-removed-

One does not simply mock a demon. Indeed, she was holding her power back, only demonstrating her power and that she is not one to be messed with. However, her enhanced senses picked up two incoming objects, and quickly turned around to deflect the knives, surrendering them back to the ground below. She looks eye to eye with Alex as she prepares another strike, only to whip out 3 knives, all coming right towards her, two from above, and one right at her. With swift agility on her side, she dodges the knife and then the two others.

Now it was time for she to make her move. Lilith then fires more of her pink electricity directly at Alex, hoping to paralyze him

@The_written_John

Super Cosmos

Super Cosmos had a mission, but he had no information to go on. The monster would beam down from a location somewhere in space, perform game activities for an hour, then return to the ship. If only there were some way of finding where that terror-fying monster was wreaking havoc...

Cosmos' attention was drawn to a store he was passing. The flashing lights on the screens lining the store's windows displayed a school, then swept upward and zoomed forward to show Pterrordactyl standing on the roof. Others walking along the street around Cosmos also stopped to watch the broadcast.

"That's that monster!"

"What was he called?"

"Isn't that Bright Elementary School?"

"Not the culture festival!"

Cosmos turned to the two who had identified the school. "Where can I find this school? I have some... business to discuss with this Pterrordactyl fellow."

"You're braver than me, man... WHOA!" The bystander was shocked when he took in the sheer size of Cosmos towering above him. Cosmos, an alien, was built much taller and broader than even the biggest of Japanese, and thus cut an imposing figure. Once the shock subsided, Cosmos was given his directions, and he jumped into action - literally. He sprang up above the skyscrapers, landing atop one to gain his bearings before jumping once more, zooming toward the school.

---

Cosmos' landing left a small crater in the road, along with a fifty-foot-long gouge. Not that he cared; his planet, his rules. He looked around and gathered that he was about a block from the school he was aiming for. It seemed he still hadn't gotten the hang of this planet's atmosphere and gravity, but he had plenty of time to fix that. Just as soon as he got that Lord of Bloodsport to acknowledge his ownership, that was.

He took off at a run, as by his count there would only be a few minutes left in Pterrordactyl's game and Cosmos didn't want to go searching for the next clown to arrive. It had to be taken care of immediately. Cosmos blew through the gate, which stood open to allow the community to enjoy the festival, and skidded to a halt, taking in the chaos. Kids running from rats, stinking kids with browned pants, kids running out of the haunted house screaming about dead bodies.

Finally, Cosmos' eyes fell upon Pterrordactyl, who ran through the fray gleefully throwing rats to the kids while avoiding the parents' attempts to subdue him. Cosmos stepped into Pterrordactyl's path and, as he approached, opened his mouth to speak to his fellow alien.

"Can I have your autograph?"

A judge, curly wig and all, sat on a podium. He was a stereotypical Grey alien, clutching his gavel. He turned to the Jury, a spectrum of bizarre aliens that conferred before the judge brought the court to order. A cereal box with alien writing on it sat in the defendant's chair.

"In the case of The People vs. Crookleberries Cereal, how does the jury rule on the first count: containing all the vitamins and minerals necessary for a balanced breakfast?"

"The jury finds the defendant Guilty."

"And on the second count, containing nutritious whole-grains, four scoops of delicious Crookleberries, and a fun prize in every box?"

"Guilty."

"And on the third, and final, count, refusing to get soggy in milk?"

"Guilty, your honor."

"On all counts, the jury finds the defendant guilty. The sentence is death."

As the Judge brought down his gavel, there was a smash cut to the box of cereal in an old-fashioned electric chair. The security guards threw a switch, and a bright glow accompanied the sound of electricity as the camera panned to the judge, a priest, and a security guard enjoying a bowl of cereal. Another cut showed the cereal box, burnt and blackened, next to a tall glass of a flourescent green liquid and a bowl of reddish milk filled with flakes and sizeable dried berries. The judge turned to the camera.

"Crookleberries Cereal. So tasty, it's almost a crime."

The three shared a hearty laugh as they enjoyed their cereal.

Warning: on some planets, consumption of Crookleberries actually is a crime. Viewing this commercial waives any legal right to sue Badurong Agricultural or its affiliates for litigation resulting from illicit consumption of Crookleberries.

---

"IN DARK COLD OF SPACE, MANY GIVE UP HOPE OF JUSTICE! BUT WE AM BE FIGHT FOR YOU!"

