Aki smiled in relief.

“It looks like Yamamoto-kun got burnt, he’s the one who needs help,” he gestured to the injured boy.

It wasn’t just the presence of a healer that made Aki smile, it was Senhime herself. The timid stuttering girl he encountered in the stairwell earlier was nowhere to be found. The person before him now was a battle-hardened warrior; the resolve in her voice was evidence of that. It was impressive how much confidence and determination she now held. Scorch marks adorned her uniform, the only physical indicator of what they just went through. A scarred uniform that matched his and Yamamoto’s.

The strongest steel is forged by the fires of hell, eh? he mused, Guess I wasn’t the only one who got something out of this whole mess.

Speaking of fire…

“I think Tomoda could get a check up after too. The guy’s been through some stuff.”

There it was. A dazzling blue card that spun elegantly over Hitomi's palm. Her heartbeat steadied itself. It came in line with the music from her headphones. On tempo, it beat - there only to amplify her soul.

To feed it.

"Thy heart that beats for thy friends...

"Of course, you want this?" Hitomi said gently grasping the card, of course it wasn't a card.

It was more

In that instant, she waited for a lover. In a cold cellar.

Thou art warming me little one."

Lips touched vial.

Skull hit floor.

Come, alloweth us to drink from the world until the goblet is exsufflicate

Lover hit chest.

And then. Here she was. She couldn't have been happier in that moment.

and the rest mourn what once wast.

Her eyes focused back into her card. Why was it her card? The golden mist enshrouded her promising to keep her warm as her heartbeat steadied once more.

Feed me little one."

But she wasn't simply talking in two voices, there was a third entering the scene. This one did not speak with the voice of a stranger, instead it spoke to her. It was the card.

"Peril... That is where you stand. At a crossroads of sorts. got it? Cheese, or pepperoni kinda decisions, y'know?"

It was everything

"So... What decision will you make? You could really make anything of this one artichoke..."

It was her soul.

"Na! I don't have to nag you on. You've made up your mind huh?"

Hitomi felt the card crush in her palm as a flash of bright blue illuminated her visage.

And Juliet began to drink. Two words forced themselves to come across Hitmoi's lips.

"Life Drain."

---

@Crimmy@Krayzikk@Plank Sinatra

@Zenphilvian@HereComesTheSnow
Rena then took a breath of relieve after all the fighting was over. "Kaede-Kun you have caused us alot of trouble. If you were not burned up from trying to fix the problem you cause then i would have broke every finger on your right hand." She told him in a angry tone. You can tell that she blame him for his part in getting Aki burned and the rest of them burned. As she walked to the unconiscious Tomoda to check up on him. She then lifted up his upper body up a bit and check on his pulse. "I'm no doctor but his vitals and breathing seems to be ok, and he doesn't seem to be wound(Considing they probably wasn't fighting him, but feel free to correct me)" Rena stated.

@Write@Krayzikk@Plank Sinatra@Ayazi

Act (a) - The Final Countdown

A bolt of mysterious energy struck the lead drone intent on attacking Hitomi. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then several streams of ethereal quintessence proceeded to remove themselves from the machine, twirling through the air to engulf the young woman and her Persona, their bodies pulsing with power as they ... absorbed the very life force of the DRU away. A second later, it paused in its tracks, and the eerie golden optics immediately flickered into darkness, the lifeless visage staring back at her without the threat it once possessed.

Her attack ... it had drained all the energy from the DRU and provided it to her.

The rest of the DRUs appeared quite chastened by the appearance of her Persona, and by the defeat of their leader.

Not that of course, those remaining eleven weren't refraining from charging towards Hitomi and Juliet once more.

---

Arina may have been faster than the the drones, but those in pursuit of her, golden gas rapidly expanding from their bodies, began to whirr to life, the dull, growing roar a sign that they were soon to fire their pizza projectiles at her. Their treads carried them after the Californian with intimidating rumbles, and their optics shone.

There were a few seconds left before they would fire.

---

What was illuminated by Kimiko's phone was a mask.

Not a mask on its lonesome, no, but a mask attached to what appeared to be a facsimile of the human body, a shrivelled thing entrapped within a strangely glowing device, one that thrummed with obvious power and mystery. Golden fog continued to pump out of it wastefully, filling the truck and releasing out into the air. It was doing no harm to those who breathed it in, but the manner in which it distorted the light only served to highlight the utter eeriness of the situation.

As did the blood seeping from the areas where its 'arms' would have been, had it been a human.

