Blake Belladonna - Blake's quarters, UMMA Vessel Tanngrisnir

Blake's door slid open with a hiss, and she stepped into her personal quarters with a relieved sigh. She'd been on duty ever since the attack, reassuring passengers and helping sweep the ship. Thankfully, her library book had been sitting right where she left it when she finally went to retrieve it.

The book went onto the top of a neat pile of volumes. The young agent was too distracted to read, however, dropping down onto her bed with a frown. The encounter with the two girls and their mysterious mission replayed in her mind, until she shook her head and forced herself to think about something else. There wasn't much point obsessing over it, the pair were long gone...

Pulling her bow free and wiggling her ears in some relief, the faunus pulled Gambol Shroud off of her back and set about checking it over, killing time until the ship made landing.

Subaru Nakajima - Yggdrasil thoroughfare

After finishing her business at the doctor's office, Subaru had headed off. There was an excited bounce in her step as she looked around, taking in the sights - Yggdrasil was so huge, she doubted she'd ever be able to explore every part of it, but what she'd seen so far had been amazing! With time to spare before she'd have to report for duty, she decided to just wander for now, trusting Mach Caliber's link to the tree's systems would keep her from getting lost.

Saber watched as Gintoki left for the closer elevator for a moment, before turning to face Nono. She looked from the boxes to her hands, and to Nono, before simply nodding. Yes, soon they would meet up again, once she dropped her food off at her room. She swiftly returned the farewell, inclining her head to the side slightly as she said "I will see you soon."

With that, she began to head towards another lift, this one more distant, but closer to the temporary residences of the UMMA's agents. The agents were hardly expected to stay in Yggdrasil year-round. The rooms provided were small and simple, but certainly sufficient for most agents to stay for a few days. After all, they usually had somewhere else they lived. In Saber's case, this was with Rin back on her universe's Earth. As she reached the elevator, the blonde girl fumbled with the boxes for a moment before entering the number combination for the floor she desired and waited.

Soon enough, the elevator arrived.

It arrived, too, for Gintoki and Nono. Neither could be blamed for forgetting that Yggdrasil was equipped with teleporters, most full-time residents did. The elevator came from below.



There was suddenly a loud, crackling sound. Almost immediately the crowds parted, with several gasps and screams. For something had gone wrong.

In a smoking crater, there lay a pale girl, with short, silver hair. She was small, and short, clad in a skintight bodysuit. Her eyes were shut, but she was breathing, albeit heavily. Her doll-like prosthetic arm was heavily damaged, severed at the elbow. Her real arm clutched a crackling, damaged UMMA teleportation device.

It was clear, then, that this was the result of an attempt to teleport with a damaged device. Had the girl not realized it?



"It'd be kind of stupid to just jump into something like that, yeah," Marisa said with a shrug. As much as she felt Kakine was being a spoilsport, this was a matter she agreed on. You didn't go testing new things on yourself! Well, okay, maybe you did if you knew it wouldn't do anything bad, but this? Who knows what it'd do if you just hopped in and tried it out! What if your clothes exploded when you grew or something like that? That would just be embarrassing.

As Misaka moved on, Marisa followed, marveling at her surroundings. It really was like one of those mecha manga or whatever they were! So, did the name 'battle frontier' talk about how this place was meant to prepare for battle, rather then be a location where people fought each other? While that was a little disappointing, somewhere like this was still really cool to get a nice look at. If she had a way to haul some of this stuff out...

"This 'power armor' stuff looks pretty badass, you know..." Marisa said, curiously trying to close the distance between herself and one of the suitcases.



There girl, now sitting on the newcomer's lap, seemed rather dazed by the impact. She sat up, swaying weakly for a few moments, before she shook her head and tried to get her bearings, glancing over at the now-collapsed and smoking armored samurai man. "Who... wh-who was... I..."

She seemed more confused then anything. And shaken, to say the least. But she was safe and unharmed.

The samurai disappeared in a flash, it seemed he had been contacted to retreat. A message rang out in Kiba's communicator as well.

"Don't be foolish. Retreat. You're outnumbered, and I would prefer if you didn't throw your life away," the voice of Shadow Eternity's leader said. Her tone spoke of frustration, she had desired to gain the girl. However, it was not wise to simply let your troops die, if it could be helped.

Just as she finished speaking, Black Rock Shooter raised Rock Cannon like a massive bludgeon behind the armored man. It had a longer range than her katana, even if it was not as deadly, and any of her projectile attacks ran a risk of hitting the newcomer or the girl, or both, as well as the ease that her opponent had deflected her last attack. Not all of Rock Cannon's shots were so easily deflected, but there was a risk.

So instead, she swung the cannon down like a club.



Dlanor glanced out the window. Her internalized irritation at the loss of one of the piece of cargo was pushed to the side for a moment as the vessel began to land. She could see the world swelling beneath them, the city... The museum that piece of cargo was destined for was not distant from this location. Below, the UMMA base sprawled. It had to be large, to allow such ships to land as well as store all the agents, teams, and equipment required for the planet's protection.

It was not long before the ship touched down, rolling out pathways from its hull to the ground so that those on board could leave. Dlanor rose to her feet, packing her belongings before quietly walking out to depart.

Meanwhile...

There was a bustle in the museum. Crowds wandering about, to observe the various items that adorned the walls. Posters, too, advertised various exhibits...

One in particular stood out.