A ten-foot-tall toad-like creature in a well-made suit sat in a study, the heads of various sentient aliens and a number of swords, axes, and pulse cannons mounted on the wall.

"HELLO! ME AM GRELTHAX, LAW-WARRIOR OF PLANET GROK. GROK PRACTICE TRIAL BY COMBAT, BUT JUST BECAUSE WE AM STRONG DOES NOT MEAN WE AM UNPREPARE TO FIGHT FOR YOU IN REGULAR TRIAL!"

With a large squelch, a pustule on the back of Grelthax's neck burst, and a palm-sized version stood shakily on his hand.

"GRELTHAX AND SPAWN AM PART OF RACE WITH GENETIC MEMORY. JUST AS GRELTHAX PASS BAR EXAM AND HAVE THIRTY YEAR AND COUNTING LEGAL EXPERIENCE, SO DO ASEXUALLY PRODUCED SPAWN OF GRELTHAX! WHEN GRELTHAX CREATE SPAWN, IT HAVE FULL EXTENT OF GRELTHAX'S LEGAL EXPERIENCE- READY TO WORK FOR YOU!"

"GRELTHAX AND SPAWN LAW FIRM! WE FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHT! CALL NOW!"

---

"Ve really messed up dis time, eh Loot?"

"Aye, Pillage. This be why ye should always correct yer calculations."

"Just imagine! Ve could have hit something that could actually hurt someone!"

The two hung by chains wrapped around their ankles over a vat of boiling oil. A Newdur, a faceless lump of flesh with lanky arms and legs, proceeded to press a button and watch. As the two were lowered into the deep fryer, a graphic for the Conquest Hour appeared, and the camera cut back to the studio.

---

"AAAAAAND WE'RE BACK! It looks like Pterrordactyl's been busy! These meters are just flying, but it looks like he's finishing up at the school! You just know he's got something in store if he's letting them calm down like this. For now, let's wait for him to come back!"

---

Pterrordactyl gave a satisfied sigh, kicking a cell phone out of a teacher's hands as he whistled, walking away the KO'd gym teacher and up to Yuki. He picked her up by her shirt and stared into her terror-filled eyes.

"A city full of heroes, Yuki! And none of them cared. Your police certainly didn't. And by the way, the stuff happening with your parents? It's your fault. See you later, little Yuki-chan."

With that, he threw the little girl into the fish tank, cackling as he took off and uttered a prehistoric shriek.

"PTEEEEEEERRRRRROOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRDAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCTTTTTTTTTTTTYYYYYYYYYYYYLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"

Afterward, he chuckled, smiling to the fellow alien, taking a picture of himself from his bag.

"Oh, sure, always nice to meet a fan. I'm in the middle of the game right now, but I'll be picking it up again later. Can I ask who I'm making this out to?"

Super Cosmos

"Oh, uh, the people here have taken to calling me Super Cosmos, so I guess that'll do... wait, what the heck am I saying?" Cosmos shook his head, taking a moment to let the glamor of the chaos around him fade. "I have business with this Lord of Bloodsport fellow, so, as these humans say, take me to your leader!"

Luda shook her head, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Time slowed down, and... A 'challenge' had been issued? And now the building was on fire and... Holy shit. Tough Love narrowed her eyes at Jack, wondering how this situation had escalated from dine-and-dashing to an arson-mass-murder combo. "Now you listen here, Prancing Ass, and you listen good. You say we need to stand on our lonesome? Well guess what, you shit-for-brains... You're in the building too." She upped with her foot, embedding it well into his gonads, then pulled her foot back down, causing his bruised nethers to emit a pleasant squelch/slurping noise. "Honestly, you didn't think this through at all, did you? If we win, you're stuck in here to burn and die like a moron. Moron." She spat at him. "And you, other dickweed, What the fuck did you THINK would happen when you broke a reality warper's arm?" She glared angrily, but decided not to give him a similar kick, considering he, despite his brutish methods, had been correct: This guy was a goddamn psychopath. "Honestly, if it wasn't for the threat of innocent death, I'd be out of her already, and you'd both be bathed in flame. But..."

She turned to Jack again. "What constitutes an innocent life? A bystander? A noncombatant? Because if it's a noncombatant... I think I'm about to claim an innocent life RIGHT NOW." and with that, she angrily lunged at the poor, dancing bastard.

