the ergo strings faded. Her one-eyed gaze flickered toward the Crystal Sage as it prepared to cast again. This was bad.

A blossom of flame struck the sorcerer from behind, igniting its hat and robes. Sandalphon’s eyebrow rose as her pupil became an exclamation mark–a surprise assist? Whatever it was, the Crystal Sage was having none of it. Rather than expose itself to attack from either party, it fled the pincer maneuver by teleporting away. A moment later, the culprit showed herself: the periwinkle cat from before, with just a blob of wax on her head. Somehow, it didn’t surprise Sandalphon that a feline could cast magic. Unless she could do a lot more than throw fireballs, however, she’d be in just as much danger from the Crystal Sage as Sandalphon herself. The archangel grabbed her rifle and hurried up the stairs as fast as her aching body could take her.

When she reached the top, she found that the cat had retreated somewhat, clearly wary of Sandalphon even if she didn't consider the ailing archangel an enemy. Nevertheless, Sandalphon attempted to communicate, hoping her tone would convey her good intentions even if her words fell short. “My thanks for your assistance,” she said, her voice soothing. “You’re a very good kitty. With evident skill in the arcane arts.”

Just when she seemed to be getting somewhere, though, the Crystal Sage made its move. Again it warped in, unfurling from the floor itself, and this time it wasn’t alone. A Crystal Sage appeared on either side of the Sandalphon, one blocking the exit door and another the stairs she’d just climbed. Was this an illusion of some kind, or were there really two of them? No time to make sure. As Lucy began to concentrate, the archangel summoned her strikers Annabella and Hammering. The hammer-wielding redhead charged at one for a mighty swing, while the black-haired sniper lobbed a canister at the other. Sandalphon took aim and fired to shoot the canister out of the sky, detonating it in one Crystal Sage’s face.

As it reeled, she turned to see the other get clobbered by Hammering, then hurled a Frost Lock to freeze the Sage solid. From there, a few shots plugged into its torso sent it sliding back until it tumbled down the stairs. It quickly racked up so much damage that when it thawed, it basically exploded.

Finally, the other Sage recovered just in time for Lucy’s fireblast to add insult to injury. Nevertheless, it raised its radiant blue crystal ball to fire a soul arrow, only for the death of the true Crystal Sorcerer to cause the illusion to fade into nothingness.

Once her scans convinced her the threat had been dealt with, Sandalphon put away her hexagun. When she knelt to collect the Crystal Sage’s spirit, Lucy rubbed up against her boot affectionately. “Good kitty,” the archangel repeated. Then she rose, her stiff and gritty joints afire, and made for the double doors. Freedom at last, at least from the Grand Archives. With a little help from Lucy, she pushed them open to reveal the Cursed Armory, positively glittering with the loot of a hundred worlds. She took one look around at the smorgasbord of enchanted equipment, pursed her lips, and stepped inside with Lucy at her heels.

---

Ace and Heismay’s long climb back to the top of the cistern wasn’t much fun, but at least the shadows seemed to have run out of horrors to throw the pair’s way for now. With the ritualistic altars at the bottom of the shanty town destroyed, and their twisted creator dealt with, the damp air in here felt a little less heavy and haunted. With the eugief’s natural agility and the hunter’s boundless energy (not to mention his slinger) they made relatively short work of what would have otherwise been an arduous and treacherous ascent, falling afoul of only a few rotten planks as they retraced their steps up the waterlogged towers.

Heismay only made two brief stops. First, he paused at the threshold of the house where he and Ace encountered that painted monstrosity. Although slimy and abhorrent as most of the wretches down here, Toxic Fred fit this place less and less the more Heismay thought about it. When he peeked inside, he found the colorful lumpy splotch they’d reduced Fred to exactly where they left it, without any signs of life or clues as to what it might have been. Yet, Heismay still felt as if he was missing something. A lingering unease perturbed him, as if the job wasn’t quite done. What exactly had slipped his mind…?