'The Mysterious Throne', it stated, was an unusual artifact exhibiting a far higher technology level then it should have for the time period it dated from on the world it had been discovered on. As of now, it was impossible to determine what purpose it had existed for, beyond clearly linking with something. It was in the western side of the museum, exhibited alongside other unusual findings as the centerpiece for a gallery based around such ancient mysteries.

Guts raised an eyebrow as the woman raised the odd device. It looked nothing like the one those other soldiers had given him before. Even if it had malfunctioned, he doubted the magical devices varied much. Moreover, Guts still didn't trust anyone who could fling spells like that. The only people who could do so were apostles, or wizards with power beyond even Schierke or her teacher. This was no woman he could just hitchhike with.

"Tell you what. Stop lying to me, tell me where I am, and I'll let you live." Guts pointed his massive sword at the woman. "I've had a long day, and I'm not in the mood for bullshit."

Jack Morgan scratched his chin thoughtfully. It was true that Shadow Eternity rarely managed their troops well. It was true that The Leader didn't explain anything about her ideology and only wanted weapons of war. It was true that all the high-ranking individuals in Shadow Eternity were mentally-ill lunatics. But to abandon his employer just for Takahara? He'd have to think about this...

"Sounds like you got yourself a plan, Mister Takahara. Sign me and the boys up, I'll call 'em in!"

Jack Morgan used a small wristpad located on, yes indeed, his wrist to send a priority message to all members of the platoon.

Attention all employees. Come to the Party Palace's parking lot. We have something to discuss.

Jack Morgan finished explaining Takahara's reasoning for quitting Shadow Eternity and creating Shocker+, with some embellishments about who gave him the idea. "And that's the gist of it. We are no longer in Shadow Eternity. New boss, new equipment, better benefits, and better employee support. Any questions?"

Sindibad was the first to speak up. "Uh, yeah. How are we going to get new equipment if most of the Shocker+ guys have just the clothes on their back?"

Jack Morgan cleared his throat, trying to buy some time to think. "W-well, why not ask him? I'm sure you've got some good ideas, right?"

Sindibad smiled. He always enjoyed being given some free will in a situation. "I just might. Be back in a minute, sir."

Sindibad was through the door to the pizzeria before anyone had another question. He always tended to move fast when given a chance to go behind someone's back. He headed up to Takahara, and tried to gain his attention. Still giddy from being given a chance to do what he wanted, he explained everything he wanted to talk about before Takahara had even turned around.

"Excuse me Mister Takahara but I've got a plan see I've got a list of science places and how to contact them and I was thinking we could steal or buy weapons and stuff from them also we should sabotage a Shadow Eternity mission to let them know we're here so what do you think?"

Sindibad gasped for breath, hoping that Takahara had understood everything. If not, he was fully prepared to repeat himself.

As Kiba failed to catch the girl, he landed on the ground partially knelt down. He stands up and sees the objective in the hands of yet another young girl. He considers taking it back from her by force, but his partner seems to be somewhat incapacitated and they are rather outnumbered for a moment. As if to agree with his thoughts, his boss called in to summarize the situation.

Black Rock Shooter - Client World 576143290-B

"Don't be foolish. Retreat. You're outnumbered, and I would prefer if you didn't throw your life away," the voice of Shadow Eternity's leader said. Her tone spoke of frustration, she had desired to gain the girl. However, it was not wise to simply let your troops die, if it could be helped.

Well, at least I got some entertainment out of this.

Before he could begin to retreat, Kiba felt something strike him hard at his back and was staggered forward. He turns to see it was the black-haired girl again. Snarling in fury, his right hand clenches into fist, glowing a dark red color once again. However, he suppresses the urge to blast her and instead aims at the ground, then fires. He takes the chance to retreat as the resulting smoke obscures his movements.

Subaru's head snapped around at the strange sound, and by the time the first screams reached her ears she was already running, thankful the crowd had already swept back from the source of the disturbance.

"UMMA Agent! I'd like everyone to stand back, please!" Subaru said, her voice calm but firm, holding Mach Caliber up in one hand as the device displayed a hologram of her new UMMA badge. She quickly approached the girl and looked over the situation with an experienced eye.

She didn't like the way that device - a teleporter, maybe? - was crackling. Damaged equipment like that could be dangerous, so the first thing she did was throw up her own defensive field magic. It wasn't as good as her barrier jacket, but it'd do for now. Next, after weighing up her options, she gingerly pushed the device to one side with her shoe. Only then did she drop to her knees beside the girl, checking her over.

"Phew, she's still breathing... Mach Caliber, can you call dispatch and get us a medical team and a tech crew?"

"Alright, buddy."

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?"


With her gear already packed, Blake had already departed her room by the time the ship touched down. With her ears once again hidden beneath her ribbon, she hefted her bag over her shoulder and strode down one of the gangways, looking out over the base and the city beyond.

"I... don't know," the teenaged girl answered, helping the small girl to her feat before standing up herself, "Can anyone explain what that was about?"

She seemed rather annoyed, if the faint arcs of electricity were anything to go by, but that could just be the result of having been rather enthusiastic with her abilities during the fight. The girl, whose shoulder she was still keeping a hold of, didn't seem to be in any danger from it. After fighting the people obviously out to harm the girl--they certainly weren't being careful with her--Mikoto wasn't perfectly willing to trust her temporary allies... even if one of them was also a small girl in a cute hat...