"Finish the objective, the game will be done, the lives will be claimed by you. And then. They will escape, as will I. To somewhere far away, maybe Venice, I always liked the sound of Venice." Jack said grimly, all he wanted was an apple pie, but no, the city wouldn't allow for that. It was a strange city, Jack had enjoyed his time here. But it would probably be the time to move on, it was to crazy here for him.

Millenium Tower

Youma Saejima's face became deathly-pale when The Spandez Conquest Hour showed its public service announcement. The sight of the Tokyo Stock Exchange being obliterated from orbit ran through Saejima's mind like a warm knife through butter.

Saejima rose from his seat, eyes bulging like peeled grapes. Fumbling and shaking, he sprinted onto the karaoke stage.

The best way to describe Saejima's current look would be "fishy", in the sense that it was cold, clammy, and generally looked like someone who was in a constant state of absolute surprise.

"The stock exchange was blown up!" Saejima howled shrilly. "I-I want all of you to get the fuck down there! You're gonna help out as much as possible, and find a shitbag named Loot! I don't know how, I don't know why, but he's the one responsible!"

The assorted Youma thugs, stunned by what Saejima had just said, scrambled to get ready. Though most of them were still drunk, they were wholly prepared to assist in rebuilding and rescuing. Some members were shouting into their cellphones, calling in favors and fellow Yakuza clans. Others were dressing up, making themselves look presentable to the cameras.

Those who were in the latter group ambled up to Kenji, who still looked haggard and drunk. Swaying slightly, Kenji firmly gripped one of the group members by the shoulder, and nodded. And then the two of them were gone. Seconds later, Kenji reappeared and did the same to another member.

Neo-Tokyo Stock Exchange Ruins

As if by some strange magic, Yakuza members started appearing around the ruins of the stock exchange. They sprang into action, helping to lead survivors away and leaping into the ruins to search for people trapped under rubble.

The Yakuza may be criminals, but the operative word in "organized crime" is organized. The family comes first, but the community comes immediately afterward. And so, the Yakuza began their relief efforts.

Another two punches, interrupting Jack as he spoke. a couple of teeth dislodged themselves from his jaw.
"-Three. I'm a shit hero? Whoever said I was a hero?"
Souta kneed Jack in the small of his back, hard and painful.
"I'm just a regular guy, doing what anyone else would do."
Another punch, continuing to thoroughly pulp Jack's jaw. One more, and the manager switched hands.
"Five."

As Jack began to speak, the manager continued working on his face, this time pulping the left side. The overall effect was that Jack looked and sounded like he was drunk, or perhaps clinically retarded, as he slurred his words and uncontrollably drooled blood all over himself. It was extremely surprising, actually, that he had shown so little reaction to EVERYTHING so far. He hadn't even given so much as a squeal when his arm was fractured, and he seemed to be completely ignoring the fact that his jaw was being systematically destroyed by an angry middle-aged man.

"He whuh shahagesh sha janshing jack
Nee ony escha froo a bac
Shanin taa a in ur one'ome
Zish cha'enge wih oo obercub
Ja viccor clabe inshen rive
Ja roosher wih shtad owing ey ried."

"-Eleven. What is he even saying?"

Then the place burst into flames.

"Psychics.", Souta grumbled as Tough Love kicked Jack in the testes and shouted something over the inexplicable exploding gas cans, followed shortly by a sudden lunge at both Souta and Jack. All three tumbled backwards in a heap, Souta instinctively gripping down harder to keep a solid hold on his prisoner.

"WHY.", Souta shouted as all three collapsed onto the tiles.

Hachirou's eyes widened as he heard the news. Oh shit the Stock Exchange District! Favors needed to be collected, this was a travesty! He needed to act quickly, and get there as quickly as possible. He pulled out his cell-phone and quickly dialed up another, to call in more support.

"YOU SAW WHAT HAPPENED RIGHT!? Yes, get there as soon as possible! There's so much work to be done!" And with that he clicked the phone off. Hachirou adjusted the collar of his suit and swung his scarf back. This was vital, he had to look as fashionable as possible. As he was representing the family, and appearances mattered. Especially when such a tragic event occurred and people needed so much help.

The community needed to see that, no matter what happened, the Yakuza was ready to help the community with a calm and collected head. So Hachirou made his way to Kenji. After waiting his turn he was sent out to the site of the devastation.