The impact of the crash had torn them asunder.

Pale, white flesh had been splattered across the deformed steel sides of the truck.

It suddenly flickered too life.

The head ... moved.

It gazed upon Kimiko.

Outside of the truck, the DRUs began to turn around to face her.

Jin rejoined the group eventually, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Slumping to the butterfly laden ground, Jin let out an exhausted sigh and then stuck one arm up, flashing them a thumbs up. They were clearly too out of breath to speak, and the quiver on their back was empty of arrows. The others had managed to defeat that creature- that made Jin happy. They'd been so afraid, because after leading the Shadowed Tomoda away, they hadn't been able to get back and help with any sort of speed.

Everything was going to hurt tomorrow.

But for now, rest.

"...I want to go home." Was the first sentence out of Jin's mouth, punctuated by gasps of breath.

Senhime|Dedicated Healer?

“It looks like Yamamoto-kun got burnt, he’s the one who needs help,”

"I understand please lead me to him." Senhime spoke the injured needed healing and she was able to provide that so as such she would not rest till it was done. This was the least she could do since in the long run since she seemed to have the needed skills for it so as such was a good candidate to do fulfill the healing role. "Tomoda-San is unconscious at the moment so once I heal Yamamoto-San I'll go see what I am able to do for Tomoda." She spoke once more a clear plan set and she was planning on fulfilling it she was worried about Tomoda but at the moment she had more than just one person so she needed to categorize on the order of what she would do. "Tomoda is seemingly uninjured so for now we can assume that there is little wrong with than exhaustion" She muttered to herself as she tried to think through on what could be wrong with Tomoda.

His first day went awry. Time never passed, it seemed like an eternity for this to be over. Maybe he just woke up from bed with his left foot, passed down a stair, dropped salt... it didn't matter what happened, but Kiragi never felt himself more unlucky than he did today. In his mind, the thoughts of running back to his grandmother's home filled his mind. Is this really the prestigious school Grandmother told me about? All the students seem hazy and distracted. There's this rumor about the student council president's disappearance and they all comment on who is going next... he thought. Those facts put an uneasy feeling into his mind, which made his anxiety even more bigger. Even so, he couldn't afford to disappoint his family anymore. He wanted to make them proud at least once, so he could be happy to see them smile.

After walking for a while, Kiragi sat on a bench and took out a History book. The gentle breeze and the sunset were the only things that would keep him company. "Let's see... I will read Roman mythology today. It calls my attention and fascinates me a little." he spoke to himself while opening the book. He went through the myths, looked at the gods, and stopped on a certain goddess. The goddess of knowledge, Minerva... how I wanted her to bless me with a tiny portion of her intellect. According to many historians, she was the equivalent of the Greek goddess Athena. But maybe there's more to her story than the books speak. he thought while looking at the book. Reading was one of the two things that could lift Kiragi's mood and make him forget about all problems.

Gotta b-be kidding me...

Irony. Definitely irony. He was familiar with the taste, but tasting it right here and right now wasn't a good sign. Split lip for sure. His nose hurt, a lot actually, and might have been broken. Hard to tell. His back felt cold, cold except for the warm, slow rivulets of red trickling down his back. Same place they hit Benkei. Pretty self explanatory. Which was good because McD's employee-of-the-month three months running was having a really, really hard time thinking through the pain.

Not that he was gonna get the chance to recover. He could hear them coming. New girl had her Persona, too, but he could still hear 'em coming. Meant he needed to hold out. Kimiko hadn't done her thing. Needed more time. So he'd get it for her. Daisuke pushed himself to his feet, groaning a little at the feedback his body sent his way, and surveyed the scene. At least, the pieces of it he could do something about. Ten more DRUs closing on his position. Benkei further away. No weapon in hand. Which, actually, made step one clear. Gesturing towards Benkei seemed to make the larger-than-life Persona get the picture (naturally, he was Daisuke after all and Daisuke was him and he really needed to leave thinking about it 'til after he got patched up) and the warrior monk hurled the teen's makeshift staff at the back of one of the approaching DRUs.

True to irritatingly-pierce-resistant form, the staff didn't do much in the way of damage. But it hit and bounced off, sending it spinning end over end back towards the teen who caught it with his right hand and dropped down into a ready stance. They'd already proven he couldn't do much by hand, but he didn't need to.

Benkei sprinting in his direction, ready to Bash in the chassis of the first DRU to make a move, meant he just needed to not get killed.

