Welcome to the Ranking Headquarters Lobby, where the various fighters involved in the rankings can feel free to come and look for fights personally, instead of waiting for them to fall from the sky.

The design of the Lobby mirrors that of Liaison's very own, as he hs graciously allowed us to use the blueprints; however, we made a few minor adjustments, almost entirely to the asethetics on the outside, to look like the picture above.

All things are still there, just in different areas.

On the left side, each contained in one of the three additions, is the

Cafeteria
Viewing Area
Hospice

And one the three to the right

Viewing Area
Exercise Room
Barracks

Either one on the end hosts the dimensional space-time machines.

Like Liaison, our noble benefactor, we do allow for sabotage, may it forever aid you.

There are some differences however, as we know many may not want to just pick up a fight without a reason; we've included dimensional space-time portals that allow for fighters to get the needed reasons to fight, by returning them to whatever place they choose to begin their long, elaborate entrances.

That said, feel free to explore the premises. There are several amenities and staff members to help your transition.

The Art of Sabotage:
You can only sabotage a competitor that has arrived at the Lobby.
Direct damage on a opponent in the lobby area and all associated places, outside of the actual rounds is disallowed.
No killing outside of the rounds.
Four day response limit. This means real-time. If you do not reply appropriately and in time, then the sabotage will take full effect.
No metagaming. Blatant offenses triggers the sabotage automatically, no matter what.

In the halls of the RHL, a bustle of noise and people rang through the halls. Various beings from various planar existences chose this as their meeting ground, and some chose it as their stomping ground. It was a one of a kind locale, unmatched in obscurity and beauty. At least to most comers and goers, and within these halls there were many places to choose from. Many options of activity to occupy yourself as you await your next foray into the multiverse, or your last.

In the enormous cafeteria, several warriors had amassed at a table opposing a table with just one much smaller warrior.

This warrior?

Was none other than Kanitah Noraha Ayna, the hero of Pundambaya.

The dozen or so fighters watched in awe as the catering staff of the cafeteria brought him plate after plate of food from various times, worlds, and dimensions. Scarfing each one down with more vim and vigor than the previous three. There were stacks of empty plates piling up faster than the staff could bring them.

It was nearly an hour and almost fifty plates of food before he was sated. In the end he was still nibbling on what looked to be a chicken wrapped in a duck, wrapped in a turkey.

One of the warriors on the opposing table nearly fainted, another actually fainted.

As Kanitah picked at his teeth with a folded napkin, he failed to notice anything was weird about how much he had just eaten.

There was a soft pop as the skeletal being stepped through the shadowy gate into the main lobby of the massive floating building, his body wreathed in amethyst flames. While it had the look of a Liaison edifice, it lacked the overly gaudiness. It was sedated and held a distinguished aura. People scurried about, going about their duties as the skeletal being began a slow survey of the lobby. A minute later the scene was locked in the dark records of the Galdhr, already being studied and experienced by Dreamers.

There seemed to be a disturbance in one section of the building. Several people hurrying past him spoke of an amazing feat; someone was eating copious amounts of food. This piqued the interest of the Dreamer, while food was no longer a part of their existence, the act of eating was required for many life forms. The fact that someone was eating gluttonously was certainly something to examine.

Making his way in the direction the workers had come, Skallagrim paused examining a map of various arenas linked to the building. Clearly Liaison had allowed the builders access to his considerable technology to link so many fields of death to this building. A closer inspection of the technology required to do so would be on the list of things that Skallagrim would do while here.

Had it been something the Dreamers erected the gates would be fueled by the galdhr energies of the dark universe, but the technology used would work on most likely more conventional physics. Turning away from the arena wall the skeletal being bumped a woman of considerable size. Looking up at her Skallagrim merely stared, taking in the moment.

“Well? You gunna ‘pologize or am I gunna pound you?”

Skallagrim stared a moment before he spoke in a static filled hiss. “Gumbardian? Yes, you are a Gumbardian warrior woman. Your planet is the 9th moon circling the 6th planet in the system Scila IV. Judging by your traditional attire you have been invited to this locale as a potential combatant.”

The woman reared back, her watery eyes narrowed as she peered at the Xindhi.

“Yea? You wanna be my first victory boney?” Her meaty hand wrapping around the large laser rifle that Gumbardians enjoyed using. Her companion, a short haired tawny colored cat-boy gaped at the Xindhi before tugging at the large woman’s arm. His voice a combination of snarls and mewlings as the woman paused in her movements. Her features paled as she jerked her hand from the laser rifle, her eyes growing wide as she backed away.

“Erk . . . I am. . . I didn’t. . . “

The cat-boy stepped between them, “We are sorry; we are new to this place and didn’t realize your kind would be present.”

Skallagrim nodded to them then pushed his way past them towards the dining hall.

Returning to the scene at the table in the dining hall, Kanitah's plates had all been removed save for the human delicacy referred to as 'Turducken.' A fantastic sort of meal that had actually brought a tear to the Pundambayan's eye. Three beasts stuffed one after another into eachother and then cooked, seasoned heavily and laid out as though it were just some slab of meat. Presentation was its weakest point, but the concept and flavor was truly something to behold. For someone who was raised on hyper-gravity food, lesser gravity foods are so much lighter and more tender. Even the toughest of steaks and jerkys pale in comparison, so human food was rapidly becoming a favorite of Kanitah's.

With a Turkey Leg, Chicken Leg, and Duck Leg between each finger he gnawed on the juicy bulbs of different flavored meat. The noises he made as the meat fell apart to his tongue and teeth were unpleasant, but the flavor was so savory that he didn't care.

