A thick cloud of exotic incense and cigar smoke hung in the air of the stuffy office like a noncommittal fog in a rainstorm. Two figures, their features shrouded in smoke, sat languidly across from one another.

"I'm sure you know why I called you here, Mister Reynolds," said one of the figures, sounding very much like a man who understood the value of calories and, hence, decided to hoard as much of them as possible. The other figure, who evidently responded to the name of 'Mister Reynolds', tensed up.

"Yyyes, sir," said Mister Reynolds in a deep tone brimming with complex superiority. "The workers are almost finished with the... studio. I must say that our practical effects team have put everything into this. However, I do have some questions."

Mister Reynolds hesitated.

"A-about the, uh... the monster. Are you sure you don't want us to use an animatronic instead? If something goes wrong, we may not be able to--"
"Everything will be fine. The Vohaul Entertainment Security Firm is notorious for their effectiveness. If anything goes wrong, it will be dealt with in short order."

"It's far too late to worry about safety features. This is what you wanted, isn't it? The ultimate horror experience? Real actors and real monsters? We've gone through a lot of effort to bring you your dream, and we're not going to waste it!"

Mister Reynolds gritted his teeth. Was kidnapping people from across the multiverse really necessary? He had taken a look at those who would play the part of the 'actors', and they were... they were so dangerous-looking! The other figure drew immense satisfaction from seeing his colleague distressed, and grinned widely.

"Unless you have any more problems, I think we're done here. Don't let me keep you."

---

In retrospect, it was probably for the best that the Vohaul Entertainment Security Firm had started by sending dozens of attack drones down. Not only had it greatly reduced the local population, but the scorch marks and piles of ash did wonders for boosting the atmosphere they were going for.

All that remained on Carnate now was the immense, decrepit prison that had accounted for so much of the island's storied past. That, and the 'actors'. Personally selected from any number of multiversal hubs exclusively for their appearance and mannerisms, these 'actors' were being carefully followed and observed by cloaked floating cameras. Against their will, they would now become the stars of Vohaul Entertainment's latest in 'unique' horror films: "The Carnate Prison Experiment".

As the impromptu stars of this true horror show gradually began to wake up across the prison, another secret observer began to act. As luck would have it, the universe The Carnate Prison Experiment was being "filmed" in was one of the many universes under the Dunkelzahn Institute's watchful eye. Far above the planet's surface, a lone Institute ship sent a distress signal out to The Mother Ship and any multiversal hub that would accept it. Attached was a simple set of coordinates and a promise for compensation.

Trunks breathed a sigh of anticipation. This was going to be his first job for the Dunkelzahn institute. If ever there was a time to prove himself to his superiors, now was the time. He closed his equipment into large cases, except for his sword. His sword he left sheathed on his back. With a click of a button, each of the cases condensed into tiny capsules, which he stored in his Capsule Corp jacket. While the technology used by the institute exceeded his own by leaps and bounds, Capsule Corp tech still had its uses.

Trunks readied his stepper box, and looked over the distress signal. It was notably ambiguous, and that put Trunks on edge. The last time he had to address a mysterious threat, it had turned out to be an entity designed to be the perfect warrior, destroy all life on earth, and was stronger then his worst enemies. Still, Trunks was stronger then ever before, and could easily rival Cell's power on his own.

Trunks took another deep breath. Stalling while reminiscing about his past would do no one any good. He double checked the capsules in his jacket, and prepared himself. It was time to show the multiverse his strength; the strength of his home, and the strength of the Saiyan race. He engaged his stepper box, and warped to the ship emitting the distress signal.

The sounds of high heels clacked against a metal floorboard as Koizumi Mizuki paced through a narrow hallway aboard the Mother Ship. After a few steps she paused in her stride and loosened the grip she had on her legal binder nestled in her left hand. Stretching out her left arm, Mizuki moved the binder in front of her and opened it to the front-most page. She peered intently at the documents which concerned her analyzations with Sector 930/33100, World 0405-H.