He could do that.

He could get them all that little bit more time.

@MagusDream

Claud Albert Hamilton

As the evening hours crept on, a young man finally departed from his classroom to make his way home. If one ever bothered to take note of the man, they would be aware that late departures were the norm for him. And if one knew the man, they would be aware this was a highly calculated effort to avoid details of his living quarters and domicile situation from being explained. One would also know that such circumstances feel right in line with the general distance the young man maintained in most every situation he found himself in. Yet no one knew the man, and no one took note of him. After all, if the man, whose name was Claud Albert Hamilton, was anything at all in this life, then he was an observer. He merely looked in on his own life and lives of others. And observers were never noticed by others, for an observer's sole job was to the vessel that others might glance in through.

Hence as the the young man passed through the courtyard on his way home he fully intended to simply head home without stopping. Yet the world has a nasty habit of forcing the hands of the otherwise isolated, and for once something caught the attention of Claud causing him to pause. It wasn't the boy sitting in the courtyard, no nothing of that nature was odd, his fellow students often had a habit of sitting in the courtyard after hours. It was after all a relaxing environment where one could crack open a book, take an afternoon nap, or simply chat with friends. No there was nothing about the locale or the other man's presence that caught the interest of the young man. Rather it was a but a simple object that Claud took note of.

"The Penguin Dictionary of Classical Mythology? An excellent source to read no doubt." The young man noted in a gesture that surprised even him. It was a peculiarity for the man to voice his thoughts on any matter, but whatever moment of surprise the man may have felt about his gesture, it didn't show. Instead the train of thought continued: "Personally I prefer to read from some of the original Greek and Latin texts, such as The Aeneid of course, although The Metamorphoses are also an interesting read. Although I must profess I am more familiar with Latin studies over Greek."

To speak a sentence was an unusual for the man known as Claud Albert Hamilton, to speak for so long was even odder. Yet when it came to his studies he was diligent, it only stood to reason that he must possess some interest in the fields of academia. A fact that was now becoming rather apparent as he continued speaking. Yet he also realized another grievous faux pas.

"Ah, my apologies for the lack of manners on my part. My name is Claud Albert Hamilton, pleasure to meet you."

The man's introduction finished with an outstretched hand. Today had truly been a change of pace for the young observer.

Tomoda Nakamichi

You stir at the motion you're put through. The voices gathering around. They sound, funnily enough, like they're underwater to you. Seems like the people who wrote things like that had the right idea, or maybe even very good memory during periods of brain operation at suboptimal capacity.

But yes, they're there, audible, muffled, and in complete contrast to the comparatively clear whisper burning in the back of your skull.

You aren't your relationships.

Ghostlike, ephemeral, and at the very edge of your perception, it acts almost as a spark to start the rest of you up.

Who were you?

"Mom, I wanted frosted flakes for dinner, why you gotta be like that with the piano?"

You were a young man having a hard time putting a coherent train of thought together as you came to, if nothing else.

Hell, your family doesn't even own a piano.

Don't avoid the question.

...

"Oof. Did someone hit me with a bus? I feel like hell." you state jokingly, as the cobwebs clear. With considerable effort and ache to fight through, you sit up. Everyone looks about... Marginally, let's say, better than you feel.

And you know why that is.

You adjust your shades and hold the bridge of your nose. You wish it'd shut up. You wish it'd go away. You wish you didn't hear it or have it bugging you right now.

And slowly it dawns on you why.

The smirk fades.

You've been running. This whole damn time, you've been running.

You've ran right into everyone else who'd take you's life, because you didn't like your own.

It wasn't bad. It wasn't suffering. It wasn't a life even particularly hard.

You're a normal high-school kid. If anything, it's easy.

It's boring. It's dull. You want something more out of it.

It's why you try to codify everything with dumb references and pop culture parallels.

It's why you've taken interest in glorified ghost stories and folk tales.

It's why you've distracted yourself with everyone else's lives instead of looking at what you had.

You've been running from your normal, easy life because you don't feel satisfied with it.

One more time— Who are you?

...

You look, candidly, at your surroundings. A void with a floor made of butterflies.

Yeah, that counts as pretty abnormal.

You, garnering a reputation as the most boisterous man in whatever room you walk into, say it lowly to yourself. Not a mutter, not a mumble, not a whisper. Much like the voice at the back of your head, it's soft, quiet—

And clear.

"I'm Tomoda Nakamichi."

And you've found your interesting life.

Persona.