Gintoki shrugged his shoulders at Nono's comment. The visit to the restaurant was... Interesting, if anything else, but it didn't seem like much more than that. That being said, though, it wasn't as if the fight was much better. Given half the chance, he'd be content just lazing around instead, but as that clearly wouldn't be the case anytime soon he let out a small sigh.

"In a way, yeah. Though I have a sinking feeling about where we're headed..." he said dejectedly as he watched the elevator rise to their level. "She probably won't take long- Saber, I mean. Might as well go wait around higher up."

After the elevator doors opened up, Gintoki stepped inside and pressed the button for the necessary floor before leaning back against the car and waiting for his... Partner to enter.


Suwako watched silently as Black Rock Shooter chased away the remaining would-be kidnapper before breathing a sigh of relief and flopping down on the sand nearby.

"Sorry, sorry. But geeeez, that was annoying." she complained, staring up at the sky above before sitting upwards. "But at least I don't have to be super-serious anymore. Eh-heh~. Anyways, my name's Suwako- I'm a native god from Japan- or, well, was. That over there's Black Rock Shooter..." she began to explain, the tension rapidly dissipating from the atmosphere. Everything from her landing on Shooter's head to the weird giant things to the girl in the coffin... It took a few minutes, but by the end of it all Suwako was out of breath and gasping for air. She wasn't used to being a motormouth, and her throat was getting dry from the desert air. Lying back down on the ground, Suwako slapped the desert sand next to her with her hands, generating a small oasis to provide her with some shad e and water. Rolling over onto her stomach, Suwako cupped some of the water in her hand and drank a sip. Cool, refreshing water. Now THIS was how you made the most of it, not on top of some freezing cold mountain or something like that. A cool drink on a hot day was nothing less than a masterpiece.


Kakine blinked a few times at the mention of power armor in the facility. Though the concept was nowhere near foreign- Academy City had long since been developing and refining them for military purposes- the likelihood that these suits were using something that the city itself hadn't thought of wasn't too far off. Not wanting to have to intercept Marisa once again, though, Kakine created a small Dark Matter beetle, which he then commanded to lightly perch on top of the witch's hat. It would be too conspicuous to be actively holding her back, so this was probably the next best option. If worst came to worst, he could always send the beetle over to repair any mechanisms that the witch broke in the process of stealing... Though, to be fair, he would much prefer if he didn't have to take that route at all. Closing his eyes for a moment, Kakine rapidly scanned through the vision of all the beetles patrolling the area outside. Nobody seemed to be investigating, at least...

"That possibility does exist, for sure. However, I believe the city would be more interested in more efficiency than the standardized models that seem to be. Any sign of that sort of mechanism here?"

"That... huh. That's a lot of frequencies."

Takahara adjusted his reading glasses, going over them.

"Speaking of, I figure the best way to locate a Shadow Eternity mission in progress is to look for the outbound comms frequency of a known operative outside their usual dimension. Eternal's a USB stick, so I'm not sure how to track him. Giorno's a pissant guido, so there's no way they'd trust him with anything. I say start looking with Cinder Fall. She's one of those simpletons who couldn't plot their way out of a wet paper bag. I don't care what her objective is. Just make a lot of noise, make it look like she's responsible."

Thinking for a moment, he handed Sindibad a list.

"In fact, you know what? We're doing this. False flags all around, because I've got some stops that're more morally reprehensible than the ones I've made so far."
===

Standing in the shadow of a Zaku, Takahara set up a whiteboard for the assembled mooks. He had a number of pictures set up.

"Okay, boys, Sindibad had a great idea. We're pulling some false flag operations to make the UMMA think that Shadow Eternity is more active and competent than they really are. I've got three lined up."

Takahara pointed to a corporate logo with a laser pointer.

"For one, we're going to have to visit one of my exes. Kiryuin Ragyo. Listen for the loud German chanting. She does fashion, and I think that a business endeavor like ours is going to need some nice suits. She's also got some of the best tailors in the multiverse. Just... don't talk to the blonde one."

Takahara's next point of interest was a floorplan.

"Next, a request from a guy I went to college with. Some of the Zeon soldiers have told me that Zakus might not cut it for future operations. That's why we'll be liberating a few designs from the Photonic Energy labs."

Takahara then pointed at photos from within a police department.

"Finally, Mr. Thunderbolt needs you to clean out the Gotham evidence locker. I know, I know. Nobody likes Gotham. But those nutjobs don't seem to know how to use tech like that properly, so we should take it off their hands. Given that Gotham is the worst city in that universe, there is a 50/50 chance you'll be able to bribe your way in."

Takahara returned the laser pointer to his pocket. "The purpose of these operations is simple. To cause as much collateral damage as possible, while making it look like Shadow Eternity is responsible. Any volunteers?"

Takahara's speech covered all the bases they needed to, but there was something it was missing. Sindibad spoke up, a sinister baritone lacing his voice.

"Takahara's right, but if we just do shit under Shadow Eternity's name, all they're going to do is give us a raise. What we need to do is separate ourselves from Shadow Eternity and then start the false flag operations, to draw heat away from us and tender our resignation."

"To do that, we're gonna have to sabotage a few of their own missions. Does anyone know the dimensional signature of a Cinder Fall?" The assorted mooks were silent. "Damn. How are we going to track her?"

A Thuggish-looking lizardperson held his three-fingered hand up, and grinned toothily. "Why don't ya track all outgoin' warp signs from HQ? Them dumb bastards sure as hell go into the HQ, but they ain't goin' out 'less it's a big mission! It's like catchin' a trap inna rat!"