Something worse than nebulous doubts awaited the two once they crossed the broken bridge caused by their first run-in with the Forgotten. When Heismay checked in on Elowen’s hovel, an uneasy feeling in his gut borne of the inhuman noises he heard from within, he found a cursed wretch instead, moaning as she clawed at what must have been her head. A potent mix of red and purple power eked from her disfigured form. The Seekers had a brief window in which to act before the aberration noticed them, and though Heismay disdained assassin work, his skillset made him suitable for the task. He stalked forward, quiet as the grave, and put the sunken thing out of her misery with a single well-placed stroke.

Upon exiting the hut, he stowed his blade with a sigh. “Poor woman. I suppose the ‘blackness’ caught up with her? We would do well to guard ourselves against any traces of corruption.” He didn’t feel any different, personally, but malignant forces could be insidious. There was no telling how the pair’s brush with extreme occultism had scarred them. Heismay crushed Elowen’s spirit (which depicted the creature she had become) just to make sure, which rewarded him with an odd artifact that he carefully slipped into his bag. Maybe someone else would know what to make of it.

Item Obtained

Guts
A Mutator that can be affixed to a melee weapon to increase its critical chance. Refinement in the hands of a skilled craftsman can increase this bonus, and at ten levels of refinement, the Mutator also boosts critical damage according to the wielder’s own recoverable life

Once they reached the top, the Seekers approached a set of double doors. Heismay couldn’t remember if this had been the doorway he and Ace came through, or the one opposite, but in the end it didn’t really matter. The two gathered their strength and shoved open the doors together.

School of Mensis

As one might have expected, if not hoped, Winterhold College had plenty more horrors in store. Before the two lay a single long, gloomy room, shaped not unlike a massive coffin, with auditorium-style rows of seats arranged along the walls. In every chair slumped a naked, desiccated corpse with a tall, octagonal cage upon its head and a small stick in its hand, each tipped with a cluster of bristles on one side. A handful of oil lamps and candelabras provided just enough illumination for Heismay to see much more of the ghastly, fleshless faces than he wanted to. At the far end of the room, a solitary cadaver sat in a position of prominence, bearing scholarly robes and a much taller cage. This room was dry compared to the Forgotten Commune, at least, but its resemblance to a communal tomb left Heismay no more at ease than the curse-rotted shantytown.

This chamber did have one familiar element, though. A large hellhound lay curled up on the floor, its flame pleasantly warm in the drafty tomb. Its saddle featured one of the many weapons belonging to Edward Portsmith, although there was no sign of the Dreadnought himself. When the Seekers entered, the hellhound raised its head, its burning sockets searching for its master. “Oh,” Heismay remarked. “Were Portsmith’s beasts scattered throughout Winterhold, as well?”

The hellhound offered no response, so Heismay gave the room another look. At first glance it seemed like a dead end, but if the Commune was any indicator, who knew what secrets this place might be hiding?

Graveyard Orbit

TABS-EVA Wetware Unit "Bandit'

Character Description

Name: Bandit
Species: Android (TABS-EVA model)
Sex: Female
Age: 19
Reason for being on the ship: Burglary
Appearance: A headless robot, 5’10” in height, forged of gray-green metal. Her chassis has a notably feminine shape, most obvious around her narrow waist, wide hips, and upper legs (her lower legs are digitigrade). Both her legs and arms are too long proportionally, giving her an odd, gangly shape. Each hand has two fingers and a thumb, and her legs terminate in thrusters that can function as peg-legs. Instead of a head, she just has a large circular port as a neck, somewhat resembling a bomb collar. Inside is a dark void; cold air and squelching sounds come from within. In fact, most of Bandit’s interior has been completely overgrown by her blue tissue, and if enough damage is sustained to her robotic exoskeleton she can bleed cyan blood. She wears a long, tattered light brown cloak in the style of a stereotypical drifter, which can cover her body down to the knees but not disguise her headlessness. Bandit does have an optical sensor in the front of her ‘neck’ which can rotate as needed, but it’s not visually obvious. Her synthesized voice is obviously female, but very off-kilter and loopy-sounding.

