@dragonmancer

Fafnir, adorning his plated armor, marched on the battleground with his right hand dragging the large lance behind him. His crimson eyes glanced over the crowd as he made his way on stage. The knight's lumbering tail of blue scales slithering on the floor like a serpent with each step. When the dragon got into his position as a challenger, he struck his lance into the earth in front of him with great force. With the lance digging into the ground, Fafnir awaited his challenger with a patient and still stature.

Margot came onstage second, her blades clipped to her waist. Her cape fluttered behind her as she strode to her starting marker. She'd already seen pictures and videos of her opponent, but seeing the ancient creature in person was entirely different. He could easily look down on almost any opponent in this tournament, including her. Between his wings, his tail, and his eyes, there was no mistaking that he was not entirely human. Still, he was her opponent, and as such deserved her courtesy. "My name is Margot Coudray, better known as Renard Bleu." Doffing her hat, she bowed to him. "It is an honor to have this chance to fight you."

The knight of scaled wings stared at his challenger for a short moment after her introduction. However he immediately sprang to life. He stood up straight in a firm posture, and placed his hand back on the hilt of his lance. "I am Fafnir Sigurd, and I am just honored to face such an opponent." His inhuman eyes then spotted the sword at her side. "Oho? Swordplay!" He seemed rather ecstatic by the tone of his voice. As he spoke, he lifted the lance off of the ground and spun it between his fingers. "That takes me back, this fight will truly be interesting." Having Finished that sentence, Fafnir stopped twirling his weapon, getting into a stance with his hand closer to the blade of his spear, the whole weapon on an angle facing downwards near his legs. "Come."

"Gladly, but we should wait for the match to actually start." The musketeer donned her hat again. She drew her blades, their highly polished metal gleaming in the sunlight as she adopted her stance. Focusing on the fight, the din of the crowd and the announcer became muted. Her mind raced as she glanced around the battlefield. Seemed like this was one of the less flashy rings. Apart from some pillars on the four corners of the arena, there was nothing breaking up the concrete tiles. She reminded herself that to win she needed to either knock him out of the ring, or just plain knock him out. Already she had a battle plan.

"Are you ready...?" Andre asked in a restrained tone, before he exploded with...

"... Go!"

She took off like a shot.Running forward, she closed the distance between the two with her dagger and sword held at the ready, watching for Sigurd's inevitable counter.

From what short time Fafnir had, he had studied both her stance and weapons. The light dual wielding and uniform had given away that this fighter was built to be swift and experienced in close quarters, the shorter dagger could have been used to catch weapons. The dragon, an experienced fighter, knew that he had to be less predictable to fight such an opponent, especially with his opening counter. Once she ran into a dangerously close range, Fafnir lifted his left hand, away from his lance which he now wielded solely with his right arm, and attempted to clash his armored elbow-pad with her dagger, while his tail thrust from between his grieves likes an unseen spear, going for her chest.

Margot ducked as her opponent tried to elbow her, a smart move since she'd managed to get within the range of his spear. However she had not taken into account Fafnir's extra limbs and barely able to register the tail swinging towards her. "Merde." The tail knocked the wind out of her and launched her a few feet back. She manged to recover in time to land on her feet, coughing as she got back into her stance. "Nice trick." She did the classic 'come at me' gesture with her dagger, slowly circling her opponent. "Got any more?"

Fafnir readied his lance as his opponent recovered from the blow. He admired his foes pride, it had delivered a sense of nostalgia. Without saying a word, he answered her challenge by leaping high into the air, his figure shrunk from the distance he attained, before his size slowly began to grew. In moments he'd come crashing down from above upon Margot, his lance ready to strike the earth as electricity ran off his armor and weapon like a bolt of lightning, having left a trail behind him.

The fencer saw the coming the moment he lept into the air. Such an attack would be devastating; having anyone stab you at terminal velocity would take out pretty much anyone. The electricity was just overkill. Still, even with the dragon's wings there was only so much air control he had. The timing was tight as she dashed underneath him, using her ki to speed her way over to the pillar behind him. Her neck hairs stood on end as he landed, a blast of air nearly knocking her over again. She used her agility to run up the pillar, catching a glimpse of the dragon already turning around.