Sindibad smiled. To think that a Thug could think so clearly was phenomenal! "That's a good idea," Sindibad said, "So we'll just catch a buncha outgoing signals, and track them all and see exactly where they're going! All we have to do is send a squad of soldiers out to every one of those signals' final destination, and wreck up the place! It's foolproof! Alright, I'm gonna need a few assistants in this mission. Who's with me?"

An unnerving snakelike cyborg screamed triumphantly, evidently voicing that it wanted to join Sindibad on his mission.

A reptillian humanoid wearing a crude rendition of an astronaut's flightsuit thumped his chest proudly. "A chance to prove who the superior soldier is always appreciated!"

A pale-faced humanoid wearing a hideous suit lined with tubes spoke up. "Any advantage we can gain from crushing those who thought they owned us is welcome. Count me in!"

Sindibad grinned at the carnival of hideous aliens willing to help him. Their intimidating features would certainly help in spreading terror and destruction. "Right, then! We'd better get started!"


What was once occupied by primitive monitors and buttons had long ago been replaced with a gorgeous computer bank, lined with sensors and trackers of all sorts. Sindibad hunched over the shoulder of a diminutive brown-cloaked humanoid so well-shaded only its glowing eyes shone through, who was feverishly working at the computer bank's keyboard.

"C'mon, little guy!" Sindibad said, his voice filled with urgency. "Have you got a list of signals yet? It shouldn't be that hard!"

The cloaked humanoid responded with an irritated 'Utinni!', somehow communicating that such things take time to decrypt and track. At last, it pointed to a readout feeding from an astonishingly archaic punch-card computer in the corner of the room. On the readout was a long list of coordinates. They each marked the path taken by an automatic world-hopping algorithm, designed to make its user hard to manually track. So long as you had a half-decent idea of how the user's signal worked, it only delayed the inevitable. Sindibad stared at the immense list of universes, worlds, continents, countries, states, cities, blocks, and streets visited, and opted to take the most straightforward route and decided to start from the bottom of the list and move upwards. "Thanks!" Sindibad said, rushing out of the room. "Hoi, everyone! We got our first mission! Let's get going, you three!"

Nono, Elevator, Yggdrasil

"Right," Nono agreed with a nod as Gintoki suggested waiting further up in the structure. She hardly needed to be told, since she had Saber's speed recorded down to the millisecond. It was unlikely that Saber would move that fast while she was holding food, but once she had dropped it off she could. Assuming she didn't just teleport anyway.

When the elevator arrived, she happily stepped inside, spinning about on her heels to face forwards as the doors slid closed and the elevator seamlessly shifted into motion.

She was quiet for a few moments, before speaking up. "Hey, Gintoki, I've been wondering if I should learn to use a sword, so I can be more useful in situations like that fight we just had. What do you think?" She hardly needed to harp more on her close combat abilities, or lack thereof.

---

Misaka 10,032, Client World Macross

Misaka walked over with Marisa, ignoring the Dark Matter beetle. They wouldn't have long, so better to not spend the time arguing. Certainly she was interested in what they might have here that they could determine at a glance. So better to figure it out now rather than later.

The suitcase itself was fairly large, with parts and pieces folded together for maximum miniaturization. But once it was there though, it would be easy to put together. If someone like a pilot had to use it in a hurry, it would have to be. So, the locks were opened and Misaka was able to help Marisa don it, while she analyzed the components.

The suit was certainly interesting. Powered limbs, wheels on the feet, an engine for thrust and wings for flight, a visor for protection of the head which happened to include a tactical display. There was definitely some interesting stuff here.

'"Analysis indicates that this model is capable of flight up to 500 kilometers per hour,' Misaka notes as she eagerly examines the 'EX-Gear'," Misaka said as she looked Marisa over. Hopefully the Witch wouldn't do anything crazy now that she was in it. Of course, it appeared that the suit would only assist her motion when powered up, and otherwise it was really heavy, though hardly impossible to move in. That would most likely limit any escapades on her part. For now, they just had to hope that no one noticed the trio testing out one of their suits.

---

Cinder Fall, Client World [???]

It was a slight problem, Cinder supposed, but she didn't really fit into the crowds in this place. It was her look, she supposed. At the same time though, she found herself looking on them with veiled disgust. There these people were, innocent, going about their lives. They didn't know the truth, had not had the curtain lifted to see the truth behind the world. They were all lambs for the harvest, and they were completely unaware of it. Disgusting.

As she walked, she prepared. Red Dust was scattered in small amounts as she walked about, not enough to really be noticed. It would be useful for later. The vial would be empty by the time she arrived at the Throne that was on display.

She stood across from it, taking a moment to examine it and try to figure out what it was, though there was nothing coming. It was connected to something, that much was obvious, but what exactly it was was a mystery. She'd go with the assumption that the Leader wanted someone to sit in it, perhaps the girl in the tube. It was the reasonable conclusion.

Well, time to get to work then. She stepped away, walking back towards the middle of the museum itself. She had no desire to hide from security cameras, when it was better for them to see the truth with their own eyes. In fact, she came to a stop and looked at one, smirking before she snapped her fingers

At the same moment, the Dust she had dropped would combust and burst into flames, lighting fires across the Museum at the same moment. She'd wait for the screaming and panic to begin, perhaps even the fire alarms, before heading back towards the Throne itself, as if this detour had been anything but a deception.

She didn't care about the alarms, and there was no one here to stop her as she arrived once more in front of the Throne, where she began to prepare for transporting the Throne. Time for a heist.