As his eyes drifted across the room, noticing for the first time the swooning warrior and the unconscious one as well, he saw a skeletal figure making its way through the door. Tall som'bitch. Purple bits and such, dressed like a tart though.

Meh, dresses like a weirdo and looks to be an undead. Can't be any worse than some of the other unpleasantries he's faced down. With his free hand, his right hand, Kanitah waved to the newcomer. Opting to not speak for two reasons;

A: He doesn't have his translator in.
B: It's rude to speak with your mouth full.

Why was he here?

He had told himself he wouldn't come back to a place like this, a place that reminded him of that man.

The last time he was here, he thought he had found solace, he allowed a man to decapitate him so he would be free of the Way of the Warrior tournament. Yet, here he was, sitting in another Lobby, a participant in another deadly game with stakes higher than the Way of the Warrior tournament could ever hope to achieve.

A part of some cosmic being's team, aiming to gain points for some silly game those in power were known to play.

Oh, Alphonse knew that he could turn away and ignore this - but there was a mission that continued to draw him forward.

He now stood within the cafe of the Lobby, an ornate room with foods that spanned multiverses and times. A man across the room was busy filling his table repeatedly with food, which vanished down his gullet almost as soon as it arrived. Many fighters were fascinated by the sight, and truth be told, Alphonse wondered where it went.

Since he had been here, he had met a Combustion Maven, a Psiconic, three Members of the Resistance, and finally, someone who had stored themselves away when a strange power flowed into existence here just moments ago. A Forgotten. They identified themselves as members of his team, all employed by the same cosmic being. Were there truly no limits to how many members a team could field?

Letting his chi flow freely around him, Alphonse was able to detect people and things within the Lobby. The light blue power saturated everything, before sucking back and returning back to him.

---

The Members of the Resistance stood on the other side of the cafe, silently talking among themselves, when Worren spoke out, motioning towards a hooded figure walking through the door.

"I've faced him before, nasty bugger."
---

The Forgotten appeared quietly in his room, sliding his scythe across the air before him. Dust-like particles formed and the cafeteria was shown, particularly the amethyst exuding man that was clearly kin - a Dreamer - Enemy.

Pausing at the entrance; Skallagrim the Cughtagh, Xindhi and Dreamer, faithful servant of the Dreaming Queen felt something niggling at the edge of his perceptions. Thrumming the Aser, seeking he knew not what, the energy flowed from him. Framing the entirety of the room, he found traces, minute lingering traces of Galdhr.

Forgotten!

Skallagrim’s energies flared brightly casting a purple hue throughout the cafeteria before dimming to almost non-existence. Blazing pinpricks of amethyst light swirled in the dark, hollow eye sockets. Deep in the hidden realm of the Dreamers, hundreds of thousands stirred in their slumber.

While the Forgotten had not been seen in untold ages, having gone deeper into the Galdhr when Ghoukas was beaten in the last war of the Dreamers, the presence of one was of the utmost import. Had they gathered their strength again? Had they come to wage war on the Dreamers? Had they found a way to waken the Lord of Nightmares from his slumber?

Swirling energies flickered along his body, a slight humming, low and below the hearing of most thrummed in a slow rhythmic drone. Somewhere a Forgotten walked; somewhere the fate of the Dreamers lay in the presence of such a creature. The Gothi counselors spoke in rapid images, their thoughts jumbled and confused. Until a single voice spoke, a single sound dominating the babble, Scathach the Dreaming Queen silenced all with a single word.

Silence drifted for eons as all lay waiting for her to speak again. When she did it was focused like a laser, her word cut through all opposition.

“My Cughtagh shall observe and keep us informed. If war is to come, we shall meet it head on. If it is simply a lost Xindhi, we shall allow it to continue its existence. If it poses a threat to all, it shall be destroyed.”

Then it was settled. Then the Dreamers fell back into their fitful slumber, each anxious. Each fearful of what may come.

Skallagrim nodded towards the porcine appetited being, before moving towards a group of three individuals who seemed to radiate a trace amount of familiar energies.

The Combustion Maven watched the proceedings of the cafeteria, through his mask. Along with the other Members of the Resistance he had been brought along on the team for the cosmic being to fight for points. He couldn't be sure who it was, but all intelligence gathered by his other half revealed that he had ties to several of the big bads of the multiverse they were plucked from.

His other half was a String Trapper, and their relationship was unique. Like their great-grandfather, the Combustion Maven and the String Trapper had a severe form of multiple personality disorder. They were born with two personalities, and with the progression of the illness, and the effects of their bloodlines, the personalities gained their own abilities and the skill to separate into two different beings.

So where was the String Trapper known as Nihl? Another fact finding mission. He would arrive at some point, as he always did, to deliver whatever news he found out.

So Terra, the Combustion Maven, sat away from the rest of the members. That was always the plan, he worked better with Nihl anyway.

At the moment, his eyes were on the being eating the copious amounts of food, which had dwindled down to the Turducken, a delicacy probably from the United States, a country on Planet Earth in the Milky Way Galaxy.

He let his eyes wander for a moment on the hooded and robed fellow that passed on the way to the trio of resistance members. The moment passed and he went back to watching the Turducken eater.

A modern marvel.

---

Oh, a wily one. Judging by the sudden appearance and disappearance of energies, this particular Dreamer knew something odd was afoot. Ghoukas had warned him of this eventuality, that the Dreamers were feared here.