Landing with a great crash, great force and electricity erupted from around the knight as his lance dug into the arena's ground. The fierce power erupted a crater beneath him. As the energy died down, Fafnir prepared to keep up with her pace. Trying to give her little time to comfortable dodge, the knight pulled his weapon out of the ground and began to extend his ki as a crimson blade. The lance's range extended with its blade as after the somewhat quick charged weapon now slashed towards both her and the pillar that she had ran up.

Margot hissed in surprise as she barely dodged out of the way of the slash, kicking off the pillar. A strip of blue cloth from her cape fluttered to the ground as the lance gouged out the concrete just below her. Margot flipped over Fafnir's head, landing behind him. She turned on the spot, spotting what she had been looking for, the soft spot in his plate armor under his shoulder. Shouting out, she drove her dagger home, hoping to weaken his control of that massive lance of his.

Not being able to keep up with her mobility, when the blade dug into his shoulder the knight had dropped his weapon. He ignored the pain however, and while for the moment he couldn't use his injured arm well his other arm launched forward as he turned, electricity violently surging through his gauntlet as he made a grab at the fencer's throat to unleash to the full voltage of electricity upon her.

The static charge of the air around them tipped her off that his swing was no mere counterattack. While she had already started to step back, the speed the knight recovered from the stab forced her to expend ki on a Saut du Chat, leaving behind an afterimage that took the swing. Now that he faced her, most of his weak points were out of reach, and even without his lance the crackling corona around his good fist suggested that he had more fight in him still. She glanced between his wounded arm and the gouged pillar as she bounced on her fear. "Sorry Sigurd. Perhaps we should tone it down a bit? It would be a pity to cripple each other so early in the tournament?"

Having grabbed nothing but air, The knight's crimson gaze locked onto the fencer as his reach retreated to a more comfortable stance. With his weakened arm, the torn part of the armor having dripped red liquid, The knight began to pick up his fallen weapon. "Don't take such pity on a soldier, you've given me a hell of a fight this far don't tell me you're going to stop now." He mused, He was barely able to pick up his weapon, though is arm wasn't entirely disabled, the wound made it difficult for him to effectively move it. As a result the knight had to wield the weapon with both hands. He knew that, especially with this injury, it would be difficult to keep up with her nimble and precise moves, but it was that challenge that thrilled him. Filled with nostalgia, the knight grinned beneath his helmet.

Through his 'burning armor', flames rapidly ignited and burst off of his flesh and plated armor. With his body cloaked in fire the heat that surrounded his very presence was a bit oppressive. It was like standing next to a large bonfire. Fafnir then proceeded to leap to her direction, slashing his spear as to strike her in his aerial charge

The heat nearly took her breath away. Margot's mask automatically dimmed her vision to compensate for the brilliance of the flames. When he made it clear that he wasn't going to stand down, she had backed away, but this was something different. Even as she dove to the side like a matador dodging a bull, sweat streamed down her face.If it weren't for the thickness of her costume, she was sure that she'd have some of her arm-hairs singed. She was close enough that she could see the near glowing edge of his lance. As long as he was engulfed in flames, she couldn't comfortably approach him. There was only one move in her arsenal that would let her strike him without suffering burns, but she had to wait for another opening.

With the intent of giving her little time to recover, Fafnir drove his blade in an overhead swing to Margot. Though his right arm was a bit stiff from the injury, the support of both hands had allowed him to wield the weapon effectively enough. His tail would slither into a position as to wait for her to fall into a trap he now devised. From his experience he had a good hunch on her next dodge, but there was the chance she could avoid what he had planned.

The overhead slash gave her an opening to get behind him again, but it would be risky to exploit. She channeled her ki and slid under his swing, swinging her sword up to try and knock the lance out of the way. Her soaked clothing dried up in moments, and she briefly considered just how bad of an idea this might have been, but followed through. She launched herself upward twirling in the air, as she slashed at the dragon's most exposed body parts, its wings.

Her blade clashed with the lance and sent it upwards enough for her to avoid it entirely.
He didn't expect the girl to be so nimble as to slash at his wings. Crimson had spread from the blade's path as Margot's weapon grazed the leathery membrane of the wing as she descended. How long has it been since he felt such pain, he wondered. Though he paused with a groan of pain, Fafnir did not falter from the intense sting. Immediately he reacted by spinning to face her, the flames whirled around him from the motion as he had raised his lance in an arcing motion, a move that helped concentrated his ki control. The ground below Margot grew red with heat, before flames shortly erupted out of the earth and directly underneath her figure. This was his rising fire.