As per her observations, they were still not yet ready to be allowed into the multiverse proper, under the Institute's banner of course. Though the real matter would come when Mizuki would report the findings at quickly upcoming meeting. And then after presenting, hearing whether or not the Institute had continued in that world, or if they would reassign her somewhere else. As such, she knew she would have to put her best foot forward while presenting this information.

With this in mind, Koizumi quickly shut the binder and kept it clutched against herself once more, as she headed to the bathroom to freshen up. And so quickly she entered the nearest latrine and placed down her purse and binder upon the bathroom sink counter. Unzipping her purse with a smile, Mizuki began digging around searching for her make-up. However while she was doing that, by mistake she picked up her phone which was vibrating.

Quickly she pulled it out and noticed the most recent, of countless, messages. It was a bulletin noting a recent emergency distress mentioning a pair of co-ordinarants and mention of pay. Well this was an unfortunate set of circumstances!

Mizuki wracked her brain pondering on exactly who, in the Institute, had jurisdiction there. But for the life of her she couldn't recall. Returning the phone into her purse, and placing the binder in it as well, Koizumi slung it back over her right shoulder as she exited the bathroom.

Carefully striding through the hall, Mizuki headed towards the nearest transporter hub, that wasn't being used of course, and tapped in the location acquired from the phone. And so in a flashy beam of light, she was heading towards the location marked out.

Hopefully this would be a big enough deal that she wouldn't be scolded for attending the meeting late.

Consciousness eased its way back to Aoi's mind as she woke within the prison. Annoyance spread through her as the discomfort caused by her unnatural position set in. Her face was smashed into the corner of the room where the floor met the wall, and her body was crumpled up behind her, as though she'd been thrown carelessly into the room. However, the pose was sure to please the audience, as it showed off her curves quite well.

Aoi made an attempt to roll over, only to find that her hands were cuffed behind her back. Her God Arc was bound into her grasp, preventing her from rolling out of position. If I can't go one way, I'll go the other, concluded Aoi. She gave her Arc a squeeze and it sprang to life, pieces exploding out from it to reconfigure it into rifle mode. The force of the pieces hitting the floor forced the God Arc into the air, turning Aoi onto her side with it.

Finally able to see beyond a small patch of grey flooring, Aoi was suddenly aware that she had no idea where she was nor how she'd gotten there. The room contained the amenities of a warden's office, but with much fewer personal effects than one would expect. The walls and the top of the desk stood bare, the chairs were without cushion, and there was little other furniture to speak of. This kind of setting wasn't uncommon in Aoi's universe, so she felt right at home.

On the floor beside where her God Arc had sat were a bloody arm and leg with ragged wounds, both human and both seemingly from the same person. The satisfied feeling that emanated from Aoi's God Arc told her that someone had touched it while she was knocked out and had learned the hard way why one shouldn't touch a God Arc that is not their own. Aoi was a bit puzzled by this, though; shouldn't everyone know this extremely basic fact?

However, there were things to attend to. She needed to be free of her shackles, and her position didn't allow her enough leverage to break free with brute strength. That left using her rifle, and she had just the thing for the job. Aoi twisted a part of the handle to change bullet types to a weakly explosive mortar round she'd made for training with gravity-affected shots. She pulled the trigger, and...

PEW!

A blazing red laser-type bullet shot upwards, crashing through the ceiling and continuing out of the building before dispersing three football fields above. Missed it by that much. Aoi adjusted the knob one click back and fired again, this time managing to free herself from her shackles.

Aoi found her bag at her feet, still stuffed with O-Ampules. She began to reach for one to replenish her ammo, then thought better of it and slung the bag over her shoulder. Instead, she eyed the two perfectly good sources of energy on the floor. There was no sense in wasting an item in limited supply when there was a viable alternative right there, waiting to be used, after all.

The door to the office swung open, letting Aoi step into the hallway. Through the door, the camera could see that there was now a crater in the floor where the arm and leg had been and that the desk was now in pieces. Aoi's Arc was quite the messy eater.

"I wonder if I'll find anyone else here?"