Jericus "Ing" Ignace Client World 576143290-B

The guardsman had spent the last few minutes administering first aid to him self. Managing to bandaging up his wounds and removed some of the metal fragment that were longed in his leg. Retrieving his lasgun he walked over to the oasis using his lasgun as a crutch to help him walk. "Jericus Ignace of the 233rd voltage regiment of the imperial guard," he said hobbling into the oasis. Sitting down in the shade Ignace reached into his bag he pulled out some CRP rations from his pack "I got some ration if anyone is hungry," he said munching on a ration bar as he inspected his prosthetic leg.

As the elevator doors opened, Sylvester was standing, leaning his back against the wall. He waved to Nonon and Gintoki. He simply waited in the elevator, wondering what to do after his leave of absence.



Sylvester wasn't the only one thinking that. Eternal had came back to working with Shadow Eternity after dealing with a strange being. A 'Roidmude', they called it. Eternal had only heard of these beings, and having one as a close servant would be fruitful to him.

However, the Roidmude didn't like it. She resented the Kamen Rider. She resented all Kamen Riders for what they did. They made her weak. They ostracized her from her friends. Now they have abducted her. She had debated murdering Eternal right then and there, but she realized that if she succumbed to anger too soon, she might wind up dying. So she bided her time.

Arragoz Plizgin - Da Krooza

Having given the humies plenty of time to react, the Ork figured now was the time to make his exit. It was worth noting that 'plenty of time' consisted of a grand total of two seconds, as the engines had already roared to life, and were just short of launching the vessel out into open space. However, it was hardly Arragoz' fault if the humies were too zoggin' slow, and, in the end, they were still puny humies. Not 'alf bad fer humies, but Orks wuz still betta.

On that note, with an ear-shattering boom, the Krooza left the Federation ship's hangar and, by extension, its artificial atmosphere. As a result, the cacophony of the engines, in addition to the laughter of the Greenskin, went unheard by most. However, that was unimportant. Far more deserving of attention was the Ork's steering, or lack thereof, of the Krooza. Any onlookers would be treated to the sight of the vessel erratically moving about in a rather nonsensical manner, while still managing to further the distance between it and the fleet.

As for the Kommando 'controlling' the runaway space ship, he was presently mucking about with the myriad array of buttons before him, attempting to locate the one that would let him 'get da zog outta 'ere.' After activating the cup-holders, mood lighting, and far too many other features that had no business being on a spacefaring vessel, Arragoz finally found what he was looking for. Upon pressing the button, a droning mechanical voice addressed him.

"Initiating Interdimensional Jump procedures, please state your desired destination."

"Wher'eva da Boss iz at."

"'Wher'eva da Boss iz at' is not a valid destination, please try again."

"Da Bunka, ya git."

"Please try again."

"Zog, 'ow about 'Shadoo Foreva's 'Ome Base?'"

"Confirm your desired destination: Shadow Eternity Headquarters."

"Jus' get on wiff it, ya stoopid masheen."

"Destination confirmed. Estimated Travel Time: 10 milliseconds."

A'fore the Kommando could even say 'Dat's proppa fast,' the jaunt was already at an end, depositing the Krooza and its passenger(s?) within the atmosphere of a barren world. Said barren world happened to contain the bunker that Shadow Eternity called home, and was about to receive another distinguishing landmark. Said landmark was the crater that would soon be created by the vessel crashing into its surface, conveniently at a safe distance from the bunker itself. Thus, the Orkoid made an equal parts spectacular and destructive return, which was doubtless the way Arragoz liked it.

The food was safely away in Saber’s refrigerator. Saber was careful, arranging the boxes so that they were safely stored away. Naturally, she wanted no harm to come to any of the food whatsoever. Her room was fairly normal, modest, but she had requested a large refrigerator for storage. It would only be excellent for storing food she intended to return home with… her intentions completed, Saber quickly left her room and hurried out of her room. The elevator on this level was not too distant, and as a Servant her speed was augmented, though her situation was different from that of many other heroic spirits.

Still, soon enough, Saber reached her destination and pressed a button to call the lift. As she left more quickly than those she had been with, he was in fact calling the lift that they were in. Soon enough they would find it opening to reveal a familiar face.



This was awesome this was awesome this was awesome!

Wow, she didn’t even have to try and steal it! Misaka had just helped her right into this… powersuit thing! She had to take her hat off, yeah, that was kind of a pain, but still, this was pretty kickass! No substitute for magic but that didn’t really make it less awesome. At least until she tried to move. Then she found it, well, just about impossible no matter what she did. After a few moments of straining, the Perfectly Ordinary Witch went rather limp in the armor.

“Oi, what’s with this? I can barely move, what’s the point of this thing if it’s so heavy?” she complained, gold eyes narrowing in irritation. “Seriously, that’s pretty pointless…”



Her opponent, and the other attacker, had fled. Black Rock Shooter rested the barrel of Rock Cannon on the ground, holding her katana to the side from a few moments before they both dissipated into blue light again, leaving her totally unarmed. Quietly, she glanced around the vast desert that they had been teleported to. No, it seemed as if there was truly no-where to go beyond the ruins of the buildings… there had to be some out. Some escape from this ruined world. She had to leave. The Otherself had to continue her pursuit of Dead Master, to save her from the strange figure who had taken her away.

It was her goal above all else.