Without any air control, Margot could not dodge the blast as she fell back to earth. All she could was cry out as the flames headed straight towards her. She brought her cape up to try and block some of the heat. The wall of flames blew her across the arena, sending her skidding and tumbling until she drove her dagger into the ground, arresting her skid a few feet from the edge. Clothes still smouldering, she pushed herself to her feet. "Doesn't your kind normally breathe fire?" She took a deep breath of the blessedly cooler air as she looked back towards the cooling rock, patting out some of the embers.

Altogether, the flames from the rock and his armor soon dispersed as she recovered from the intense heat. With his armor of fire gone, his wounds were more visible. Blood trickled down from his right arm to its elbow, as well as his left wing. His blood, like the rest of his body, didn't boil from his own flames, yet Fafnir was panting a bit. Was he getting old? It has been some time since he had ever fight so feverishly. Though the thrill was bliss his body had grown a bit soft from sleeping over the eons. The ancient knight had to drive his lance into the ground as to support his large body. He bellowed out a jovial chuckle, "It feels good to clash with such an opponent, my blood is boiling with excitement." He started to stand straight once more. "Normally, but I cannot breathe flames so easily in this binded vessel of a body." He explained as he readied his lance. In the moment of rest, the knight had time to think of his next moves, as well as trying to get a read on hers. She was fast, too fast for him to effectively make an assault with most of his arsenal. So far, his tendency to take her attacks so he can perform a counter attack has worked, but he wasn't sure how much more he could tank. Her moves were precise, it was vastly different then just simply being impaled or pulverized by great force, her accuracy to vitals and joints was a skill to be admired.

Fafnir raised his weapon, then chopped it down on a segment of the pillar he had sliced through earlier, cleaving a sizable chunk off. The large mass of marble was then lifted with his left arm, and crudely thrown at the fencer. Afterwards he quickly gripped his weapon and awaited her charge.

Margot jumped at the sight of him chopping through the rock like wood, and twirled out of the way of the chunk easily. Still, that blast took a lot out of her. The only saving grace was that he seemed to be suffering as well. Maybe she could finish him off soon, if she could just press her one advantage over him. By now she'd gained a respect for the dragon, and the bruise forming on her chest reminded her of what happened first time she came to him. However if he wouldn't come to her, she would have to come to him. "I must admit I did not expect to fight a dragon in this tournament. It's nice to see that a Musketeer's style still holds up to one such as you." She walked towards him, focusing all her energy as she picked up to a run, blades at the ready. "Now, Knight Sigurd, En Guarde for Tempête d'épées!" As she made it into the range of his spear, her blades were up and ready to stab, but at the last moment she disappeared into a blue blur.

The knight was prepared for her strike, but did not expect her to vanish in such speed. If she was going to bring out such a fierce attack, so too would Fafnir. Flames once again erupted from the knight as he drove his lance back into the earth. This time however it was not for mere armor, unleashing his raging dragon, The flames that had surrounded Fafnir towered and snaked into the sky, taking the shape of an oriental dragon's head as the flaming apparition of crackling fire mimicking a fierce roar. The Serpentine flame rushed down and rapidly began to circle around him, then coiling beyond its borders. Each circle the dragon made let its body of fire cover more ground, which now had started to encroach the arena's parameter as the apparition's vacant eyes tried to locate the fencer.

Margot dashed around the arena, only briefly visible when she had to sharply change directions to avoid running off the ends of the arena, and by the drafts produced by her speed as she edged past the fiery serpent. The heat was immense, but ultimately bearable so long as she stayed away from the head. She had to act quickly to capitalize on what she could feel was going to be her last big play of the fight. She skidded to a stop behind the knight, cape smouldering, and drove her sword into the back of his knee. Not allowing him any time to retaliate, she then drove her dagger into the tip of his tail, hoping to pin him further before disappearing again.

Though the tail was more resilient then human flesh, being composed of tough scales, the dagger had pinned it to the ground. The rush of pain and the exertion of ki took its toll as the apparition soon faded after Margot dashed off again. The flames had left behind rows of steam from the earth and the knight's armor. His body, the way it was now, couldn't draw as much ki from his original reserve. This and the fact that his term of laziness had made him a bit soft had caused the knight to grow a bit weary. One thing that hadn't change, however, was his will over pain. Despite the blood that now pooled at his feet Fafnir stood and had leaned most of his weight on the lance that dug deep into the ground. His eyes were closed.