"You know, I've found that the cardinal sin of horror movies is they tip their hands too early and show you the whole monster. Oh, uh, but you didn't call us for writing advice."

The giant bipedal capybara at the door bowed, holding out a business card for Mr. Reynolds and his Associate. He had a briefcase under his shoulder.

"Hello there, my name is Barapy! I'm with Shocker+, the company you contracted for additional monsters. While our negotiations for providing your monsters haven't quite been finalized, I've gone ahead and included the latest printing of the Monsters Monthly, Shocker+'s catalog publication, for no charge. I've also taken the liberty of bringing profiles for some of our monsters which might be particularly well-suited to your horror movie."

With that, Barapy gave the employee file and bowed once again.

"Please, take your time looking them over!"

Trunks took a few moments to get his bearings. His old time machine had a self contained pilot capsule, so he hadn't been exposed to the elements of dimensional travel much. Stepper boxes still disoriented him a bit, but he imagined it wouldn't take long to acclimate. When he refocused, he had a look around. The spacious rooms of the Mother Ship had been replaced with the slightly more austere interior of a scout frigate. Electing to look around, but not go to far, Trunks decided to have a look around the ship.

Trunks didn't have to go far to find a window. It looked out over the planet they were orbiting. From his first look, it appeared the planet was an alternate Earth. At least there would be some levels of familiarity to his first mission. On a whim, Trunks closed his eyes and focused his Ki senses. After a first sweep, it seemed to be fairly average. That is, until he felt something odd. Although they weren't yet active, and still hard to trace, several high powered beings seemed to be in relatively close proximity to each other planet-side. Concerning, especially since Trunks couldn't tell just how strong they were.

Whatever was happening, he needed more information before he could act. He knew from experience that events like these needed absolute precision. He hadn't even left to warn the hero's of his universe all those years ago until he was certain he would appear precisely in time to defeat Freeza upon his arrival to Earth. Besides that, he didn't like testing his resolve on this operation alone. He decided it would be best to wait for more agents to arrive.

Goris walked through the metallic corridor of The Mothership at a turtle's pace, he had nowhere to go he just liked to walk through this gigantic ship's Halls and he did this every-time he wasn't tagging along on missions.

the metallic walls brought him comfort for they reminded him of Vault 13, of his home, so much so in fact that he would sometimes expect to see one of his many brothers to walk right past him.

but of course they never did Goris let out a sad sigh at the thought of home, when he first arrived they tried to find his universe but the stepper box was broken beyond repair (as in it blew up) so it was impossible to trace the data back to his previous location. Not to say they didn't try but in the end it was futile and they eventually admitted defeat and informed Goris of their failure. Goris took it a lot better then anyone would have expected he accepted it and he sort of knew that wouldn't be able to him back.

so when the news came he took them with dignity.
Goris as thought about his past he noticed that Mizuki was heading towards the transporter hub "Hmm?" Goris's curiosity was peaked, he knew that she was supposed to be heading towards a meeting, so why was she heading towards the transporter hub? that what he intending on finding out so Goris proceeded to follow the sailor scout into the hub and he entered just as she teleported away, so he quickly shielded his eyes from the Flash.

he let his arms drop when felt it was safe for him to open his eyes. 'Now where could she have gone of to?' Goris thought as he stepped onto the transporter pad, he began looking through the machines's stored archives of recent transports it didn't take him long finding Mizuki destination.

"Hmm it seems she was following a distress beacon it would be for the best if followed" Goris quickly input Mizuki's location and activated the transporter then with a quick flash he was gone

This was getting rather boring. Which was quite something for a man in this situation. Any man in this situation, let alone one like Rugal.

One would think he'd be right at home doing this. He had been ordered by his TEMPORARY superiors (that he was, of course, playing for fools, because to do otherwise would just be stupid) to just sit around doing nothing. In the middle of this deserted cafeteria that had been converted into a throne room-slash-fighting arena of sorts.