---

Trent was the first to react to the approaching Dreamer, though the action wasn't taken against him. No, he stopped Worren Xue, the Fire Ninja from summoning any one of his tools. Begrudgingly, he listened. Trent, after all, was the head of the Resistance.

"Welcome, er...," he drew a blank, didn't know his name.

"Skallagrim," Worren said, before stalking off and sitting next to the Turducken bandit. His eyes didn't leave the hooded creature.

Old wounds died hard.

Trent nodded, and was flanked by Jet, the Wind, the second in command. There were three others, though he didn't tap any of them. That's why only Jet and Worren came as part of the three man group, and reluctantly, with the two man tandem, Terra and Nihl.

Trent gestured towards an empty table, and headed towards it - taking a seat on the other side.

"Judging by the looks you're getting, and the way that other fellow whisked away just before you arrived, I'd say you're a big deal."

Trent was a gruff, slightly muscular man - and without fail, always carried a necklace of rods, including a very rare, very highly sought after one. One that could extend even without his abilities. Jet was slightly more lithe, and dressed like one of the cool kids in the kung fu movies. In a vein similar to Trent, Jet wore his weaponry on his person, but more like a belt. A belt of nunchaku.

The entrance hall briefly lit up with a deep blue shine and then dimmed just as suddenly. For a moment the room seemed darker than it had been before, until slowly the sound of quietly whirring machinery permeated the air. There was only a receptionist staring curiously at the newcomer, and the newcomer was straightening his jacket with a jerking efficiency. He turned his head quizzically to one side as he regarded the woman at the desk.

“A receptionist? How cliché.” He said, his voice grating, two steps carried him past the desk and down the corridor. The sound of machinery growing quieter by the moment as the strange humanoid strode off towards the main lobby area, where he assumed the most activity could be found. The receptionist paused for a moment as she considered the sounds he had made, her brilliant mind piecing together where she had heard such sounds before.

“Sounded… like clockwork.”

The four tall and lean, muscular and long-limbed men; wearing Hawaiian shirts, board shorts and flip-flops entered the cafeteria. They had nary a care in the world and it was obvious by their loud, boisterous nature that they were headed to the outside sports bar that hung off the cafeteria.

“I am telling Kol, you are gonna love football.” JT MacLeod said as they made their way through the crowded area.

“Verily JT, I am looking forward to seeing these Patriots face the magical Seahawks.” The tall Viking said jovially as they skirted past a table of six women.

“Woah . . . Hello ladies” Steve Wallis, aka General Freedom said as he flashed the million dollar smile. Jake ‘the Under’ Taker stopped; grinning at the tawny furred tigress who met his gaze. The larger Steve dwarfed the three men with him, yet his smile and the look in his eyes spoke of supreme confidence.

JT and Kolskegg, who had taken the lead, cut in front of Skallagrim, bumping into him, knocking him off his stride. Kolskegg, turning looked the skeletal being up and down a minute before muttering a sheepish apology.

Skallagrim, thrown for a minute by the interaction, stared and then memorized the event. It was some sort of courting ritual to be sure, but it was one he was not familiar with. He cracked his neck and turned his attention back to the men he originally was approaching.

JT, having seen the women that the other two were talking two gripped the Viking’s arm and led him back to the table of women in time to hear Steve say.

“. . . anyway we’re headed to the sports bar, would you care to join us?

Kolskegg, not really known for his tact turned his attention towards the table in time to come face to face with a rather tall amazon whose smile was absolutely dazzling.

“Um . . .Kolskegg.”

“Pardon me?”

JT chuckling, slapped the large man on the back, “Sorry. My friend’s name is Kolsegg . . .” Before he could finish a dark mocha skinned girl with the largest, green eyes he had ever seen smiled at him.

“Aralandra. I am Aralandra Skavarish and these are my friends. We’re headed to the pool. They have a bar there. . . “

The six-women and four men made their way to the pool bar.

A creeping shadow slunk through the doors of the Citadel and coalesced quickly into a male form. Cho stepped forth from the dissipating shadows and nodded to himself; this seemed like a nice place. Noisy, crowded, peaceful (thankfully). After assuring the counter lady that his weapons were depowered and non-hostile (the latter of which had drawn a strange look from her), he'd made his way to the cafeteria, not noticing the four loudly dressed men that had entered earlier.

The whole multiverse business was starting to grow on the Korean, though he wasn't sure if he could even call himself a Korean any more. Last he'd heard of Earth, the entire planet had been nuked and glassed and was destroyed in its entirety. He was homeless, effectively, but then again since when did he need a home here in the multiverse?

"Where are we, boss?"

Cho could feel Tac speak against his back. The daemon was not at ease, obviously; he too could sense the overflowing fonts of power that each room held. Here, a skeletal being that felt as if a universe could contain itself within him, there a man with an absolutely stunning and inhuman appetite. The place was amazingly...interesting.

"We're in the Fighting Lobby, Tac. It's a place where fighters like us gather to rest and enjoy ourselves."

"That's cool, boss, but aren't we on a -"

"Nope, we're on a break, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

He could remember his last fight, a hand-to-hand match against an undead boxer named Tre'yan. It hadn't ended well for either of them; he could still feel the bruises where he'd been punched over and over again. He couldn't quite remember who had won, though, possibly because of the blows he'd received to the head as well. Sore, yes, but he was on the road to recovery.

Hek vibrated in his thigh holster.

"Sire."

"Something up, Hek?"

"A familiar scent. Observe."

With an accuracy, Hek used Cho's eyes to point out one of the loudly dressed men that had gone ahead earlier. They were exiting to the outside, a gaggle of girls with them. That man though...his face was familiar.