Hachirou noticed one of his brothers searching through one of collapsed pieces of metal for any potential survivors. Hachirou was quick to rush to his aid. Delving his hands underneath, where he could get a grip he began pushing upwards. The other man began looking intently for any traces of someone being trapped underneath that piece. There was not, so Hachirou lowered it down.

The crater of molten metal was sickening, as it had brought so much pain to the community. "FOUND ONE!" came out a cry from a family member who was digging through chunks of stone. Hachirou quickly moved over there alongside a few other brothers as they began working in tangent to free the man from the rubble.

From the glimmers that were revealed through the cracks, the man was bloodied and bruised. Pieces of glass were sticking out from the man's cheek as he was trying to haggardly breath. Hachirou would not let this man die, and frantically dug with his brothers to get enough space for one to help pull him out.

As soon as the injured civilian was pulled out, he was given support by the Yakuza man who pulled him out. There was still some hope, but Hachirou knew he and the Family would need to be swift in freeing any others who were still trapped, for the good of the community.

"The hell is this shit?!" Steve yelled at his TV.

Upon first arriving in Neo-Tokyo, he'd managed to obtain a warehouse through a creative exchange of parts and services. The former owner's refrigerator now cooled to -20F, a truly legendary feat obtained only through use of an old soup can, a roll of paper and some duct tape. The warehouse was cold, a bit leaky, and had barely any living space, but it had enough room for two cars and all the tools Steve could store. It was shitty, but it was a good start.

He'd had zero luck tracking down some Pure American Muscle, though, and that annoyed him. One does not drive anything but a Dodge Charger when wanting to make an impression. The warehouse had come with an old beat up Toyota Sprinter in the shittiest white and black colour scheme, but it was falling to bits. A junker. Damn thing's engine didn't even start when the key was turned. Two weeks later, though, Steve had gotten it purring. It wasn't American and it looked like dirt, but it could pull sick drifts and that was what was important.

But I digress. In the cold warehouse with the solid floors and the ratty furniture, Steve was watching a pterodactyl man harass little children on an old CRT TV that smelled like smoke. I mean, of all the things to pick on, it had to be children. Where was the challenge? Children don't fight back! How lame!

And the ad breaks! Fuck! They were worse than the constant OHAI, SUROBEYU NING NONG TANGAYESHIMAAAAAAAAAAS that constantly flooded his small living space whenever Sensei Gattou Ranger Heart Love Seven was on break! Who the hell had hijacked his broadcasting?

Fuck this. Steve was mad. He threw a crinkled up can of PBR, Nectar of the Gods at the TV set and resolved to go down to the school and beat the shit out of this dick-ass pterodactyl, partially to let off some steam, and partially because ain't no one try and prove how mighty they are through children punting, yo! He threw Annabelle, his beloved pipe wrench slash warhammer into the passenger seat, followed up shorly by his toolbox. Then he hopped in the driver's side, turned the ignition, and listened with satisfaction as the engine roared like a much larger car. Putting in that PVC through the intake manifold had done wonders. The radio, crackly but functional, blasted out the glorious ZZ Top at a volume level some might consider offensive. But it was American, and that was what counted.

Steve rolled out of the garage, making sure to get out and lock up first, before violating every known road safety law in Japan and blasting on down the highway like a bat out of hell, the poor stricken Sprinter being flung sideways almost entirely on a whim. There was no such thing as 'too fast' in Steve's vocabulary. There was only 'Stop' and 'Balls To The Wall.'

"GIMME ALL YO' LOVIN', ALL YO' HUGS N' KISSES TOO!" Steve belted out as he tore down the highway like a car possessed, slewing between traffic. For some reason, he always used his indicators. Weird. Once off the highway and into the suburbs, though, he slowed down. He saw something strange.

"Th'fuck?" Steve said as he idled past a burning building. As a stranger in a strange land, he did what any American would do, deciding to enforce the true power of his American Heritage(TM) on these crazy foreign bastards who thought a restaurant would serve as an acceptable bonfire. He pulled over and pulled out the tiny, tiny device that served as a cellular telephone in this country. With difficulty, as the buttons were tiny, he typed in 911. No response. What the fuck? Then he remembered.

"Oh right, y'all jackasses are BACKWARDS!" he did declare as he typed in 119. This time, it rang, and before the person on the other end could speak, he was talking.

"Y'all mawfuggas git yo ass down to dat ol' Chuck-E Cheese on corner o' Nip Nong an' Ching Chong street. Shit's on fire, yo."