He sat at a chair which seemed to resemble a very expensive desk chair, taken from elsewhere on the site, with his usual slouch of confidence, though it was edging into a slouch of boredom, the way he was resting his head on his fist. He quite frequently found himself reaching down to pet his Panther, Rodem, only to remember that Rodem wasn't there. Whatever happened to Rodem, anyway? They better not have put him in a zoo, he thought. They would pay with their lives if they put him in a zoo.

This wasn't to say he had no pets. Just ahead of him were a pair of strange worm-colony creatures packed into vaguely humanoid armour and toting large, glowing cannons. Earlier, he had tried to get these creatures to shoot something, if only so he could gauge what kind of weapon it was and how valuable they might be, but they didn't listen. The fools. This was precisely why he preferred fighting solo; so he wouldn't have to put up with temperamental and unstable and betrayal-happy henchmen. Just like those two dirty secretaries he had hired. The thought of them made him grip the side of his seat in irritation.

@Sodium

Thankfully, however, this was soon broken very suddenly. The faint but distinct muffled sound of an explosion went off... somewhere else in the facility. The noise made Rugal sit up in his seat, and the two worm creatures started stirring. They started communicating with each other, in some low-pitched garbled 'language'.

Rugal was about to sit up and demand that they both investigate at once, but then he remembered two things: one, the book he'd been reading told him that backup is a valuable thing, even when you're as capable a man as he. Two, there were multiple cameras lining the room, giving the audience a good view of the eeeeeevil level boss sitting and plotting on his throne, flanked by eeeeevil alien bodyguards. It wouldn't look good if any of them left. It would ruin the atmosphere.

He sat back and smirked to himself. He had this all figured out.

The Institute scout-class frigate was a fine vessel loaded with rather impressive multispectral emitters, scanners and communicational beacons. The multispectral emitters easily and quickly produced holographic skins that carefully blended the ship in to mimic its surroundings and fool sophisticated radars. This gave the vessel that well honed covert touch the Dunkelzahn Institute was known for, while allowing the ship to gather the basics at a safe distance.

The gravitational constant of the planet, average orbital speed, the inclination of the planet, atmosphere composition, the coordinates of the planet's perihelion and aphelion and general essentials were watched closely so the Institute knew what they were working with. And Mizuki would need to make sure to get the most essentials of these, before launching down to the planet. After all, such information would be vital in carefully solving the problem in a secretive as possible manner.

The teleportation transported Mizuki into the steerage, which hosted the teleported. Mizuki took a quick step off of the platform as she peered around, noticing a distinct lack of engineers, or really anyone around the device. Tilting her head Mizuki started to mumble out, "Maybe they are focused with the beacon.."

She shook her head as she strode out of the room, not knowing that the machine would be used yet again by one of her colleagues.

Exiting the steerage, Mizuki turned her head from side to side and noticed an individual next to a porthole. Approaching Trunks, Mizuki gave a quick bow, before a quick greeting.

"Koizumi Mizuki." She stated as she beamed a smile towards Trunks, "What is the nature of the distress call you sent out? Field Agent stranded? Early multiversal knowledge leak? Engine or camoflauge malfunction? Unlicensed Interstellar Bypass construction?"

"Lemme out, you freaks!"

From the camera angle in the hallway, the janitor's closet to the far left gave a shudder as something bore into it, but it didn't budge. The metal bolts against the frame made sure of that. Then there was another audible thump, something landing bodily against a wall or the floor; another high-pitched screech and a shudder, and the camera location changed.

Everything inside the small, enclosed space was hued in blacks and greens, with Vohaul Entertainment's newest court jester sprawled on the floor.

The teenager groaned. Everything smelled like antiseptic in here and for lack of better term, it was freaking him out. His head was still throbbing with whatever they'd taken him down with, and apparently whoever kidnapped him hadn't done their research well; Todd was allergic to most chemical bases. Wasn't gonna be much of an entertaining lay if he was dead and peely, was he?

Of course, his abductor probably wasn't interested in that (or at least, yeesh, he hoped not). More than likely, he'd been captured by some anti-mutant fanatics, or maybe wherever he'd stepped into last had something against any homo sapiens. Either way, the scent in the tiny, claustrophobic closet smelled like Lysol and impending doom and a very woozy and blinded Todd wanted out.