Meawhile, the blonde girl paused for a moment, looking up at the new arrival who had helped to save her. She was crackling with electricity… crackling… that meant the generation of electricity from her body as possible, as well as the manipulation thereof. Which meant… meant… why was all of this suddenly coming to mind…? Native God… a being formed from and fueled by belief to be divine… Otherself, a being formed to represent the thoughts and feelings of a human in an alternate world… Imperial Guard, the footsoldiers of a-

She shook her head. She didn’t even know any of that before, why was she… Trying not to focus on such sudden and strange thoughts, she managed to mumble “Thank you.”



Dlanor glanced to the side. One of her fellow agents, Belladonna, was nearby. There was little else for them to do at this point, aside from ensure that everyone and everything made their way safely to the planet. Teleporation was quite useful, but for mass numbers like this there were risks, and these risks made more conventional travel with interdimensional vessels a more appealing option for most people. A malfunction with a single person being teleported was bad enough, and could lead to injury. Mass amounts of people? The results could be truly horrific. Thankfully, it was an option that the UMMA rejected, using teleportation for small-scale movement or emergency exclusively.

This seemed rather calm, for the moment… At least, until Dlanor heard the screams. Immediately her head snapped up, and her golden eyes locked on the source. The nearby museum, igniting with flames as people desperately crowded to get out. There was no time for hesitation, or any such thing.

“Belladonna,” she began, calmly, “We must act QUICKLY.”

Her luggage was placed aside as the Inquisitor of Heaven sprang off the pathway to the ground below.



“Mmnn…”

The tiny, pale girl’s eyes cracked open. She had… this was not her destination… She had been intended to report directly back to the UMMA’s higher ups before anything else… Even the repair of her prosthetic could wait, in her mind. She had failed in her mission to keep the research facility secured and protect the contents from the flame-wielding attacker and the strange doll-like creature that had consumed part of her prosthetic.

Lying there, she slowly caught sight of the crackling teleporter she had used. Oh, it had been damaged…

“… I… must report…” she said, attempting to sit up, weakly.

Among the crowd, a man strode out. He was an unusual sight, dressed in medieval armor, with a silver helmet topped with a red feather. His cloth and chainmail chest armor was adorned with a yellow and red sun.

“There must be some form of assistance I can provide!” he declared. In spite of the situation, he seemed quite determined to help regardless of the dangers it could pose to one who was not an agent. “As an adherent of the sun, I cannot stand by!”

It didn’t make much sense, but at least he seemed like he wanted to help?



“… Haah?”

The woman raised an eyebrow, a look of mild irritation crossing her face. “Jeez, what’s the issue? I’m not lying, I don’t want to prolong my stay in this rotting garbage heap any longer than I need to.”

She sighed, resting her massive pick on her shoulder as she did. “I have no idea what world this is. It’s definitely not administrated, that’s for sure. We would’ve been helping out with this garbage if it was, but rules are rules and fuck rules but we’re not allowed to do anything about this mess. We can interfere if there’s some weird dimensional travel shit going on, and well it looks like you were the weird dimensional travel shit. That’s why I was tracing you.”

The woman waved her device. “Even if this piece of crap can barely trace a goddamn black hole.”



Kiba was simply, calmly, requested to report. That was all. It wasn’t as if the intervention of another powerful newcomer had been anticipated, so there was no reason to inflict punishment. She had issued the order to retreat, as well.

Numerous other reported lit up her consoles, declaring that something had impacted on the planet’s surface. Of course, it took only a few minutes to clarify exactly what had done so, and when the truth was revealed, the Leader leaned back in her seat. So they had returned as well. The Orks were not subtle, not in the slightest, but they were excellent fighters and seemed content to do anything that involved fighting.

She would await their full return. They could use a new assignment, and she promise to supply them with whatever materials they desired in return. It was not difficult to obtain.

Shadow Eternity Headquarters

Kiba's presence was being requested by the leader. He has no idea whether or not he's going to be berated for failing to acquire the objective and frankly, he couldn't care less. It's not like they could've seen what happened there coming. He walks into the leader's quarters without a hint of nervousness.

"I'm here, what do you want?"

Sindibad and his comrades huddled together, speaking amongst one another.
"Alright, one more time..." Sindibad said, "while the Distraction Team goes in at the target's insertion point, we go in at the target's current position. Are we ready to do this?"
"As ready as I'll ever be!" said the Trandoshan.
"They won't know what hit them!" said the Roidmude.
"Hreeeee!" said the Snakeman.

Sindibad nodded. To think that he'd be going on black ops missions against his own employers mere minutes after quitting was preposterous, and yet... it felt good!
"You know the plan, you know the location, you know the time. Teleport on 3. Ready? 1...2...3!"
With a subtle 'fwip', the trio were gone. On a direct trip to this unknown Client World's museum campus, not even an attempt at a signature-masking. Shadow Eternity would know who did this, and they wouldn't be happy.


With an equally-subtle 'fwip', Sindibad and his comrades appeared in a bright flash of light, just a few steps behind Cinder Fall herself.

"HAIL SHADOW ETERNITY!" howled the Trandoshan, already firing his blaster wildly just after teleporting in. Screaming cries of support to Shadow Eternity at the top of his lungs, he made sure that anyone monitoring this incursion would fully understand who was doing it.

The Roidmude merely stood, crossing his arms and assessing the area. Certainly, this area was large enough for that. Chuckling hollowly, the Roidmude procured a strange vaguely car-shaped object. With a strangely nonchalant air, the Roidmude popped the strange object into his mouthpiece, and immediately disappeared in a bright flash of smoke and light.