Figuring that his vision could not keep up with such speed, Fafnir relied on trying to calm himself, steady his breathe, and try to sense her energy. Even with this method, however, he couldn't track her. He knew she would deliver another attack soon, perhaps more then once, so the knight stood there. He didn't move, didn't attempt to guard himself either. His weapon was still in the ground, he was entirely vulnerable. However, because his weapon was in the ground it made it difficult to see that the ki he was recovering was being drawn into the lance's blade. Another one of his strong moves, tactical strike, was now in preparation. All he had to do now, was to wait, and hope to endure her following move.

Without her dagger, Margot's options were halved. She saw the dragon reeling back his flame dragon, and saw another opening, one she needed to decisively exploit if she had any chance of winning the fight. Bouncing off the damaged pillar, she lunged at the knight, digging deep for one more flurry of blows. The world became a blur as she focused on the six points she would attack. Slash one, back of the still good knee. "Unus.". Strikes two and three, a slash at the strap holding his left bracer on followed by a flick and stab to the inside of the now exposed elbow. "Pro omnibus." Before his bracer even reached the ground, she had twirled around to his right side. She cut the straps off his right bracer. "Omnes," Her body ached from the stress that she was putting it through as she pulled off one final series of strikes. The first one drove the tip of her sword clean through his exposed forearm, before driving her sword home again into the previously opened wound in his armpit. "Pro uno."

Once the last blow landed, the rest of the world sped up again. Part of her hoped she didn't go too far and actually kill her opponent. The other part of her was crying out at her for going too far in pushing herself. Lungs burning, she tugged on her sword but it held fast in Fafnir's shoulder. Letting go, stumbled a few steps backwards. She couldn't even bring herself to stand up straight, supporting herself on shaky knees as she looked at her opponent, hoping beyond hope that he'd taken enough.

Fafnir went nearly numb as the barrage of blows nearly incapacitated his muscles. However upon her last strike, Fafnir held his limp arm in the way of the blade with a motion nearly as fast as the jab itself, angled more toward the muscle then her previous attempt to impale another joint. At first it seemed like a futile attempt, but with whatever unnatural strength he could muster, he flexed his muscles to increase tension within the flesh. This action made it impossible for the fencer to draw her blade from his wound, effectively trapping her weapon in place.

Though he could no longer hold his lance with his arms, his other injured arm removed his helmet to expose the warrior's face. His primordial eyes focused on his opponent as he willed through unimaginable pain. The knight gripped his massive lance with merely his teeth and jaws. With a poorly finesse strike, slashed the ki-charged Lance at his opponent with his tactical strike to land a blow to her chest, though avoiding to make a killing blow just as he tried to spare him. He had sacrificed everything to ensure he could land his final attack on his nimble foe, whatever the results came from his attack, a hit or miss, this match was over.

"Oh bordel!" She couldn't believe it. Even with two blades stuck in him, Fafnir still came. His movements were clumsy to be sure, but as unarmed and tired as she was, she had no means to retaliate, let alone block the attack. He came directly at her, and with almost none of her usual finesse, she dodged. Rather than dive into a roll, or twirl out of the way, her dodge was more of a controlled and intentional fall. She heard ripping from her cape as the dragon's attack caught it, jerking her until the snap broke off. She groaned as she rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows, expecting to be staring down another attack.

As much as Fafnir wanted to continue, his teeth could not properly wield the lance for a second attack, the weapon merely flew from his jaws as head came to a stop from its turn. With his muscles loosened, Fafnir ripped the rapier from his injury. As if his wounds were not enough, having to manually rip out the blade was like pressing the stringer of an insect against one's skin. He could barely move, so numb he had gotten that his legs were reluctant to move. By now a large puddle of crimson was beneath his armor. He was panting, hard. Instead of focusing on his unarmed opponent, he turned and reached for his tail. He removed the dagger that had pinned it to the floor. Though free from that inconvenience, he couldn't get far with his injuries anyhow. It took a good amount of effort just to not fall over and drown in his own blood. Fafnir was out of ki, out of vitality, and soon, out of blood. He turned to his opponent one last time. Yet of all things, he smiled. This was perhaps the only fight he could remember where he lost. Yet, it was thrilling. He never entered this tournament anyway. It was merely his announcement to the world of his returned, as well as a way to refresh his fighting talents. Without any regrets, having fought as long as he wanted too. He allowed himself to fall, but not before he had weakly bowed to his opponent to honor her and her victory. With a loud thud the mythical titan fell.