He rolled into a crouch gracefully, propelled himself against the door with enough force to dent steel. The rebound sent him against the Metal Shelf of Things That Could Burn His Face Off and Todd flinched, waiting for everything to come spilling down. He was lucky this time, only knocking over a glass or two, and in the dark he could still see that they'd rolled off harmlessly to rest against the restraints he'd weaseled out of earlier.

He gagged at the burny, offending objects in horror and tried again. "Yo, let me out! I can't stay in here, it reeks!"

One more ram convinced the metal bolts, which had bending against the force of Todd's powerful legs rather than the weight of his body, and the kid went flailing into the hallway.

@Sodium, @HHShetland

Now well and truly lost within the corridors of the prison, Aoi had about as much chance of finding her way back to the office she'd awoken in as she had of finding an exit. She'd run past the cafeteria's doors twice, not once so much as glancing in, and had come to the conclusion that the prison was, in fact, a labyrinth. Back home she'd found herself in many such places, as post-apocalyptic office buildings weren't very easy to navigate.

As she prepared to execute her tried and tested method of escape - cutting through walls until she was freed - there came a clanging from down the hallway. She hefted her God Arc into position for a clean swing, then began to approach the source of the noise cautiously.

Before she'd made it halfway down the hall, the door from which the sound emanated crashed open, unceremoniously releasing a teen from within. As the boy flailed around for balance, Aoi confirmed that he was, in fact, human. He smelled human enough, though he was quite a bit greasier than any she'd smelled before. He looked a bit different from the humans she'd seen as well, but as he was the right size and general shape, she was convinced he was human.

Aoi lowered her God Arc and finally approached the boy openly. "So, uh, any idea where we are?"
@Rick Sanchez

'Prepare to phase two,' those words kicked around in Agent Leadtrim head as he worked on his retroblade. The Mechari was shaken from his thoughts by his communicator began to ring. Leadtrim double checked his connection to make sure that no one could listen in on his call. After confirming the line was secure he checked who was calling him the, it informed him that the transmission was coming from DRED. "Agent Leadtrim reporting," he said into deceive. "Mondo command you follow orders," the Chua scientist said to him. "There is island with tons of monsters on there Mondo wants creatures samples. GO GET THEM!" with that the line went dead. Leadtrim knowing better than to argue with the chua gathered his gear for the mission and went to the transport pad. Locating the right one he stepped onto the pad in blinding light was teleported onto the ship. Exiting the room he notice his two colleges from the institute. "Agent Leadtrim reporting. What is the nature of your distress call," he said walking up to the two of them.

@Sodium@Rick Sanchez

Rugal and his two pet alien worm things found themselves surprised yet again minutes later, when some little girl with an enormous... something-or-other started dashing past the door into the cafeteria. She didn't even look inside. No appreciation for proper suspense-building, obviously. But then something else occurred to him.

Rugal sat forward, to the point of being hunched over, and started brushing his moustache in thought. Had there been some kind of mistake? He was supposed to be a high-level final opponent for the contestants in this show... whoever they were. He'd barely been there for an hour and already someone was outside his room. Someone stupid, that much was certain, but still. They might have been one of the other so-called 'undesirables' from the prison... after all, with the kind of power displayed by that Yuri Sakazaki girl, he'd learned that appearances can be deceiving.

It seemed as though the two alien beasts had made up their mind much sooner; after the second time the girl zoomed past, the monsters almost immediately set about lumbering over to the door in pursuit. Rugal was observant enough to stand to his feet the moment he saw them get close.

"What do you think you are doing? You get back here right now!" He blurted at them in his vaguely germanic-but-not-quite accent. The creatures could only respond by gurgling some more and shaking their... 'heads'. Rugal clenched his fists in outrage. The old him would probably already be over there, squeezing the worms out of their armour like a tin of spinach for blatantly disregarding his orders.