Sindibad and the Snakeman looked around wildly, hoping to find some civilians to terrorize. Unfortunately, it seemed the only person in here was a pink-haired woman wearing a white scarf and hoodie. Still, a single civilian casualty would be better than none. They'd kill this civilian, and then go off to find Cinder Fall.
Baring his teeth in a rictus grin, the Snakeman brought his Heavy Plasma rifle to bear, and launched a volley of neon-green shots right at Cinder Fall!

Yggdrasil - Lower Levels

Gerhardt had been summoned before. Brought to another world to aide a fellow hunter against the dark forces alined against them. But every time before he had been brought to a place he had already seen, always another Yharnam across the smokey depths of space. He had been all over Yharnam, scurrying from shadow to shadow like a rat, checking every corner available to him, always on the lookout for hidden passages that would take him past the beasts before him or lead to a catch of supplies that would let him live just a little longer. He knew Yharnam.

This was not Yharnam. No wall in Yharnam was white, and no passageway was this perfectly square. It was some place he had never seen before. Perhaps this is what put him on edge enough to save him. Perhaps his hunter instincts, freed from the fog they had been enveloped it since his encounter with the thing in the moon, had gone into overdrive now that the fog was lifted. Perhaps it was the look of the man who stood before him, ringing the bell. He didn't have the look of a man in danger, one who was so desperate for help that they'd call out to strangers across the gulf of worlds. He had a different look, one that Gerhardt had seen on the faces of those poor souls opposite number; men so desperate for blood they struck out across the gulf in search of other hunters.

In truth, it was a combination of these things that put him on edge. That caused him to dodge to the side just as the man behind him (there was always something there, behind you) lunged forward with the needle. The man let out a yelp of surprise as Gerhardt turned to face him, practiced hands descending to the saw blade holstered at his side. Bringing it up and snapping it open in one smooth motion Gerhardt brought the serrated edge down on the mans neck and pulled. There was a scream as he stumbled backwards grasping at the jagged wound, but Gerhardt paid him no more mind. He knew what a death rattle sounded like by now. He turned to face the bell man, who had dropped the thing and was reaching into the pocket of his jacket. Gerhardt ran forward two steps, just as the man withdrew some sort of boxy firearm. Gerhardt flipped the sawblade closed before the man could get his shot off, swinging the weapon and leaving a clean wound across his chest before following it up with another slice downward. He crumpled as the bell clattered to the floor, it's melodic tone seeming to single the end of violence.

The whole exchange had taken less than three seconds.

Gerhardt breathed deeply, letting the adrenalin surge in his veins in what he was ashamed to admit was blissful. Despite all the many years of inaction he was still a man at the top of his profession, and as the blood of his enemies pooled under their still bodies and filled with air with its wet copper taste he felt himself settle back into the swing of things. The scent of blood, a feeling of acute terror, and the lurking danger of the unknown. He was home, and he hated it and he loved it.

He pushed those thoughts from his mind as he got down business. Nostalgia was all well in good but he was in the business of surviving. Surviving meant observing. He was in a long white hallway, pipes running along the wall. Behind him the hallway continued, but in front of him was what looked to be some sort of door. The men at his feet were wearing garb he'd never seen before. One had on a jacket and pants made out of some smooth material that made a high pitched sound when the fabric had scraped against itself. Maybe that's how Gerhard had heard the man sneaking up on him. The other was wearing a long jacket, a bit like his, but lined with fur. Under it, now stained and ruined, was some sort of formal suit made of a cheap material. Over by the needle man is a pile of clear bags with tubes running to them. Gerhardt stooped down and picked up the boxy device that man had withdraw from his pocket and, curiously, pulled the trigger. Two needles shot out of the front, attached to wires, and there was a very slight sparking sound like that of a dark beast. He pocketed it.

That's when he heard a short *bing-bong* as the door slid open and reveled a third man "Hey, you guys done yet. We got custo-" the mans words died in his mouth when he saw Gerhardt stooping down over the bodies of his comrades. "Oh shit!" He yelled, and raised up a short, boxy firearm. Gerhardt started moving immediately, drawing his pistol as he ran, but the mans gun opened up with a mechanical *Clackclackclackclack*. He felt hot lead penetrating his body, small bullets boring their way by the dozens into his body. He pushed through the pain and, still closing the distance, brought up his own gun and fired. The quicksilver bullet impacted the mans gun hand, netting Gerhart a scream and a flinch back. That was what he needed.

He could feel precious blood flowing out of his body, and there was only one way to fix that. He didn't like doing this. It was ghastly, but more to the point it required a free hand. That meant stowing a weapon, and a few seconds without a weapon in your hand could be fatal. He threw his saw cutter ahead of him, into what looked like the tiny room this man had been hiding in. He felt his hand warp, grow, painfully cracking into something more resembling a beast. He hit the gunmen in a dead run, pushing him up against the back wall as the door closed automatically behind them. He heard the man give a few wet gasps as he realized that Gerhardt was elbow deep inside of him before he ripped the arm from the mans stomach in a spray of blood. He slumped to the floor as Gerhardt felt the blood he'd been spattered with enter his wounds, pushing out the slugs and stitching them up good as new. He shuttered and shook what he could off his cape. That's when he heard another *bing-bong* and the door opened up again.