Thankfully, Steve wouldn't need to be translated from American to Japanese, or indeed provide any more information than there is in fact a fire. He noticed at least four other bystanders calling in the very same incident, probably with a lot more information than his limited language skills would permit. He ignored the yammering of Japanese in his ear and added a bit more pertinent information.

"An' y'all prob'ly wanna git yo police force down there 'cuz dat fire prob'ly started by some dumb mawfugga, y'dig?"

His job done, Steve hung up and drove sedately at breakneck pace towards the school. He had a pterodactyl motherfucker to beat up.

Taking an inkwell from his bag, Pterrordactyl dipped one of his talons in before making out the autograph.

To Super Cosmos: Always follow your dreams, and don't let anyone keep you down. -Pterrordactyl

"Oh, geez... I'm not actually sure I can get you an appointment with Mr. Spandez during the show, but... eeeeh, I can't say no to a fan! I can at least get you into the audience."

Holding out his hand to the alien with a smile, he hit the button on his locator device, phasing out of existence and into the decontamination room on the...

---

Pterrordactyl grumbled as the decontamination room started its work. Sure, it was understandable- he didn't want an advantage in a hypothetical challenge because of strange microbes that the native immune systems weren't prepared for- but that didn't make it pleasant. A few moments later, he was heading back to the stage, a few of the Unpaid Faceless Interns showing Super Cosmos to the audience, chanting "Newdur" as they went.

Spandez shook his head, shrugging with an understanding sigh. He looked over to two full meters, and the bonus meter.

"That's right folks, Pterrordactyl put on a good show, but he didn't get a lightning round before coming back. Anything to say to the folks at home?"

Pterrordactyl sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

"Well... sorry to my fans. I just couldn't quite get there this year. But tonight, I'm going to give you a show that'll more than make up for not getting the lightning round!"

Putting a hand around Pterrordactyl's shoulder, Spandez walked him to center stage.

"Well, Pterrordactyl, That's not quite true. I've got a surprise..."

The two screens on either side showed a feed from the hidden cameras, showing children STILL crying... and a few crying tears of relief now that Pterrordactyl was gone. The voluptuous humanoid wheeled out another meter, draping herself over it to show it was just barely ticking past a picture of a thumbs-up. The crowd roared in joy, holding up the "WE LOVE YOU PTERRORDACTYL" signs.

"Pterrordactyl, I'm pleased to say- with tears of fear, pain, sorrow, and now relief, you've made enough children cry... FOR YOUR VERY! FIRST! LIIIIIIIIGHTNIIIIIIING ROUND!"

Newdurs began backflipping onto the stage, forming a human pyramid... which was promptly shot by lightning, leaving a single Newdur to flex as the words "LIGHTNING ROUND" flashed on the screen in various languages. The curtain drew back, revealing a wall with three doors as Pterrordactyl looked around, tears of joy in his eyes. Spandez walked the pterosaur up to the doors.

"That's right! For the first time ever, Pterrordactyl's getting to see what's behind the doors! As always, there's going to be one of three things behind these doors. Our contestant picks one, and then we see what's behind another of the doors. He'll get the choice to switch to the other unopened door, or stick with his choice. Now, Pterrordactyl, which door do you pick?"

"I'm... I'm going to go with Door #3, Spandez!"

"You heard the man, he picked #3, so let's see what's behind door #1!"

Slowly, the door opened, revealing two strange, horned creatures with rectangular pupils.

"Oh, it's a two for one deal on terror! These little guys'll eat you out of house, home, and planet! That's right folks, it's our old standby the Thrallaxian World Eaters! These little monsters give new meaning to the word 'Omnivore,' able to digest literally anything. Pterrordactyl, that leaves you with two possibilities- goods that can help you win in the lightning round tonight, or a fabulous prize! You going to stick with Door #3?"

"Hm... no, no I think I'll switch! Door #2!"

"Alrighty then, boys! Door #3 has... A Badurong stationary set! This set comes with a pack old-fashioned reed-based paper, four custom-engraved fountain pens, and a desk made of wood from Melkion 3! Which means behind door #2 is..."

The final door swung open, revealing a box.

"Now remember folks, we don't know Pterrordactyl's strategy just yet. So we've given him a gift certificate that can be spent at various Badurong establishments to buy whatever he thinks he'll need to rack up even more tears tonight. Tune in later today to find out if Pterrordactyl's going to be able to win even more..."