Margot scrambled out of the way, the scent of blood filling her nostrils as she watched him fall. Filled with relief as she realized the fight was over, she didn't register as Andre announced her as the winner, nor as paramedics streamed onstage to surround her opponent. All she did, was collapse from exhaustion, and pass out.

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Maaaaaaan, Jaden didn't want them to throw some jobber at him.

He needed someone with skill, style... Jaden wants to make waves, not tinsy little ripples.

Though, making waves might be more accurate than he thought! He's fighting some shark scrub with water manipulation as his ki technique. Meo, that was his name. What a gay-ass name! Jaden was jumping from wall to wall from the stage that was designed as a city. He hit one wall, and bounced off it, as Meo's surfboard hit it, breaching a hole in the wall! He might be a jobber, but he sure packs a punch. There was a blatant opening as the surfboard was coming back.

Jaden grinned like the cheshire cat, as he leaped up into the air. Instead of moving to the next wall, Jaden did the Japanese salute, and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Appearing in between Meo and his surfboard. He caught the sharksurfer off guard as he clashed at the surfboard with both blades. Ki went against ki as Jaden was slid backwards. He quickly whipped his head around, and kicked Meo in the chest as he was sneaking up on him.

Slashing both blades outwards, Jaden launched the surfboard away, and turned around with a wide grin on his face. Meo charged him, but Jaden blocked the kick with both blades. In the moment, Jaden hopped up into the air like a ball. Spinning as he arced downwards towards Meo. He grabbed Meo by both shoulders before his feet even hit the ground, and then flipped him over his head. Slamming Meo into the ground. Meo rolled away, but Jaden let him get up. Dramatically putting his swords away, keeping one hand near his favorite sword.

Murakumo.

"Give up." Jaden cockily said. "It's over, go home." He laughed.

Meo retracted his jaws, and Jaden could only smile. Meo charged Jaden, and that was his first and last mistake. Jaden grabbed onto Murakumo. He felt his warrior spirit burn as his hand was surrounded with a green fire as he felt Murakumo's infinite power flow through him. He couldn't hold on for too long, or... he'd hate to ruin this fine tournament.

In the blink of an eye, Jaden slashed upwards, while shouting,

"THE LEGENDARY BLAAAAAAAADE!"

A massive wave of ki flew through the air, cutting through even parts of the stage as it sent a wave of ki directly at Meo. His eyes went wide, as the massive wave of power went flying towards him. Meo was launched through the air by the blade, all the way off the stage. Meo screamed as he was sent straight into a wall, going off stage in a dramatic display. Dust blanketed the stage, and nobody could see anyone once Murakumo's ki faded.

Everyone was looking around... until the dust settled, and all that was seen was Jaden. Holding his microphone in one hand. He did a quick spin, before he put it up to his lips.

"He had fury in his eyes, but I left him paralyzed. Don't get trapped up in his lies. Cause, baby, I'm so fly. Now let's some heads rockin', fists pumpin', ass shakin, feet stompin!"

Jaden rapped as he put his mic up into the air... but nobody partied. He wanted some fanfare! Some excitement! All they're going to do is cheer, and forget about him because of this limp display.

"What sick rhymes!" Andre shouted as he stepped on the stage. "But, it seems the spirit of the shark was no match for our rhymin' ninja! Jaden moves onto the maaaaaain event!"

The crowd cheered... and that was enough consolation for him.

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"And that wraps up the preliminaries!" Andre spoke into his microphone, as he ran across his center stage in style. "But, there's still a lot more action to go, boys and girls!"

The crowd loudly cheered.

"After this break, we'll be moving onto the maaaaaaaain event! So stay tuned!"

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Since Brooke's fight ended so quickly, and so anticlimactically, she had plenty of time to watch the other fights.

Then again, there was only one fight she was interested in. The fight that Margot was gonna do. She wanted to see her new blue friend in action, of course! Brooke ran over to the screens, and saw her fight with this big dude in armor. Looked like some kinda dragon. She caught the part where Margot pinned the dude's tail to the ground, and that looked so cool. Using her speed, Margot carved the dragon into pieces! That was so cool.