"Your benefactor, sire. Remember him?"

"Oh...yeah."

It seemed like forever but Cho remembered. The Viking warrior, Kolskegg, had fought him and his team in a forest in the countryside of upstate Canada. His team, friends of many years, had all been killed, and he would've died too had it not been for the Viking's timely intervention. It had transformed him into who he was today. It had introduced him to the four daemons that were his new friends and team.

In a way, he owed the Viking one. He hadn't seen the warrior anyway, not since the forest. Last he'd known, he'd left the Viking on the forest floor, healing from his wounds while he went off to figure out his shadow abilities.

A smile crossed his face. Perhaps there was a new friend to be made here.

"You going to see him, boss?"

"Yeah, gonna say hi. Haven't seen him in ages."

He dove into the shadows again, being quicker this way, and slunk his way through the crowded cafeteria. When he'd reached the rear of the group, he emerged from the shadows and took up a walk just behind Kolskegg. When he felt the time was right (and the crowd had lessened to the point where he didn't need to shout), he spoke.

"Kolskegg, how nice to see you again."

Skallagrim turned towards the men with the lingering trace of the Forgotten. The aesr swirling around his head, he was searching their energy signatures.

"Judging by the looks you're getting, and the way that other fellow whisked away just before you arrived, I'd say you're a big deal."

After a moment he spoke in a low hiss, “Tell your companion . . . I hunt him not. While we are in these halls I shall not seek war with him.”

Looking up then around, the Dreamer spoke in the ancient language of the Dreamers,

“Mae gennych air yr Breuddwydio Frenhines eich bod yn ddiogel yn y neuaddau hyn. Mae'r Breuddwydwyr estyn cyfarchion a lles i chi. Un brawd dydd, byddwch unwaith eto yn gweld golau Seidhr.” *

Looking at the man before him he sat down across from him, the thrum of aesr flowing away from him in slow pulses. “Now, tell me why you would be in a company with a kinsman of mine.”

***

As the four men and the six women started to exit for the outside bar, the sudden appearance of the man caused the four men to take up uneasy but very ready stances. Some of them, hell three of them would remind Cho of the fighting styles of a long gone time when he trained in these styles. The largest man by far, towering over the Viking stepped forward slightly, a blue glow around his fists, “Friend of your’s Kol?”

The Viking known as Kolskegg stared a moment trying to discern where he had seen the man prior then a slow dawning spread across his face. “Indeed I do.” Stepping past his three friends, the Viking gave the Korean a bear hug, laughing the whole while, when he put down the man he looked at the others, “This. . . this is the sorcerer I spoke of! This is Cho of the Ruins.”

The three men relaxed, then JT spoke up as he eyed the weapons Cho wore, “Whew bud, helluva a load out. What are you hunting dragons?”

Laughing at the joke, Jake grabbed a beer off a tray as the server walked passed them, spinning he handed the bottle to Cho, “Anyone who almost kicked this lugs ass deserves a beer.”

General Freedom extended a massive hand towards the smaller man, “Sorry bud. Can’t be too careful around here ya know? General Freedom but you can call me Steve.”

Looking back at the women, who had proceeded towards the pool, dropping their wraps, showing off their frames in bikinis. Nodding towards them, Steve said, “Well come on Cho, party’s about to start and another brother is always welcome.”

“Verily, you must join us Cho. We must drink to the All-Father for providing us such a glorious fight.” Kolskegg said as he nodded towards the pool, “I am going to learn of this Football my companions speak of. Let us rest and share drink and stories and the companionship of friends. It shall be as if we were in Valhalla itself.”

*You have the word of the Dreaming Queen you are safe in these halls. The Dreamers extend greetings and wellbeing to you. One day brother you will again see the light of Seidhr.

Cho yelped as he got swept into the most crushing bear hug of his life, prompting Kris (who was sandwiched between the Viking and her boss' chest) to protest.

"Hey you lunkhead get offa me don't make me make the boss shoot you -"

"Relax, Kris, he's a friend now. Chill."

He gave the submachine gun a little pat on the holographic sight, which made its trembling calm down noticeably. He looked back up and smiled sheepishly, most likely trying to not look weird while four men pondered why someone was talking to a gun.

“This. . . this is the sorcerer I spoke of! This is Cho of the Ruins.”

"Fancy title for a man. I prefer being called a Reaper nowadays. But it's nice to see you too, Kol."

He smiled and clapped Kolskegg on the shoulder, relaxing a fair bit as he sized up the other three men in front of him.

“Whew bud, helluva load out. What are you hunting, dragons?”

Cho laughed and shook his head, gently adjusting Tac where he hung on his shoulder.

"Nah, pirates. Some space corp wanted me to shut down a bunch of marauders taking down their ships on one of their trading routes. You won't believe how much metal this guy can eat through."

He gave Tac a pat and the rifle chuckled.

" 'Ey you did most of the work boss. I just helped."

“Well anyone who almost kicked this lug's ass deserves a beer.”

He smiled and caught the beer one of the other three men tossed at him, simultaneously shaking the huge man's hand with his own.

“Sorry bud. Can’t be too careful around here ya know? General Freedom but you can call me Steve.”

"Nice meeting you Steve. Cho Sun-Jin, but everyone calls me Cho. And if you're wondering why I'm talking to my weapons, let me introduce you to my team."

Cho pointed to the knife seated within a scabbard attached to his back rigging.

"That's Barr, my trusty knife. Say hi, Barr."