"BIG MONEY! BIG PRIZES!"

"IIIIIIIIIIII LOVE IT! THIS IS THE SPANDEZ CONQUEST HOUR, AND I'M LOOKING FORWARD TO TONIGHT'S GAME AS MUCH AS YOU ARE! SEE YOU LATER, FOLKS!"

Waving to the crowd, Spandez headed backstage... where he was promptly beset by Newdurs and various aliens. Taking the thermos of coffee and downing it in one go, he shook his head. That PSA hadn't gone right. It was supposed to hit an unoccupied spot in the ocean. But the projectile hadn't been balanced right. He headed into his office, stretching and putting his feet up on the ottoman he kept under the desk. This was going to be a long day. He began going through the list of things he'd have to do today. Call up the locals to apologize and explain about the railgun misfire. Decide on which contestant would be sent down next. Figure out a more severe punishment than the comically oversized deep frier for Loot and Pillage.

Sometimes, it was hard being the Lord of Bloodsport.

Super Cosmos

Cosmos accepted the autograph with the hand that wasn't holding a miraculously unspilled alcoholic beverage and gave it a look. The inspiring message, combined with the inspiring person who wrote it, gave Cosmos warm fuzzies and elicited a warm smile from the star traveler.

"The audience should be enough. I'll work my way to him from there, I suppose. I appreciate y-" The rest of Cosmos' statement was cut off as the two were beamed onto the...

---

Cosmos hadn't used a decontamination room in many universal age units, instead using the heat generated by exiting and entering atmospheres in conjunction with the radiation and vacuum of space to cleanse himself of microbes. It didn't seem to bother him as much as it did Pterrordactyl - in fact, Cosmos considered it a novelty.

The Newdurs led Cosmos to the audience area once he was cleaned. He made his way to a fairly good seat that was miraculously vacant and turned his attention to the stage. Just moments after sitting down he learned why the seat was vacant: the alien next to him made a huffing sound, then spat radioactive goop on his arm. Though he was entirely unharmed by the action, Cosmos knew when he was unwelcome, so he brushed the slime off and moved to a less appealing seat.

---

"BIG MONEY! BIG PRIZES!" Cosmos roared with the crowd, caught in the excitement that flowed through the audience - or so he'd tell anyone who asked, though if he were honest he'd say that he was ecstatic that his favorite contender had finally earned his way into the Lightning Round. His inner fanboy was pleased, and he'd been there to witness it in person!

However, Cosmos still had business to attend to. He fought his way through the crowd, which was heading away from the stage while he intended to approach it. By the time he got past the crowd, Spandez had left the stage and headed back to his office. Not willing to give up easily, he caught a staff member's attention - by shouting as loudly as he could.

"Hey! I've got business with your boss - business of the highly important variety! I'm the rightful owner of the planet he's offering as a prize in this game!"

Sakura sprung from her plush and large bed, kicking her soft white blankets off she turned her legs to the side of the bed and placed her toes on the floor.

"Wuaaaa! Another day another crime!"

Standing up she stretched in her pink Onesy with white little rabbits. Quickly Sakura grabbed her school uniform and changed her clothes, Packing her bag she put her work uniform inside and grabbed her Uzi from the nightstand, turning on the safety she kissed the barrel and tucked it away with two magazines. Her Katana had been cleaned the night before so all she had to do was sling it across her back. A customary ring of her doorbell had Sakura cheery and giddy more than ever. Tying her eye patch on she ran out of her bed room and down the flight of stairs.

As always Yukoshi stood at her door, ringing more than needed. "Sakura'Chan your always late. " Yukoshi stated not agitated at all; In fact she liked the way things were with Sakura'Chan and wouldn't want to change them at all. The closed door opened showing Sakura slipping on her Uniform shoes. Her short black hair never looked dry or messy and complemented her red eye, Yukoshi never really knew what Sakura's other eye looked like. She rarely ever took her eye patch off and when she did; it was always closed shut. Her short and athletic frame held feminine curves to it, not as much as Yukoshi but still sculpted wonderfully. Yukoshi smiled at the bread crumbs her friend left sloppily on her face and shirt. "Your a mess. " she teased, picking and wiping the crumbs off and flinging some away.

"I didn't get to finish my math homework!...KoKo'chan can I borrow your notes!?" Yukoshi never did mind when Sakura called her KoKo'chan and sorta took a liking to it. Sakura pouted cutely as she closed and locked her Aunty's door. They began walking their usual way to school.