Though, she was disappointed that Margot actually got to fight. All Brooke did was tank a few blows, before the weird boobie woman ran off. Part of Brooke wondered just what was going through her head, before just shrugging it off.

After the fight ended, Brooke ran over to Margot.

"Yo, Blue, that was incredible!" Brooke complemented Margot. "Maybe I should start calling you Blue the Dragon Slayer! That does have a ring to it, right?"

She scratched the back of her neck.

"Better than my fight, though. I had to fight some weird boobie woman, who literally fought by swinging her ass at me," Brooke laughed... in retrospect, it was kind of funny. "Then ran off. The fuck was up with that."

She put one arm across her chest, and used her other to lightly push against it.

"Still... I appreciate the win and all... but what's a win if you don't have to work for it?" Brooke answered, "Is this what "'blue balls' feel like for fighters?"

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lucas lowered his arm and tried putting his hand into his pockets, only to remember that tights generally do not have pockets. He shuffled slightly as he took in their names, though he was quite certain after a few knocks to the head he'd forget them both.

"O-oh I'm not a f-fan I'm a..." Lucas trailed off and looked down, ashamed. With a sigh, as if the idea was just as preposterous to him as everyone else, he continued "A fighter." Lucas expected laughter so he tried to preemptively shut it down by showing he was no headstrong child with delusions of grandeur.

"M-my, uh, my dad was kind of i-insistent that I enter this tournament. L-look I'm not t-trying to prove myself here or anything I-I just want to take a q-quick loss and go home." Lucas stammered, as if he was sure they wouldn't believe him or something.

Lucas looked at the two of them once more, the machine gun women had lost her match he'd heard and he didn't know for sure about the man, this Brenton guy. Looking at the two of them though Lucas had sort of laid down the stamp of certainty on his prior belief that this would not be a fun experience for him physically.

woops

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"Wait, you're a fighter?" Justin had to ask, seemingly in disbelief.

This kid practically froze when faced with a real confrontation, he'd get slaughtered! Even if he was planning on losing, the amount of fighting spirit he had compared to everyone else was pathetic. He'd get destroyed regardless. This was just something that Justin found profoundly stupid. Even Seven-Seven agreed.

"That is just not going to do," Seven-Seven said, as she shook her head from side to side. "Your fighting spirit is suboptimal. The first hit you take, and you'll be critically injured. Possibly for life."

"So, if I were you, I'd bail out now," Justin crossed his arms as he looked at the boy. "If you're really that obsessed with getting in over your head, all you have to really do is fall off the stage to lose."

She gestured for Seven-Seven to come along with him as he walked away. Sadly, there wasn't much more for him here. While he wanted to get the kid out of here, the boy can make his own decisions. Plus, Justin and Seven-Seven had better things to do than babysit kids. Especially when it was only a matter of time until somebody came after them.

"Up to you, kid." Justin said as he put his hands in his pockets, and strolled on out of the building.

However, Seven-Seven lulled around for a few moments. She stared at Lucas, before she said,

"Good luck," She put up double peace signs, "Have fun!"

She ran out to Justin.

The two left through a side entrance, and scrolled on out. Justin just shook his head as he looked behind him, he slid up his hoodie. He groaned as he walked away; how could the two of them be so weak? They banked so much on getting something out of this, but no. They end up being jobbers.

They stepped onto the empty streets of Rio... and were intent on a quick disappearance into the crowd.

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A group of men and woman gathered outside the stadium.

Each a member of the very same gang that attacked the Nomads last night. Well, what was left of them. A lot of them were beaten up, or arrested, so that left their numbers low. Worst of all, their top fighter was arrested! So, that meant they aren't getting any prize money...

... Well, through legitimate means, that is.

They had a plan to get the money the hard way, and cement the Massacre Soldiers as the greatest gang in all of Brazil!

They gathered around the stadium, holding bags that contained bombs. They quickly entered the building, and set up the explosives around the building one at a time.

"Remember," The new "leader" of the gang said, "Don't set off the bombs until I can get the cash."

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The drone of the cicadas cry reverberated through the pillared confines of the forest like a strange wordless song. Even in the darkness of the moonless night the life that teemed inside the woods was apparent from the noise alone. Only fireflies could be seen glowing briefly in the black spaces between the trees, appearing and disappearing like wandering spirits. They were the only other source of light besides the aging candescent bulb hanging just outside the door.