"Is it really necessary to have your bathroom buddy go with you? Wouldn't one investigator suffice? ...No?" He asked them, getting no response. This was really quite infuriating.

"Well, then... hmm, wait a minute..." He was about to point at them and insult them, something along the lines of having no central nervous system, but he stopped mid-point to think of something else.

From what he'd seen of this prison, the corridors were extremely narrow. If these beasts could fit inside, one of them could approach while the other cuts off their escape. They'd have nowhere to run. Of course, Rugal would see to it that this girl, whoever she was, would get dragged back into the cafeteria throne room to be duly punished on live TV for ruining the show's dramatic arrangement. He could probably throw in some kind of metafictional joke while he was at it.

"You're smarter than you look." He said to the monsters, finally getting up off his seat to clack his shoes down to the door, allowing the creatures to take point. "...Which is by no means a hard feat to accomplish, ha ha!" He added, always the person accidentally laugh in a less-than-appealing manner. The creatures just gave him a weird look and started to lumber into the halls.

It didn't take long before Trunks sensed someone approach. Whoever it was clearly felt powerful, but was hiding it somehow. He turned to see a woman named Koizumi Mizuki introduce herself and ask what was going on. It took Trunks a few seconds to catch on that she seemed to think he was normally stationed here. "Oh, I'm not actually stationed here. I was responding to the distress call as well. My name's Trunks. This is my first real mission with the Institute, so I was waiting a bit to see if anyone else was going to show up as well."

Trunks quickly looked Mizuki over. He hadn't expected an agent that would respond to this type of distress beacon to be wearing a business suit. To be fair, though, there was still a lot he had to learn about the multiverse. At the very least this mission would allow him to judge his own power compared to the other major players of this society.

Trunks didn't notice the second figure approach, although we he saw him it was immediately apparent why. The sleekly designed robot that introduced itself as "Agent Leadtrim" only caught Trunks's attention when it spoke up. The faint smile on Trunks's face quickly faded. As much as he wished his past was behind him, his conflict with the androids had left a mental mark on him. As much as Trunks wanted to give this fellow agent a chance, he couldn't help but feel on edge. "Not sure yet," Trunks responded. "We just got here ourselves, though I do have a guess."

Trunks looked back out of the porthole. "I was trying to sense the energy of the planet before you all arrived. I think I found the problem, although I could be wrong. I can feel several strong beings that are really close to each other. Normally, that would be bad enough, but the fact that I can sense them up here probably means trouble. It's a guess at this point, but I think there are other people from the multiverse interfering down there."

Mister Reynolds and his boss were quite surprised to hear Barapy's voice. The lights went on, and both Reynolds and his boss were revealed in all their glory.

Mister Reynolds, for his part, was wearing a well-cut business suit. It did a satisfactory job of luring the eye away from his grotesque face and antenna. His boss, however, spared nothing for his audience. Bloated, pale, and heavily augmented, Sludge Vohaul had made no attempts to disguise himself after forming the Vohaul Entertainment Conglomerate. Vohaul's already-furrowed brow dug into his eye sockets even more, and the stench of bilious chemicals began to waft through the room.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, BARGING INTO MY OFFICE?!" Vohaul bellowed, slamming a meaty fist into his desk. "OUT! OOOUT!"

As Vohaul threw a fit of spectacular proportions, Mister Reynolds sheepishly led Barapy by the shoulder out of the office. Mister Reynolds, humoring Barapy, took the brochure from his paws.

"I'm sorry, Mister Vohaul isn't in the mood for walk-ins," Reynolds said, matter-of-factly. "As for the matter of, ah... additional monsters, I feel we will no longer need your organization's services. We have obtained a fair number of promising-looking individuals, who should be paying for themselves soon enough."

Mister Reynolds chuckled lightly, turned on his heel, and was stopped in his tracks by a nervous-looking intern wearing a sickly-orange jumpsuit.
"Sir, we've got our first encounter between the 'actors'," said the intern, handing Mister Reynolds a tablet. "but it's-- uh, it's not quite what you've expected."