This time it's not a club you reach for, but a card emitting a blue light that puts the butterflies to shame. It's a hot blue, brimming with energy and potential. Instinctively, you know what it represents, what it means. What it means to you, and only you.

You grip it tight, and crush.

You feel a rush. A wave of self-actualization. Self-realization. Self-determination.

You're your own goddamn man, man.

Fire shoots through your veins. Rising to your feet, even in spite of your beaten state, you stand tall. For behind you stands taller still a pumpkin-headed spirit of fire. Your spirit of fire.

Pyro Jack.

@HereComesTheSnow@Suku@Mistress Dizzy@chukklehed@Zenphilvian@banjoanjo@demonspade64

School Side

"You're all safe. I'm glad."

As if in response to the triumphant awakening of Tomoda Nakamichi, and the awakening of his manically-grinning Persona, one that seemed so similar to the shade of the Shadow they had just defeated, a soft, yet distinct voice, fuzzy yet coherent, masculine yet feminine, rang through the air all around them. Each word buzzed with a restrained energy, bouncing across them all in tandem with the beating of the floor of blue butterflies.

There was an ethereal, echoing quality to it.

For a second, nothing followed those words. Then the slowly brightening world around them glowed, materialising into a gentle blue. There was a floor now, a solid expanse of white below them, and with their purpose complete, the butterflies that had supported them began to fade away, with only a few remaining solid to the sight.

They too, began to rise up, coalescing together to project a strange, ghostly half-mask.

"I apologise for the ordeal you have all just faced," it spoke, revealing the source of that original voice. It was faint ... weaker, as if it were speaking through water to address the gathered teenagers. "I did not foresee it."

Yet despite its apology, it did not seem troubled in tone.

"You ... all may have questions. I am Philemon, a dweller between consciousness ... and unconsciousness."

@Onarax



He was surprised by the sudden approach. Kiragi wasn't used to talk much, except with his own family. But he couldn't deny that the person seemed to possess a high intellect, since they were able to immediately guess the book he was hearing, even if this was an easier source for people to study the mythologies. "Y-Yes, The Penguin Dictionary of Classical Mythology is a way for me to distract the mind, actually. I... umm... do enjoy the originals more as well and I... read them more than this book." he spoke, nervous. But the man didn't seemed that dangerous, although Kiragi showed that he was not too much comfortable with talking with others. Even if the subject was of his interest, that didn't made him any calmer.

Then, he finally presented himself as Claud Albert Hamilton. In Kiragi's vision, he's possibly a teacher, judging by the way he speaks. However, assumptions without any fundamental proof existed only to be discarded, so he didn't called him directly as a teacher. "I-It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Claud. I-I am Kiragi Komaeda and I was... transferred to here today." he said, responding to the handshake accordingly.

@Crimmy

Jin picked up their head, then stood in a surprisingly swift motion.

"Yeah, I got questions. Who the fuck are you, really? Why did you bring us here, and how the fuck do we get out? I'm fucking exhausted, you tried to hurt my classmates, and I ain't in the mood for any kind of mystery. And just in case you wanna be difficult-" They repeated the whole thing in English, with perfect pronunciation and 50% more cussing.

Clotho hovered just above Jin, waiting silently and watching her master.

Arina Mifune – Shikatsu

She heard the whirling sounds from the robots. She knew of that sound and looking around frantically for protection she did not notice that crack on the sidewalk floor, tripping…again and falling down face flat. It hurt as she got a small scratch on her cheek. She could still hear the whirling sounds as being on the floor at a critical time meant she had less of a chance to survive. Though she got herself up and continued running as fast as she could, fearing for her life. Mortality once again came up into her mind, how one existence can end in an instant. In her case, she would possibly die by pizza, one of her favorite foods on the weekends.

She looked back behind her shoulder running, seeing the golden gas. She muttered to herself, “It cannot be like this, now!” Arina began to hope that someone, something will save her from her doom.

A burst of light and heat brings Aki’s focus away from Yamamoto. Well, at least they didn’t have to fuss over Tomoda anymore. He looked better than ever, flashier than ever with his fiery Persona standing behind him, which had Tomoda’s trademark shark-toothed grin permanently carved into its face. It was the after-image of the monster they had just defeated, albeit with a less shadowy aura. Even with this recent development, Aki would continue keeping his distance. Those burns wouldn’t be forgotten so easily.