Strengths and Weaknesses

Skills:

• Agility - Bandit is light on her feet and very fast. She can run up to 40 mph and jump two stories high. Her grip is strong enough to allow her to climb a variety of surfaces with minimal footholds. This alone allows her to circumvent all kinds of obstacles and defenses, and find creative hiding spots
• Utility - Designed as an extravehicular extraction machine for work in the vacuum of space or within the bowels of the Superorganism, Bandit comes equipped with all kinds of handy doodads, including a clamps, grappling hooks, energy saws, welders for emergency repairs, and so forth. Despite their unremarkable appearance, her forearms are essentially large space-age pocket knives. There are also the thrusters in her lower legs, not strong enough for in-atmosphere flight, but good for jumps and dodges. Of course, using her utilities requires extra energy. She can be quite creative with what she’s got, though
• Sustainability - Bandit was designed to run on the common battery packs used in blasters, which can be found practically everywhere there are people. These sustain her internal life support, self-repair, and weapons systems alike, so if there are plentiful packs she can operate without limits

Weaknesses:

• Weak - Bandit lacks physical strength and stopping power. She can’t lift, carry, or destroy much, and her frame isn’t too sturdy. She has no long-range options and is vulnerable to being shot
• Cowardly - The importance of Bandit’s mission demands that she prioritize her own continued existence at all costs. This has manifested as a strong aversion to combat (and dangerous situations in general) and an inclination to run and hide at the slightest sign of trouble
• Greedy - Bandit is disastrously covetous when it comes to money. After all, if she’s not great at violence and trying to take heads physically offers a lot more trouble than it’s worth, her best bet to finish her mission is to buy a head, and heads cost lots of money. She’s an unrepentant kleptomaniac and will happily steal anything that even looks valuable on the off chance she can sell it, if she thinks she can get away with it. Heists are her favorite thing

Background:

Backstory: Twenty years ago, Kiellar prospectors of the starry frontier struck gold in an unnamed asteroid field in barren, backwater space. Unlike the major discoveries of the wild west eons before, however, this wasn’t black gold, but blue. While sampling asteroids for telltale traces of precious metals, a space drilling crew stumbled upon far stranger within a shell of ancient stone: an alien creature, immense in size and bizarre in biology, adrift in a state of cryptobiotic hibernation. Evolved in space without any need for iron-rich hemoglobin to carry oxygen, the creature’s tissues were radiant blue. The drillers, perturbed by heightened anxiety and unnerving dreams in the days and weeks following their find, were only too happy to sell off the mining rights to their find for some quick cash, never imagining what their discovery was worth.

Deep Space Solutions, a rather unregulated Kiellar organization formed for the research and exploitation of obscure cosmic resources, established a facility on the asteroid and began extraction. Over the course of the next year, they extracted many tons of specialized tissues from the stellar beast that had come to be known as the Tiongedol Belt Superorganism, named after the Kiellar prospector who first found it. The mining teams ventured deep into the unpredictable biology of the creature itself, careful (at first) to never dig so greedily that they might disturb and awaken the Superorganism. Most of the harvested material, such as meat and bone, would be sold to a variety of cosmic buyers, but DSS had their own designs for the rare and exotic neural tissue painstakingly extracted from deep within the Superorganism. Establishing a partnership with Autonomica Unlimited, a robotics manufacturer, led to the Neural Tissue Automata project and the creation of several different models of ‘wetware’ androids with literal bleeding edge supercomputer technology that made use of the Superorganism’s live brain matter to function on the level of human beings. Of these, the Tiongedol Asteroid Belt Orbit Superorganism Extra-Vehicular Automaton model, or TABS-EVA, was designed to serve at the DSS facility to support ever faster and more efficient operations.