"Yea, did you think of a superhero name yet?" Yukoshi asked waiting for the amusing answer she'll get for sure.

"Y-Yea!!!" Sakura yelled, trying to hide the fact that she was lying.

Another student of her school had watched her descent from the rooftops. A strange, robotic entity was quite ready to neutralise her if the situation required it.

This was quite a new occurrence for Metallica Weapon.

>>Dealing with the forces of Cerebral Intelligentsia is tantamount. Whatever attentions may have now been focused on my person due to the events that have transpired are of little import to me. I must flush out the monstrous creature that likely roams the surrounding area before any harm occurs to the student populace. Whoever these others are, it is my wish that they do not interfere with my duty.

Her eyes flashed crimson, and the suited warrior ran, her powerful strides carrying her across the school grounds at a remarkable pace. She had no wish to answer to the hostile overtures of the robot in the skies, especially when they were definitely not a member of Cerebral Intelligentsia's evil forces. The design was too radically different, and it was far likelier that they were merely another of Neo-Tokyo's myriad heroes. But no matter what they fought for, Metallica Weapon sought nothing from them; rather, she was intent on defeating the threat to the safety of her school as soon as possible.

Halfway across the grounds now.

Her foe had yet to appear. Was it in the nearby area? She could not hear screams. Not yet.

And she was going to ensure she never would.

With the most fully sick E-brake park anyone in Neo-Tokyo had ever seen, Steve stopped the Sprinter in the middle of the school quadrangle. Screaming, crying children were present everywhere, with everything ranging from soiled pants to missing lunches. A whole bunch of mayhem going on. But something was missing. Something important. Something... scaly.

Where the fuck was pterodactyl man?

Oh no, Steven Diggs, The Machine Head would not be robbed of his fight. He leaned into the open window of the Sprinter and retrieved Annabelle, his metre-and-a-half giant pipe wrench, and bellowed out into the skies the traditional battle cry of his people.

"WHERE DA FUCK YOU AT, SCALE BOY? YOU GIT YO ASS BACK DOWN HERE SO I CAN BEAT THE SHIT OUTTA YOU, PUNK! I AIN'T GOIN' LET YOU GO SO EASY, Y'DIG?!"

Steven Diggs would not be denied.

"Lemme guess you didn't think of one yet? " Yukoshi softly tapped the back of Sakura's head with an open palm tilting it forward. "Come'on how are you planning on being a for real hero when you cant make a suit or create a name!?" Yukoshi scolded motherly.

Sakura pouted, twiddling her fingers. "You don't have to be so mean about it ya know!" Whether or not she acknowledged it Yukoshi was right.

While passing by a school for children Yukoshi tossed her hands behind her head and locked them, slightly revealing her slim tummy and belly button. Sakura yawned, more upset that high school had to ruin a good day to be heroic. They could both hear yelling in the distance and Yukoshi opted out of investigating; where as Sakura began walking in the direction of the commotion. Over the long and heartfelt screams she heard what sounded like a man yelling vulgar words.

"WHERE DA FUCK YOU AT, SCALE BOY? YOU GIT YO ASS BACK DOWN HERE SO I CAN BEAT THE SHIT OUTTA YOU, PUNK! I AIN'T GOIN' LET YOU GO SO EASY, Y'DIG?!"

Sakura felt like this was an opportunity of the sorts to save these distressed young children, so she took it. Yukoshi rolled her eyes, letting Sakura take the lead with this one; in Yukoshi's opinion this guy was more annoying then her nagging parents and louder than a fire trucks siren, judging from his boastful attitude Yukoshi didn't suspect the slightest of difficulty's if a fight between the three were to break out.

"SIR!" Sakura yelled pointing at the man. "I'M GOING TO ASK YOU ONCE, TO LEAVE THESE POOR CHILDREN ALONE!" Placing her hand inside her bag she slid a finger over her hidden gun inside. At this point in time she didn't care if this bazaar fellow had been looking for someone, or was lost and didn't know where to go, he was currently demolishing the peace for the innocent citizens.

"AY!" was Steve's cry of annoyance as someone Japanese was able to match him in the True American Loudness Department. He pivoted on his heel, hoisting Annabelle over his shoulder. A smaller man would have collapsed under the weight, but not Steve. He was truly a tank.