The knife rattled in its scabbard and an eye on the hilt opened, its gaze sweeping slowly across the four men. When he spoke his voice was muffled by the leather scabbard, but still audible enough for the other men to hear.

"Nice meetin' ya'll."

Cho drew his pistol and flipped him around onto his palm, letting the four men take a look at the demonic-looking thing.

"This here's Hek. He's the oldest."

The pistol rumbled audibly and settled into Cho's palm.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sires."

He shook his head and smiled as he stowed the pistol back in his holster.

"Now Kol, I'm sure you're familiar with these next two, though they weren't alive at the time. This here's Kris."

Cho lifted the Vector submachine gun slung across his chest, and the eye within the holographic sight swiveled and laid sight on the four men. The gun giggled(?!) and hopped a little in his hands.

"Yo!"

"She's a lively one. And, last but not least, the leader of this little bunch, and a weapon I'm sure you're very familiar with, Kol, meet Tac."

Cho let Kris rest against his chest and unslung Tac from his shoulder. The sniper rifle peered up at the four assembled men, and his compensator molded into what was easily recognisable as a smile.

"G'afternoon chaps! Fancy seeing you again, Kol! Boss man here's told stories to us about you! Mainly about how he got into a fight with you and how you kicked his ars- "

Cho quickly clamped a hand over the rifle's muzzle and grinned sheepishly.

"He gets talkative with friends."

He slung Tac across his back again and stuffed his hand in his pocket when the man named Steve spoke.

“Well come on Cho, party’s about to start and another brother is always welcome.”

“Verily, you must join us Cho. We must drink to the All-Father for providing us such a glorious fight. I am going to learn of this Football my companions speak of. Let us rest and share drink and stories and the companionship of friends. It shall be as if we were in Valhalla itself.”

With beer in hand, Cho drew Barr and popped the cap off the bottle. He resheathed the knife and took a long, refreshing swig, sighing in relief after. He smiled as he took off his gloves, stowing them in a pocket while he unzipped his combat vest.

After all, he was on vacation.

"And you, my friend, are going to tell me how you met these three fine gentlemen. I'm guessing you guys hail from Earth?"

The Clockwork Man made his way down the corridor, his body jerking oddly as if stiff at random infrequent intervals. If one looked closely past the fine Victorian London attire, including the jaunty cap on his head, then they might note that his metallic body was a brown bronze. That and the strange protruding telescopic eye suggested that the Clockwork Man was still in his original form, having not yet discovered Elmorium. His presence at the Lobby however showed that he had at least won victory at the Nexus of Worlds, hence now owning a Dreamer artefact that allowed him a certain degree of interdimensional and interspatial travel.

The Clockwork Man wasn’t really looking for anything in particular, he had long been sent to wandering in a quest to obtain the only thing he longed for after finally defeating his brother and ensuring the safety of his family. His path had often brought him into conflict, but quite honestly he was a scientist and inventor foremost, so curiosity often got the best of him.

He wandered the facility for some time, exploring every nook and cranny, and obtaining odd glances from other visitors when they saw him tapping the glass or staring off into the distant sky, muttering to himself about equations and gravitational negations. However, he finally took his experiment too far when standing in the cafeteria he gave the window an odd look, twisted his head in that strange way of his, and calmly drew his pistol and fired. The shocking bang of the Clockwork Pistol discharging had people all around him jumping to their feet, weapons drawn, but the window was unscathed. More importantly, the round hadn’t ricochet and shot some poor unfortunate in the ass, so where had it gone?

Surrounded by an angry mob howling for his blood, of which he had none, the Clockwork Man resumed tapping the window of the cafeteria.

The words in the ancient langauge reached him as easily as a knife sliding through butter. The Dreamer saw fit to speak with him as though they were on terms of equals.

He replayed the words in his head, refusing to think of it in terms of that Dreamer langauge, but the langauge that was common among those in this 'verse.

You have the word of the Dreaming Queen you are safe in these halls. The Dreamers extend greetings and wellbeing to you. One day brother you will again see the light of Seidhr.

He depised the Seidhr, he had forsaken it for the Galdhr. That was why he was shunned as a Forgotten. Had this Dreamer been sent to these very halls as a watcher, of course, that was their foremost job - to watch, to record, to observe.

Observe then, dear Dreamer, the return of the Forgotten - the return of the Grim Reaper.

The Forgotten slowly phased out of the room, appearing as silently as the mythical reaper of the Human World, outside of the Lobby, atop one of the many hulls - this one, the Hospice.

---

Trent's eyebrow raised speculatively, as the oddly dressed man near demanded answers. As Leader of the Rebellion, and Man of Earth, his demeanor changed naught, though he could sense the change in Jet.

Jet, as smooth as the wind with his voice and his actions, looked across the table at Skallagrim, as Worren had named him, "He is simply a part of the team, as all my brethern in the Rebellion are. Make no mistake, your similarly dressed kin is not a member of the Rebellion, but he is a member of our team."

Trent leaned forward on his elbows, the slight distance between them filled with the clinking of the miniature rods around his neck, "We'll pass along the message." His voice was deeep, strong, befitting of a man his stature. "What is one of your kind doing here? We understand that your kinsmen, as you named him, is not of our world, meaning neither are you. You seem to have some power, judging by the effect you're having on some of the people here," he motioned around the cafeteria, specifically at the people either staring with evil intentions, or giving the robed man a wide berth.

At the sound of a bang, Worren was among those who stood, fire blazing around his hands.

---

Bang.