Then suddenly, a voice. Distinct but impossible to pin down. Then the scenery changed. More butterflies. Aki was getting awfully tired of them. The source of the voice revealed itself, a ghostly half-mask. Real Phantom of the Opera-like. Philemon was its name. And it was way too tactful for someone, something, who had just watched or was at least aware of the life-threatening situation the teens were put in. That … didn’t sit right with Aki.

Takahashi’s outburst was completely justified but getting overcome by such fervent emotion wasn’t the way to deal with people who held power over you. Aki didn’t operate like that. The swearing wasn’t helping either, no matter how valid their points were. And it certainly wouldn’t help if they repeated their spiel in Engli- oh my. Were half of those actual words? Aki had watched many an American film with his sisters so he was familiar with some curses. But some of the things that were coming out of Takahashi’s mouth, they were certainly … original.

“Learning new things everyday,” Aki muttered under his breath.

He couldn’t let the conversation with this other-worldly (and possibly dangerous) being end on such a hostile note. They weren’t out of the dark yet. Figuratively, anyway. The void had brightened and transformed into a white floor, but this location didn’t seem any closer to home than the void had. And Aki really wanted to go home.

“Ah, apologies for my classmates uh, tone,” Aki feigned a nervous chuckle. People were more likely to comply if they believed that they controlled the conversation, “but they raised a valid point. Could you please tell us how to get home? And while you’re at it, sir, how did we even get here? What is this place?”

@Mistress Dizzy@banjoanjo@Zenphilvian@Suku@chukklehed@HereComesTheSnow@demonspade64

School Side - NPC: Philemon

If the mask of dully-glowing blue butterflies were perturbed at all by Jin's tirade towards it, it showed no reaction or sign that indicated such. In fact, the being known as Philemon seemed to take their questions in with a certain calmness, although its form flickered weakly every once in a while, the ethereal flapping of the wings only capable of weakly holding the shape of the mask together.

"This realm is one that has tapped into the Collective Unconsciousness," explained the voice again, quiet and fading, yet distinct to the ear. "It was the work of a malevolent force, one that was also responsible for trapping my presence in this school."

It flickered again. It was clear that a significant amount of effort was being exerted by the butterflies.

"I have been seeking out capable figures to bring an end to its activities," said Philemon softly, "but it has been taking those for itself. Your classmates ... their disappearances were its work."

Something dimmed in the mask. It wasn't exactly disappointment, but more a sense of quiet disapproval. Whether it was for the being that was interfering in the school that it spoke of, or of their classmates, the teenagers could not tell.

"I had not planned on all of you to become involved. If you wish to return home and leave this ordeal behind ..."

A swirling blue gate manifested in a bright flash of light behind it.

"Then please step into this."

---

@Ayazi@Write@Krayzikk@Plank Sinatra

Act (a) - Sulfur Dioxide

An overwhelming number of pizza delivery drones, intent on delivering a fatty, savoury death to their beloved customers, was not a threat that a group of teenagers (even ones with supernatural powers), could easily deal with. Indeed, one of said teenagers didn't even have any powers of her own, while another was in quite a scrape, given his injuries and all. They were, with apologies for the poor choice of words, appeared to be utterly cheesed in the face of the DRUs.

One that dared to approach the wounded Daisuke again was bashed apart by his Persona as vowed, but there were still a number more (fifty-four in total now, but nine coming after the burger boy), and Hitomi was still surrounded by a large group that would likely rapidly tire her. Arina, the Californian expatriate, was in more dire straits than United Artists after the box-office bomb that was Heaven's Gate. The youthful Kimiko and her charmed pet DRU, however, were now face to face with the strange masked thing inside the crashed truck, with more of the drones rapidly approaching.

A growing predicament.

Especially for Arina, whose pursuers were about to kill her stone-dead with flying pizza, and there appeared to be nobody around to save her.

Fortunately, any shamus worth a dime has great dramatic timing.

A white Toyota HiAce careened around a corner, tires screaming loudly against the tarmac as it crashed into the delivery drones menacing the panicking Arina just before they fired off their packages, the twelve rapidly-moving pizzas instead slamming into the wall of a nearby property and splattering into disgusting, saucey remains, the sheer force of the attack knocking the bricks loose and nearly bringing it down. Yet the van was merely dented, shaking violently as it screeched to a halt, having successfully protected the Californian girl.

The scent of burning rubber filled the air.