As Mister Reynolds watched the processions unfold, his heart sank.
"Aliens and superheroes? In a prison horror movie? I specifically asked for normal people and scary monsters!"
"Find me some good monsters, he screamed, thrusting the tablet back into the intern's hands. "Now!"

Shaking with weary indignation, Mister Reynolds skimmed the brochure Barapy had given him. The colorful characters available would certainly fit what Reynolds needed, at least in spirit.

Mister Reynolds clasped his hands together supplicatingly, and bowed his head at Barapy.
"Please excuse my earlier outburst, Mister Barapy-- I am interested in hiring your services, after all! Yyyes, I would like to hire each of the... items in this brochure. Please send them to the location we agreed upon earlier as soon as possible-- I'll let you hash out a proper entrance and plot with the on-site staff."

---

The fantastic conflict in the penitentiary was but one of the events lined up tonight. As the attack drones released several hours prior did their dark work, the barrier between worlds grew thinner and thinner. Already, gruesome echoes of long-dead inmates and guards and the monstrous fates they suffered spilled out into the waking world. At the old rock quarry, where prisoners used to work their sentences off, the ground rumbled ominously. Large shapes blindly wormed their way through the rock and soil, bound in chains and rags.

It is said that those who refuse to learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.

Sometimes, the past comes back on its own.

Koizumi craned her head slightly to the side as Leadtrim arrived. She quickly turned it back towards Trunks as he gave an explanation of what he knew. While it was a bit more than what she knew it was still just barely beyond what was explained in the distress call. She pushed up against the right edge of her glasses as she frowned a bit.

"High energy, close together..." Mizuki tilted her head, "That, that doesn't seem right. Certainly can't be ours, beacon wouldn't be called." And then a thought dawned upon her as she wrapped her arms around her torso. Gripping her hand tight around her left upper-arm, the woman grimaced. "Those buffoons. They must be trying weasel control of the planet away from us."

Great. The Order and the Millieu were plotting to cause ruckus there weren't they. But did they have any other motivations besides the obvious of screwing over the Institute of territory? Mizuki smiled at Trunks, "Saaaay did you get an exact location of where that energy was? Gotta go in and solve it quick and clean, and hopefully without any planetary inhabitants catching onto it."

Tolensky fell, of course, with all the grace of a gazelle in roller skates. He took the landing on his face like a champ and quickly rolled to get his bearings--the sudden light blinded him, so he failed at that. Rubbing his eyes with the backs of his palms, the boy leaned into a low crouch.

"So, uh, any idea where we are?"

He didn't shriek at the surprise question from an unknown source, to his credit. Todd just flinched and glared at the blurry figure until his eyes adjusted to the cheap, fluorescent lighting and she came into view--terrible, kind of cool hunk of metal and all, which screamed threatening even while her stance suggested friendly conversation. She was older then he was, most likely, fairly pretty and close to his type--the black clothes could be blacker to contrast the blue, and silver hair wasn't his thing after so many months of Pietro fussing over his own. Whatever. He was a little too freaked out to flirt, anyways.

He put his palms on his knees and rose, cautiously, until he was in a high-enough stance to jump if need be. He thought he heard more footsteps--louder ones--down some far-off corridor, but ignored it for sake of answering questions and asking his own. Immediate danger took priority, even if cute and not necessarily looking for a fight.

"Man, how should I know?" His voice was a little uneven and he eyed her weapon warily, wondering what it even did. He hadn't seen tech like that before. "They put me in a closet, foo'. And who the heck are you? And what is that?"

@Sodium @HHShetland

Aoi watched the boy's antics patiently. He'd just hit his head, after all, so he must've been confused. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like the confusion was abating, as the boy didn't seem to remember where they were. Aoi's disappointment resounded louder than the footsteps of the wormliens making their way down the hall toward the pair.