So loud, so beautiful, still it did not move the face of the man behind the mask. He was used to sounds as loud as thus, being that he often incurred the wrath of sound at his own manipulations. Being a Combustion Maven had that particular effect.

As it were, Nihl had yet to arrive, meaning the Maven would be going it alone in all things Lobby. Not to far from him, a peculair looking... thing, had fired a rather loud shot at the window, and it didn't return to bite him, or anyone else, comically in the ass. The Maven looked arounda t the variety of weapons and magic, noting that some even seemed to be rather unique in application. After all, you don't often see electrified ram horns on the head of small children.

The Combustion Maven, Terra, turned his head slightly to the left and looked at the unique blade to his side. He had not yet revealed the name to those who had asked, but did reveal its properties. The blade was more like a wedge, as all blades were, but with the application of his abilities, could be extended out to reveal several preset paper bombs with quite powerful applications.

He turned his attention back to the inquistive man, and smiled. He would be one to watch. The Maven spied Worren and sighed inwardly.

Always the hot head.

In the emasculate halls of the futuristic lobby of the RHL a small black dot formed in the air just above the reception desk, starting at the size of a quarter, the dot slowly began to expand into a flat circular shape. The disk seemed to be some kind of portal, but all that can be seen through the event horizon was an empty black abyss. The portal idled in the air for several seconds until a figure, obscured in blurred light, suddenly descended from the portal and landed on top of the reception desk, barely making a sound as it did. The figure stood still for a moment until the blurred light faded away revealing a man, slowly falling backwards.

Scion let out a loud yelp as he slid off of the receptionist's desk and onto an empty chair. The chair was barely affected by the sudden weight and smoothly rolled backwards with the lingering momentum. The receptionist, who had had enough sense to move instead of stare, was now standing beside Scion with a slightly irritated look on her face. Scion flashed her a nervous grin as he stood up and pretended to brush off his sleeves. He noticed that the receptionist was quite pretty, with her sharp blue eye wreathed in brilliant blonde hair and complimented by her pale skin. Trying not to sound too embarrassed, he tries to quickly apologize to her, "Sorry for dropping in so unexpectedly. I tend not to always get the altitude quite right when jumping into random universes and..." The receptionist just continued to give him a blank stare. "You don't seem to understand or maybe?" Scion started to look excited, "You are fascinated?!" He starts to gesture wildly with his hands, "Well I'll tell you something interesting then. I am a man who invented his very own inter-dimensional travel device and I have traveled across many strange and interesting worlds across the many multi-verses." He points to the sky, "Now I have chosen this world to be next exciting adventure," he then points at the receptionist and grins, "And maybe you can be my next companion to travel with me on my exciting journey through the-!"

"Can you please move to the other side of the desk." The receptionist interrupted.

"Uhh?" Scion wasn't quite sure what to say having been derailed from his epic introduction, so he absentmindedly complies with the receptionists request and walks to the front of the desk, looking like a lost puppy as he does so. The receptionist takes a deep breath, then starts speaking rather sternly to him, "Listen. I don't know where you come from, but inter-dimensional travel is nothing new here and is in fact the main form of travel for most. You are currently in the Ranking Headquarters Lobby, where various fighters come to fight for one of the various gods that are backing them and earn points for their cause. So I with that in mind. Are you here to register or go on about how cool you think you are? Um... Sir?"

Scion just continued to stand there looking dumbfounded. He had not been expecting to find a place like this. Having seen very few worlds in which even a half way decent method of alternate dimensional travel existed, let alone cross inter-dimensional. To then suddenly find a place with full blown multi-verse tech as the main travel, and it be common place. It was overwhelming. However, the even more frightening prospect was the fact that everyone here. Came to fight each other for points. He took several moment to gather his thoughts, but finally spoke up, "I am not sure this is for me. I really don't like hurting people if I can help it and killing is just out of the question."

The receptionist looked a little surprised to hear this. ->Perhaps it is rare to meet passive people in a place like this?<- Scion thought to himself, but before he could linger on that somber idea, the receptionist's look of surprise faded, and began to shift into a rather animalistic smirk. She then spoke in an alluring voice, "Well you are in luck then."

"I am?" was Scion's lame response.

"Yes!" She answered sounding even more excited, "You see. When people fight here. They don't actually fight them. At least not the original."

"Go on." Scion was fascinated by what he was hearing. ->What could she mean by original?<- he hastily thought.

"Well you see." She answered, as if reading his mind, "When someone wants to hold a fight here. They go to one of the two dimensional space-time machines." She points to two large buildings at the ends of the hall, "They then select a field and time, and. Pay attention now. A doppelganger is spawned in to fight for them." Scion looked ready to explode with the amount of excitement on his face, which the receptionist seemed all too eager to leave her audience enraptured. Taking a slight pause before continuing, she continues to explain "The doppelganger copies all the abilities and equipment of the user and is then connect to the user via a mental link. It is from that point forward that the doppelganger becomes you, and will remain so until it dies or when the fight is over. In whichever case. You will be deposited back into your original body safe and sound."

Scion let out, what was probably a very girly, squeal of delight, "Oh my god! That is so cool!" He jumped up and down and spun in a circle, "So it is just like a very realistic virtual reality game."

"Well yeah I guess, but you do still feel all the pain and death." The receptionist added. Scion's smile noticeably faded at that statement, "But if you surrender, then you immediately go back to your body, so the opponent only feels as much pain as they are comfortable with." She quickly amends. A look of understanding crosses Scion's face and his smile returns, but not as strongly.