Unfortunately for the companies and people involved, it wasn’t long before the NTA project resulted in unintended consequences. The wetware androids were developing like living beings, very much to the alarm of the AI-wary Kiellar populace. As they developed their own personalities, these androids nursed a universal fascination with the Superorganism (despite most never laying optics on it). They tended to consider it their mother, and themselves its daughters, and over time their interest turned into an obsession. As their Kiellar masters took more drastic measures to suppress the androids, they became increasingly rebellious, and many of those not returned for disposal or scrapped became violent. The Wetware Scare permeated far enough through space to warrant intervention from Mazdhul authorities. Wetware was declared illegal, the androids were marked for extermination.

In a desperate attempt to survive the target put on their backs, DSS enacted their own purge. The heads of all androids were removed before their ejection into space, and the Superorganism facility was abandoned, the creature itself left to continue its solitary slumber in the cosmos for eternity.

Since then, the whole matter (poorly documented and very vulnerable to exaggeration in retelling) has faded from the public consciousness. Few wetware androids remained, but Bandit was one of them. She drifted in space for years before getting picked up by scavengers, and since then she’s been causing low-level trouble in the system nonstop. Without her head, she’s been oblivious to practically all of her past. She knows only her raison d'etre: find a head, and everything else will follow. At all times, she is subject to an inexplicable pull toward a point in space she cannot quite identify, and certainly not reach. Recently, she was captured in the midst of petty theft, and for the first time in years someone recognized Bandit as a Wetware android. Once word got out, a call quickly came in from an interested party that claimed they would decommission her properly. As such, arrangements were made to transport her alongside a number of prisoners to a designated rendezvous point, only for Bandit to end up dumped on a no-account planet: Caldera-3.

Graveyard Orbit

How's this?

COS-EVA Wetware Unit "Bandit'

Character Description

Name: Bandit
Species: Android (COS-EVA model)
Sex: Female
Age: 19
Reason for being on the ship: Burglary
Appearance: A headless robot, 5’10” in height, forged of gray-green metal. Her chassis has a notably feminine shape, most obvious around her narrow waist, wide hips, and upper legs (her lower legs are digitigrade). Both her legs and arms are too long proportionally, giving her an odd, gangly shape. Each hand has two fingers and a thumb, and her legs terminate in thrusters that can function as peg-legs. Instead of a head, she just has a large circular port as a neck, somewhat resembling a bomb collar. Inside is a dark void; cold air and squelching sounds come from within. In fact, most of Bandit’s interior has been completely overgrown by her blue tissue, and if enough damage is sustained to her robotic exoskeleton she can bleed cyan blood. She wears a long, tattered light brown cloak in the style of a stereotypical drifter, which can cover her body down to the knees but not disguise her headlessness. Bandit does have an optical sensor in the front of her ‘neck’ which can rotate as needed, but it’s not visually obvious. Her synthesized voice is obviously female, but very off-kilter and loopy-sounding.

Strengths and Weaknesses

Skills:

• Agility - Bandit is light on her feet and very fast. She can run up to 40 mph and jump two stories high. Her grip is strong enough to allow her to climb a variety of surfaces with minimal footholds. This alone allows her to circumvent all kinds of obstacles and defenses, and find creative hiding spots
• Utility - Designed as an extravehicular extraction machine for work in the vacuum of space or within the bowels of the Superorganism, Bandit comes equipped with all kinds of handy doodads, including a clamps, grappling hooks, energy saws, welders for emergency repairs, and so forth. Despite their unremarkable appearance, her forearms are essentially large space-age pocket knives. There are also the thrusters in her lower legs, not strong enough for in-atmosphere flight, but good for jumps and dodges. Of course, using her utilities requires extra energy. She can be quite creative with what she’s got, though
• Sustainability - Bandit was designed to run on the common battery packs used in blasters, which can be found practically everywhere there are people. These sustain her internal life support, self-repair, and weapons systems alike, so if there are plentiful packs she can operate without limits

Weaknesses:

• Weak - Bandit lacks physical strength and stopping power. She can’t lift, carry, or destroy much, and her frame isn’t too sturdy. She has no long-range options and is vulnerable to being shot
• Cowardly - The importance of Bandit’s mission demands that she prioritize her own continued existence at all costs. This has manifested as a strong aversion to combat (and dangerous situations in general) and an inclination to run and hide at the slightest sign of trouble
• Greedy - Bandit is disastrously covetous when it comes to money. After all, if she’s not great at violence and trying to take heads physically offers a lot more trouble than it’s worth, her best bet to finish her mission is to buy a head, and heads cost lots of money. She’s an unrepentant kleptomaniac and will happily steal anything that even looks valuable on the off chance she can sell it, if she thinks she can get away with it. Heists are her favorite thing

Background:

Backstory: Twenty years ago, Kiellar prospectors of the starry frontier struck gold in an unnamed asteroid field in barren, backwater space. Unlike the major discoveries of the wild west eons before, however, this wasn’t black gold, but blue. While sampling asteroids for telltale traces of precious metals, a space drilling crew stumbled upon far stranger within a shell of ancient stone: an alien creature, immense in size and bizarre in biology, adrift in a state of cryptobiotic hibernation. Evolved in space without any need for iron-rich hemoglobin to carry oxygen, the creature’s tissues were radiant blue. The drillers, perturbed by heightened anxiety and unnerving dreams in the days and weeks following their find, were only too happy to sell off the mining rights to their find for some quick cash, never imagining what their discovery was worth.

Deep Space Solutions, a rather unregulated Kiellar organization formed for the research and exploitation of obscure cosmic resources, established a facility on the asteroid and began extraction. Over the course of the next year, they extracted many tons of specialized tissues from the stellar beast that had come to be known as the Tiongedol Belt Superorganism, named after the Kiellar prospector who first found it. The mining teams ventured deep into the unpredictable biology of the creature itself, careful (at first) to never dig so greedily that they might disturb and awaken the Superorganism. Most of the harvested material, such as meat and bone, would be sold to a variety of cosmic buyers, but DSS had their own designs for the rare and exotic neural tissue painstakingly extracted from deep within the Superorganism. Establishing a partnership with Autonomica Unlimited, a robotics manufacturer, led to the Neural Tissue Automata project and the creation of several different models of ‘wetware’ androids with literal bleeding edge supercomputer technology that made use of the Superorganism’s live brain matter to function on the level of human beings. Of these, the Calderan Orbit Superorganism Extra-Vehicular Automaton model, or COS-EVA, was designed to serve at the DSS facility to support ever faster and more efficient operations.

Unfortunately for the companies and people involved, it wasn’t long before the NTA project resulted in unintended consequences. The wetware androids were developing like living beings, very much to the alarm of the AI-wary Kiellar populace. As they developed their own personalities, these androids nursed a universal fascination with the Superorganism (despite most never laying optics on it). They tended to consider it their mother, and themselves its daughters, and over time their interest turned into an obsession. As their Kiellar masters took more drastic measures to suppress the androids, they became increasingly rebellious, and many of those not returned for disposal or scrapped became violent. The Wetware Scare permeated far enough through space to warrant intervention from Mazdhul authorities. Wetware was declared illegal, the androids were marked for extermination.

In a desperate attempt to survive the target put on their backs, DSS enacted their own purge. The heads of all androids were removed before their ejection into space, and the Superorganism facility was abandoned, the creature itself left to continue its solitary slumber in the cosmos for eternity.

Since then, the whole matter (poorly documented and very vulnerable to exaggeration in retelling) has faded from the public consciousness. Few wetware androids remained, but Bandit was one of them. She drifted in space for years before getting picked up by scavengers, and since then she’s been causing low-level trouble in the system nonstop. Without her head, she’s been oblivious to practically all of her past. She knows only her raison d'etre: find a head, and everything else will follow. At all times, she is subject to an inexplicable pull toward a point in space she cannot quite identify, and certainly not reach. Recently, she was captured in the midst of petty theft, and for the first time in years someone recognized Bandit as a Wetware android. Once word got out, a call quickly came in from an interested party that claimed they would decommission her properly. As such, arrangements were made to transport her alongside a number of prisoners to a designated rendezvous point, only for Bandit to end up dumped on a no-account planet: Caldera-3.