And who did he see? Oh, it was another Japanese girl, this one with an eyepatch and a hand in a handbag that had every American Hood Neural Impulse in Steve's head firing off and screaming 'GUN'. But man, this was Japan. Ain't no goddamn high school kids gonna be carrying guns around in a playground. That'd just be a recipe for disaster and a guaranteed slot on the midday news. And probably some cultural shaming or something. Steve didn't know. The only thing he knew is that it was Un-American and therefore to be ignored.

So rather than listen to the girl tell him oh so politely to quiet down, he decided to yell at her instead. Decades ago the Americans had showed the Japanese what-for, so there had to be some sort of cultural Japanese genetic memory thing going on when confronted with an American, right?

"Y'all go get me some PVC tubing, a bundle o' wires, three toilet lids an' a roll o' chicken wire! Then I'mma take down dat punk-ass bitch scaly mawfugga thought he could scare some kids, y'dig?!"

The battle against the two grotesque killers rages on for the next hour before the victor emerges from the ashes. A battered Lilith walks from the flames of a ruined building as her opponent lays sprawling on the floor in a bloody mess. Parasites were oozing from Alex's stomach, now with large gash wounds, his left arm severed by the demon's claws, and his face all wrinkly and scared due to the lightning that burnt his face. His sanity was also crippled by Lilith's Shadowy Reminder attack, revealing fears that even he as a psychopathic murderer stored away. Even Lilith suffered a few wounding scratches on her torso and a chip of her mask. As Alex tries to crawl away, the demon's high-heel-like foot, stomps on his back, penetrating through his back and spine. A scream of terror with blood drools from Alex's mouth as his vision begins to fade blank. As the demon stares into the man's soul, she lifts her hand up and with all of her might, she attempts to crush his face once and for all. But before she could do that...

She wakes up back into reality.

Lilith was sleeping in a back alley, highly secluded from any trouble or distractions that could prevent her from sleeping. The battle against Alexander was nothing more but a dream... a very REAL dream. She quietly gets up and looks at her surroundings, making sure that she was alone and in the real world, by touching the ground. Yup, she was in reality alright. Her four eyes blink as she then teleports to another unknown location...

---

Yet even Tomo's warning did not appear to stop the armored warrior who began to run at an incredible speed back on the ground. Who was this guy? What is he doing here? Tomo can only assume that it was caught in the middle of a crime and was running away from the authority.

"Hey!" he yells at to it, "Stop where you are!"

His thrusters give off as he flies off towards the person at roughly the same speed. Whoever this guy is, whatever it was doing, it will not get away from Tomo's sight!

Sakura and Yukoshi - School Quadrangle confrontation

Sakura, The Unruly Hero.

As the male with the weapon-tool resting on his shoulder turned to face both Sakura and Yukoshi , She gazed almost in awe at his tall and muscular body. Apparently he was taking her kindness for a weakness in which he would later regret; gripping her gun she quickly pulled it out letting the sun beams reflect blindingly off its chrome platted skin. She intended to bring the peace back to the children he so rudely frightened. 'Ok so maybe brining my gun out made things worse! but then again this guy could be frightened enough to flee.' Sakura thought going out on a whim was her only option. Tossing her schoolbag aside she slapped a new magazine in and it let off a clicking sound; hopefully she could use it.

The old playful Sakura now gone and replaced with a new more serious and deadly Sakura. Her red eye lowered its gaze on the male, studying his every move, watching his chest rise and lower in it's breathing pattern. She could feel her pointer finger twitch with anticipation. "I don't know what in the hell you just said….so I'll assume your not going to heed my warning?" Moving her left leg forward she stepped closer, tightening her grip on her Uzi.

_____________________________________

Yukoshi smiled at her companions change of aura so suddenly. Admittedly she enjoyed the more risky, kill crazed, dangerous Sakura better than the air headed one. Having fought with her on multiple occasions she knew full and well her true potential. She knew what Sakura planned on doing before she even thought of it; that's just how well she knew her every move and thought. 'Still she's not mad enough yet….' This one's not much trouble, Yukoshi thought while mean eyeing their competition.

"Lets cut his head clean off. " She suggested, trying to piss Sakura off enough to make the first move. But to no avail, Sakura continued to eye her prey and Yukoshi knew why; even if the ignorant man attacked first he just better be damn good at dodging bullets. "Sakura'Chan make his chest into swiss cheese! I wanna lop his head right off those broad shoulders! " Yukoshi licked her pink lips hungry at the thought.