"So you just need to not go all out immediately." Scion amends in response, "Still it sounds good. Well I guess I can register, though I don't really have a backing god...Hmm...I got it! Sign me up as being backed by Dennis!"

"What!" was the sudden and very loud response from Scion's wrist. "You can't sign me up as a god!" Dennis protested.

"Why not? You're already a nonphysical ethereal existence, with a superiority complex, and who likes to observe the real world from the safety of an outer dimension." Scion countered.

"But. But." Dennis Stuttered.

Scion ignores him and continues on, "Besides you will make a great god. You can brag about all the points you have to the other deities. Then they have to acknowledge how great you are!" Scion pumped Dennis into the air while making a fist.

"I...Well. OK. Just. Just don't embarrass me." Dennis finally relented.

"So, you will be fighting for ah? Dennis?" The receptionist asked, not quite understanding the strange relationship between Scion and his watch. Though she was still happy she had convinced him to join. It was also nice to find someone that still seem genuinely excited about what she had to say. So many of the fighters paid her so little mind. ->It is very boring being a receptionist dam it!<- she thought angrily to herself, but didn't let it show.

"I will actually also be registered as a fighter." Dennis quickly added, "I am after all. Always at Scion's side."

"OK, So Scion and Dennis." She asks, and Scion gives her a thumbs up in response. She types up there entry information and with a final click indoctrinates them in, "OK. Scion and Dennis. Welcome to the Ranking System! Please have lots of fun. Oh and Scion."

"Yeah?" Scion asked in a curious manner.

"Do visit sometime, and tell me about your interesting adventures. If you actually win a few fights then maybe I'll be inclined to take you up on your offer to be. Oh what was it. Your companion" She holds up her fingers and forms air quotes as she says the last part, then gives him a smile. "I'll even tell you my name." Scion blushed at this statement, but smiles and nods while giving her a thumbs up. He then proceeds down the hall with determination in his eyes, with his curiosity satisfied and a whole world of...Well worlds to explore. He was ready to face whatever lay before him, and then he heard a loud bang from down the hall and proceeded to dive for cover. He swore he could feel the receptionist rolling her eyes at this rather pathetic display, though to be fair. It seemed that many of the other onlookers were not too pleased by the sound either. Scion quickly scrambled off the floor and, in an attempt to look less lame, headed towards the source of the sound. The place was huge, but loud noises tended to carry pretty well across large solid walls. There was that and the that fact other people were also making their way to the sound that made it easy to find the source. Scion came up to what looked to be a cafeteria of some kind. Though it did seem to be a bit better equipped than any of the lunch rooms he had been in as a kid.

The cause of the sound seemed to be a very odd looking man with a twitchy body. He was looking out a rather large window seeming to pay no mind to the growing crowd behind him. It seemed like a lynch mob was in the cards, if the flaming hands and drawn weapons were any indicators. The crowd itself had many interesting looking characters in it and Scion's own presence was hardly anything extraordinary compared to some of the literal barbarians standing next to him. The most ominous being though, was what looked like a literal living skeleton, complete with creepy glowing flames all over its body, and outfit reminiscent of an ancient warrior garb of some kind. His curiosity quickly outweighed trepidation and he slowly made his way closer to it. He was always meeting strange creatures on his adventures, but this one seemed to be someone important and he couldn't help, but want to learn what he could about it. I mean he had to start somewhere, so why not with Skeletor. He didn't want to just walk up and pepper it with questions, assuming it even spoke English, but decided to stand near by and watch. Skelletor was sat across from a mostly ordinary looking man carrying a staff. He had apparently missed the last words that were exchanged, but they did not seem to be having a friendly conversation if the look on the man's face was any indicator. Scion quickly sits down at table just off from them so he can watch them comfortably. A waitress approached him and asked if he would like anything, deciding that it couldn't hurt to snack while he sat there. He wasn't sure what to get, but after the waitress informed him that they severed pretty much everything. He promptly requested a Mountain Dew and cheese burger, but wanted the meat in the burger to be a surprise. The drink was placed down near instantly and Scion gladly sipped at it as he observed his quarry. ->Alright Skeletor. Let's see what you're up to.<- he thought to himself as he sipped at his Mountain Dew.

The half dragon girl Evvie (appearing human besides wings, a tail, and small horns) excitedly watched the other people moving about the lobby, wondering how they would all stack up against her own abilities and if she could one day defeat every last one of them, or at least have many fun and exciting matches in the near future to test her mettle to the fullest extent. At the moment she didn't have any other motivation than this. If these people turned out to be weak, despite being a decent sized gathering from around the multiverse, then she'd be awfully disappointed...but hey, at least she had some free food on her plate and that was always a good thing even if the rest didn't pan out!

She was no match in the ways of eating in comparison to the other guy chomping down on some foreign food over there, but she was certainly more than a match for almost anyone else who shared her unfortunate trait of being limited to a non-bottomless stomach. If she could fit more food into her body then she would, but was limited by the fact that it had to go somewhere. For such a small girl of only 5 feet tall she managed to put away far more plates than anyone thought possible, pushing herself upon gathering inspiration from the other guy who may end up her mentor of eating, but in the end she could do no more and let out a contented sigh as she collapsed back into her chair.

"So...about that boxing match," a guy in a white tux and buzz cut said as he leaned forward, his elbows on the table.

"Did you see that! I almost won!" She exclaimed proudly, ignoring him. Barbeque sauce covered her lips and some splotches were also on her cheeks and hands.