The door of the van immediately opened, and Arina would catch sight of the motorman, a well-dressed fella with a shocking mop of emerald hair and bright eyes of scarlet. Somebody who looked like a real rube, especially with the funny lid sitting on his conker, but in this queer ol' case, even a dumb onion of a boob was the bee's knees to see.

"Better bounce, doll," he said easily, stepping out of the jitney. "I'll ride these off the track didos real swell."

Sasori Yoshinori, age thirty-one and unmarried - a whoopee gumshoe from suburbia, adjusted his hat and stepped out from behind the cover of his HiAce and grinned at the sight of the conflict. A real doozy it was, but no need to pump some more fellas for information.

These buzzers could do.

A baton, glommed from some johns back when he was upriver in the clubhouse, slid out from his sleeve and into the grip of his right hand.

Time to help out a few lil' birds.

Oni.

It felt devious, wriggling through the the layers of detachment in the dreamy girl's brain and trying to corrupt the bastion of purity at her center. On the surface, it was a mask - unyielding and expressionless, like all masks - but it hung elevated above the golden fog, reveling in a position of unholy power over the mystical energy in the truck. It was behind the revolt of the pizza bots. It had to be. She could put a stop to all of this; she knew she could.

I'm so hungry...

Why wasn't Daisuke with her anymore? He'd gotten back up...hadn't he?

Daisuke has to serve me fries...

Putting this mask down would put a stop to all of this. And until Daisuke got up (he had to get up) to do something...

It was up to the dreamer.

And she thought she knew what to do. The Japanese girl's fist balled up as she stared into the demon's impassive face.

"Get these hands."

And Kimiko Saitou threw her first punch.

Arina Mifune – Shikatsu – Why is this moment something that be out from an anime?

What the…

It was sudden for her, realizing that a van in the nick of time saved her from a fate by pizza. She saw the man from the country but it seemed odd that someone would be asking her to get into a stranger car. But with the amount of stuff that happened today, this was the best option to survive. Arina nodded at him, “Thank you” she said and entered into the vehicle.

He was gonna be real fucking ugly in the morning. If he got to see the next one. Wiping the trickle of blood out of his right eye and away from his nose, Daisuke knew he was punching at a weight class way above his own. Literally. Each robotic pizza delivery demon weighed three or so times what he did, and at nine DRUs coming after him... Three times nine, twenty seven. Outweighed twenty seven times over. Benkei evened the odds a bit, but... He hurt. He hurt all fucking over. He could feel the hits, the spikes of pain through the adrenaline-fueled haze. How many DRUs were left? How long could he keep going? How long until he wasn't quick enough?

"Nine on one, huh? Can't handle a fair fight?" Daisuke laughed, even though he instantly regretted it. He wasn't going to let them see that, though, so he spat the blood that had leaked into his mouth on the ground between them. "Too scared of a teenager?"

Didn't fucking matter. Nowhere to run to, even if he felt like it. And he wasn't gonna. That'd mean leaving Kimiko and the guitar girl behind. And there was no way in hell that he was gonna do that. Sachiko's badass big brother didn't back down, and he certainly didn't hang his friends out to dry.

"Fucking hate bullies, y'know that?" The teen delinquent rolled his neck, feeling the joints crack and advanced on his enemies deliberately. Benkei followed, matching the McDonalds worker's almost cocky swagger. Daisuke cast a look over his shoulder to the towering Persona, and added; "Follow my lead, big guy."

He lunged abruptly, the word "Bash!" ripping from the depths of his chest in a roar. His makeshift staff arced to the side matched by the flat of Benkei's blade, slamming into the side of a DRU. He spun without waiting to see the result, catching the same DRU with the haft as another roar tore from his lips and the naginata's flat smashed into another DRU. He didn't cease the assault, striking each of the DRUs as rapidly as he could and moving erratically to re-position and prevent the fucking robotic heralds of fast food unemployment from taking clear aim.

The best defense was a good offense, and pressed against the wall, Daisuke was fighting back with everything he had.

Senhime stared at the offered portal tempted to go into it and let the past remain and forget about the entire ordeal but something stopped her. Answers she wanted answers what this was all about what was that phantom they just fought? All of it was floating through her head questions abound as she started to think about what was happening and what these changed brought and meant. It was all so confusing and a little bit intriguing. After all there was a lot of potential questions that could be answered from this she had a source one that can potentially sing for her and answer the questions she had. "I have a question what exactly is all this and what does it mean for one Historical and mythological figures acting as guardians is not common or even rare for that matter." She spoke aloud her voice shaking slightly but a tone of steel was heard underneath.