Please try to imagine this: you are in a back alley clinic specialized in dealing with substances that are not entirely legal. You have perhaps come here to get your weekly fix, have something illegally implanted into you, or perhaps sample this new injection that you have been assured is "better than space cocaine." The men who run this establishment go down in their elevator to retrieve some more product. They do not return, so the third man goes down to look. That elevator comes back up, opens it's door, and there is a armed man standing in the elevator. He is, like the walls, covered in blood and the man you came to get your fix from is slumped in the corner gutted like a fish. This man turns and looks at you.

It should come as no surprise that the moment Gerhardt stepped out of that elevator is the exact moment everyone else in the clinic remembered that they had a very urgent appointment across town. He silently watched them stream out of the building in blind panic, because really, what could you possibly say? However, after giving the room a good once over, he wished he had said something. He wished he had detained someone to explain to him exactly what had been going on here, because the surroundings were very familiar. It was all cleaner, of course. White walls, white beds with cushions, strange machines sitting next to them, but the setup was unmistakable. He'd seen it first hand, had had the procedure performed on himself.

These men had been performing Blood Ministration.

Arragoz Plizgin - 'Ome Base

Climbing out of the wreckage, the Greenskin looked none the worse for wear, much unlike the totalled Krooza. "Ridley prolly x'ploded long wiff da humie muthership, so 'e won't be com'planin' bout' 'iz ship. It wuz a nice Krooza, doh, proppa fast, jus' needed sum more dakka, a coat uv red paint, 'n' sum purple to make it gud 'n' sneaky. Maybe I'z can get a Shadoo Foreva Mek to fix'er'up?" As the Kommando was going over his plans for the ship that he now believed to be his, another 'survivor' emerged from the crashed vessel. An absolutely puny creature, light green and small compared to even a Gretchin, it could be nothing other than a Snotling: the lowest of the low in Orkoid society. Having only just emerged from a spore produced by the much larger Greenskin, it was understandably confused in regards to just about everything. This, combined with its animal-like intelligence, made it very difficult to discern what was going on in that minuscule brain of theirs.

Whatever it managed to think would remain a mystery forever, unfortunately, as it quickly caught the attention of the Ork. It barely had time to screech before vanishing into the Kommando's gullet. After loosing a mighty belch, Arragoz realized that he hadn't eaten in quite some time. "I culd go fer a Squig Pie 'n' Fungus Beer, right abowt now. Time ta find da Brewboy." Thus began the Ork's latest misshun, finding enough food to satiate an appetite arguably greater in size than himself. The first part was easy, as it simply consisted of entering the bunker. The Kommando knew the layout of the base like the notches on his choppas, allowing him to quickly make his way to the kit'chun. Upon arrival, he was treated to an amusing sight.

The kitchen had been divided into two parts, with the chef and his assistants going about their usual business on the right side, whilst trying very hard to ignore the new residents to the left of them. These squatters were none other than a trio of Gretchin, having arisen from the spores left behind by Arragoz. Under the leadership of one particular Grot, easily identified by his comically oversized Chef's Toque, they'd overrun this section of the cooking area, and set about making it proppa Orky. While there were a few bitz left untouched, most of it had been thoroughly transmogrified into something resembling a cross between a factory and a grill house. Their reaction to the larger greenskin's arrival was mixed, with one freezing in terror, another ignoring him to continue poking a roast Squig with a pointy stick, and the last running off to fetch something. The latter Gretchin swiftly returned, holding aloft a plate that could probably double as an improvised weapon, what with all the spiky gubbinz sticking out all over the place.

That was of far less concern to the Kommando, however, than its contents. A frothing mug of Fungus Beer, and a steaming Squig Pie, which also contained a few Grot bits, judging by the smell. "We lost a few roundin' up all da Squigs, din't want to waste any'ting." The Gretchin squeaked, hoping the Ork wouldn't decide to add him to the menu.

"Yer a cleva wun, you'z iz. Fanks fer da grub, ya Grot." Taking the plate, Arragoz plodded off to a nearby table. As for the Gretchin, he sighed, relieved that the first encounter with their Boss had been a non-violent one. Thus, all was well in the world, and everyone was happy. Except for the Grot in the pie, he wasn't very happy. He also wasn't very unhappy, because he was far too busy being very, very dead.

"Hey now, take it easy." Subaru placed one hand on the white-haired girl's shoulder, smiling reassuringly. "You shouldn't try to move too much until the medics have had a look at you, okay?" You got people like this sometimes in disasters, people who would leave to do something important despite their injuries. It was better if the paramedics didn't have to go looking for missing victims. "Can I get you name?"

The blue-haired girl looked up as a voice shouted out from the crowd, belonging to a very strident man in old-style metal armour.

"Uh..." Subaru looked around. There wasn't really much a civilian could (or should) do to help, but he seemed so earnest. She came to a compromise. "You shouldn't get too close, but you can help keep the perimeter clear so the medics have a clear run in."


"Right."

With a nod, Blake set her bag down beside Knox's luggage and drew Gambol Shroud from its sheath, collapsing it into its pistol form as she ran after the UMMA officer. She didn't hesitate before leaping down off of the raised walkway, landing with catlike grace beside the Inquisitor.

Her ears perked up underneath her bow as her hearing picked up another sound behind the screams. "Gunfire." She hissed, frowning. The fires were no accident, then. Another attack, so soon after they'd landed? That couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Her mouth set in a grim line, she rushed towards the museum entrance, weapon in one hand, the other waving and urging civilians to get to safety.