"A closet? There's a joke about closets..." Aoi's brow furrowed as she sought the combination of words that made people laugh about closets. She'd heard it more than once, she was certain, but the information just wouldn't come to her easily. "Hmm... You really exited the closet! Haha! I'm Aoi Kasakawa, a God Eater, and this here is my God Arc, of course!" Aoi playfully flicked the blade around a bit in an attempt at a flourish, but merely succeeded in cutting gashes into the walls of the hallway.

"So, what am I supposed to call you, and shall we be getting out of here?"

Having done a spectacular job of playing dead for quite some time, it seemed Ranald's body wanted to shake things up a bit. Namely, it wanted him to wake up, preferably now. When Ranald did so, he opened his eyes, whereupon he bore witness to absolutely nothing. Or, to put it another way, complete and utter blackness, as far as his eyes couldn't see.

Am I dead? The PR fluid didn't go off, and the last shot I remember hitting the AT grazed the head, so what got me?

As his train of thought ground to a halt, Ranald finally noticed a key indicator that he was alive: his heartbeat. While he was still curious as to how he survived, that matter could wait. For now, he'd focus on getting his bearings. Thankfully, his inability to see was not due to blindness, but rather a complete absence of proper lighting in the room he was in.

Once his eyes adjusted, Ranald was able to make out his general surroundings. He was outside his AT, still in his suit, lying face up in a sparsely furnished prison cell. Mr. Colbert's arms were bound, and his gun was missing. Nobody else seemed to be around, but Ranald could just barely make out the sound of something in the distance. Might be the wind, faulty piping, or if I'm lucky, someone else. I should investigate.

However, the moment he moved to rise, a piercing pain in his head sent him right back down. It seemed he didn't escape that last battle entirely unscathed. Taking it much more slowly, Ranald eventually drew himself into a sitting position, followed by the soldier shakily rising to his feet. Once he'd steadied himself, Mr. Colbert walked up to the cell door, and gave it a tentative nudge. Bizarrely, it was unlocked, allowing him to make a fairly swift exit. For a supposed prison, the security was awfully sloppy, suspiciously so. Sure, the place was abandoned, but someone had to have brought him here. With any luck, investigating the noises he'd heard would lead to whomever was responsible.

Thus, Ranald set out towards the source of the racket.

@Sodium@Rick Sanchez

Because he had been making a point of trying to sneak up on the mysterious intruder, Rugal decided to tread somewhat lighter on the hard, dusty floor of the prison, so as to avoid making loud clacking noises with his shoes. Unfortunately, however, the same could not be said of the two worm creatures, who chose to lumber about quite loudly; which was strange, since they had obviously had the same 'encirclement' idea that he had.

One of them went off down the hall to the right, while the other went off to the left and quite loudly made its own path through a wall into an old cell block. On the one hand, this enabled the creature to cut off another hallway that the intruder could otherwise escape through, but on the other hand, not stealthy in the slightest.

"Yes, that is indeed very stealthy of you." Rugal said to the creature in a deadpan fashion, prompting zero reaction whatsoever. The creature merely lumbered its way down the next hallway with nary a sound... that is to say, a social sound.

Rugal stopped to dust all the particles of wall that the creature had just propelled into the air off of his tux, reminding himself to demand immediate compensation from the morons who sent him here in the first place. But then he realised something else; clearly the creatures were leaving the third and final passage to the intruder's position to him. The middle position, no less. The path that the prey would be most likely to slip through squeezed out from two sides like a bottle of ketchup. Plus, it was more dramatic that way. The arms dealer smirked to himself again; for every time these creatures angered him somehow, they never failed to impress on the tactical front.

Thus, Rugal stepped into the middle path, between the hallway to the right and the newly-created hallway to the left, and reminded himself; who would they be more likely to trust? Him, or a pair of spike-covered worms? Prejudice judo, this was.

"Little girl... or boy, I do not know!" He yelled down the hallway at the intruder, caring little for the child's gender; fighting leagues of androgynous characters will do that to you. "...But I DO know you can hear me down there! Impending death approaches you from two sides, but fear not! Escape lies in my direction! To not go this way would be the act of a fearless fool!" He assured them, making sure to stop and quiet himself before he inevitably chuckled again.