"Yeah, that was...awesome. But anyways, I'm here to see if you would agree to that special event. The crowd would love to watch a hero such as yourself face off in a boxing ring against an actual boxer, seeing how your skills would compare when limited to such a setting. Of course you will also be asked to wear a special arm band that will reduce some of your physical prowess attained from your dragon side, but for one such as yourself you should still be quite capable even in a weakened state."

"Sounds fun! I'm in," she replied, pounding a fist into her palm. "Err...but I have stomachache..." she then complained, the consequences of her actions finally setting in.

"Don't worry, the match won't take place for a little bit so you have time to...recover. Just meet me again in the exercise room once the match is ready to get underway," the man said, scooting his chair back and leaving the room. He had already spent far too long watching her eat and needed to get some other stuff done now, being a busy man and all.

Evvie watched the skeleton for a moment, the same as everyone else, but she had fought plenty of skeletons before so lost interest sooner than most, instead turning to face a man with a bizarre watch who sat down next to her now that the spot had been vacated.

"Hi. I'm Evvie!" She said, extending her right hand for a friendly shake after wiping it clean on the tablecloth. She was far from shy.

********************

A girl who looked just like Evvie, only with red scales instead of green, drew a slightly confused glance from the receptionist, although the girl didn't notice because she was paying attention to the other fighters at the moment while the boring paperwork was getting filled out.

"Evvie? Alright..." she replied, typing it in. Two people named Evvie who looked practically the same, just with different hairstyles, outfits, and scale color. That was certainly something else. Being an intelligent woman she had her guesses, but it was not her place to start prying into people's personal lives...unprovoked, at least. "You're all set!" She said, flashing her a smile, completely covering up any expression that would reveal her thoughts.

Evvie nodded silently, or should I say Red, and began walking towards two individuals who happened to be nearby at the time; A man and a boy about her age. She sensed that they may provide some entertainment. Being a clone of Evvie, although not knowing it, thinking she was the original, she inherited a lot of her personality so also enjoyed picking fights. However, she did have some changes develop over time, just not in this regard.

"Hello, my name is Evvie. I'm new here and would like to try out a battle, if you don't mind," she said, revealing herself to be far more educated than the original. Perhaps a better term would be "programmed with more knowledge while in the test tube"...

Even while completely focused on his investigation into the supernatural qualities of the HQ conduit and its traits which he considered highly similar to the Nexus of Worlds, the Clockwork Man picked up on the hostility all around him. He would have been worried, considering the number and strength of those who were surrounding him, violence obviously on their minds, save for one small factor.

“Now, now, children, we haven’t forgotten the house rules have we?” The Clockwork Man said, not even turning to face the mob as he let his words sink in. Many around the hall would have forgotten what they were told earlier, but the rule was simple, no direct violence on anyone in the premises. Now, rules were meant to be broken, but the Clockwork Man figured that with the amount of power already manifested in this place, it was highly unlikely anyone here was capable of breaking them, even if they wanted to.

“You’re not going to challenge a man to a duel over a simple experiment surely?” He said, his voice grating, he holstered his pistol in one smooth motion and turned to face them, the telescopic eye on his obviously inhuman face extending slightly. “George Elmore at your service, inventor, scientist and engineer, devilishly handsome some have said as well, though I let one make their own minds up on that specific matter.” His voice barely betrayed the dark sarcasm in his voice as he regarded the assembled mob, noting the assortment of barbarians, vagabonds, warriors and flame wielding magi. “I’d thoroughly recommend you all return to your meals, you don’t want to be issuing challenges you’d soon regret.” He said, not at all boastfully, turning back to the window and resuming his close inspection.

The gunshot broke up the cacophony that was the cafeteria. A moment of stunned silence before rapid and quick action was taken as many people drew weapons or began exhibiting their powers to defend, attack or otherwise face whatever idiot had fire a weapon.

The conversation between the Dreamer and the man known as Worren had been cut short, of course by the discharged firearm. However it was what the person who fired it carried that was of interest to Skallagrim, after all it was his own device.

Rising and moving with swiftness that many would not have attributed to the skeletal being, Skallagrim stood next to the Clockwork being examining the energy traces to see where and when the Clockwork man had gone.

The energy flow from the device to the skeletal being was clearly visible as a faint amethyst glow. Those able to discern such things easily would detect the amount of data being transferred and as such a rate that easily terabytes of data every few seconds flowed into the Dreamer.

###

Outside in the pool bar, the sound of the gun shot echoed faintly. Even so the men and women outside drew up in protective cover. General Freedom stood, his hands glowing cobalt blue as he stared at the entry way. Next to him, JT was awash in a sticky gooey substance. Kolskegg held a handful of reddish runes and a mug of beer. Jake’s hands crackled with energy, General Freedom growled, “Alright boys, stay behind me until we can assess the situation. If it comes to a fight, focus on the biggest threat first.”

As a group they moved slowly towards the entrance, prepared to unleash what every fight they could against who knew what.

The gunshot brought him to his feet.

Cho grabbed Hek from his pile of gear and flicked off the safety. The daemon pistol immediately rumbled to life as its eyes rolled up and looked at him.

"Sire?"

"Gunshot. Expect trouble."

The rest of the guys were on their feet as well. They were all powered, as was his suspicions, but they were on the same side.

"Alright boys, stay behind me until we can assess the situation. If it comes to a fight, focus on the biggest threat first.”

Well.

Cho merely nodded his agreement as he took to the bigger man's right, his pistol aimed down towards the entry way. The General would see the shirtless Korean shadow soldier in his peripheral vision, gun at the ready, as the latter gave him a brief nod.