A swine shaped incense burner sat by the entrance to the small home, the coil inside of it smoking and filling the air with an almost meditative scent. Despite the tranquil and noticeably mosquito free air a young girl sat in the doorway of the home wore a weary face. Her legs were crossed and her hands coiled around the string of a yo-yo, which she continuously unfurled and re-rolled. Somewhere behind her steam rose from a rice cooker and the blunt tapping of steel against wood occasionally clashed against the noises of the forest funneling through the open sliding door.

"Mama, please-"

Brown's hands cupped her yo-yo as she stared back into the kitchen where a women manned a stove. Red bento boxes were piled up on the counter beside her and steadily growing as she worked. Two distinctly vulpes ears stuck up out of the golden swath of hair rolling down her back, twitching merrily as she moved.

"No. No more complaints. I said I was going to pack you lunches for your trip and you were grinning like a cat. It's not my fault you assumed I was just going to hand you a single meal for a six day trip, to say nothing of the return trip. Like I would ever let you go hungry like that~♪"

The women's right arm did most of the work, swirling the contents of several pans, chopping ingredients, and neatly setting them out to be put into their respective lunch boxes while her other sleeve hung emptily from her shoulder.

"But if I'm late then I won't be able to enter. I'll have to wait another four years before they hold another event in Rio."

Brown's grip on the small, dark wooded yo-yo grew tighter while her mother simply shook her head.

"The tournament doesn't start for a week and it's not like the Rio tournament is the only major event going on this year. Waiting a day for me to pack you some actual food isn't going to kill you. If that was the case you'd have dropped dead the day you left here to become a nomad."

The kitsune women turned and grinned back at Brown, her brilliant bullion colored eyes shining with a happy radiance. Yet Brown couldn't return the smile and quickly broke eye contact, turning her gaze back to the darkness outside.

Her mother stopped, wincing slightly at what she saw.



Setting down her knife and clicking off the stove Brown's mother stepped from the kitchen. She strolled across their minuscule living room and knelt behind her, resting her palm on the top of her daughter's head.

"It's nothing I'm just worried about-"

"Brown."

Her mother's voice grew firm, empty of any anger.

"You shouldn't hide your feelings. You don't need to do that with me. You know that."

"Mama..."

Brown's head turned back, her eyes wet and bloodshot.



Her mother said nothing.

Leaning forward she wrapped her arm around Brown's waist and her daughter followed suit, coiling her arms around her mother's midsection while burying her face in her shirt.

Brown tried to contain herself, hoping to muffle the sound of her sobs or simply stop all together. Yet as soon as she felt the warmth of her mother's embrace tears began to pour down her cheeks, across the dark bags beneath her eyes.

The kitsune sat there amidst the cries of the cicadas and her daughter. Eventually her face hardened and she too turned her gaze to the blackness outside.

---

"I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.I'm not late.

Brown's mouth seemed to move as fast as her legs did, the bottoms of her leather boots cracking loudly against the pavement beneath her feet. She ran through the crowded streets leaving a wake of groans, shouts, and foreign slurs as people in front of her were knocked aside in her mad charge forward. The strange sounds and even stranger sights of the city around her seemed to go by in a blur as her vision narrowed and her senses sharpened.

Even through the disorienting buzz of the urban environment Brown could still distinctly hear the deafening roar of a bloodthirsty crowd in the distance. Her heart began to race and her speed skyrocketed, arms swinging like pendulums as the stadium came into view. Slamming her feet down Brown slid across the ground like an out of control race car, throwing up dust and stray rocks as her momentum carried her forward.

Brown came within a foot of crashing when her momentum broke and she came to a gentle stop directly in front of one of the sign up booths.

"I'm *gasp* Brown *gasp* Kasshoku and *gasp* I'm here to *gasp* register for the tournament."

Even through a crushing lack of breath Brown spoke with an audible excitement that left her whole body twitching. The booth runner, a dark skinned women with dreads behind a foot of chicken wire glass, smiled back at Brown.

"Sorry. You missed your chance!"

Brown froze, her eyes locking with the women behind the glass.

"What?"

"Final sign ups closed an hour or so ago and the preliminary rounds are essentially over. There's no way you can join the tournament."

The smile on Brown's face withered and her bouncing energy vanished. Her eyes were left wide and her hands clung to the counter of the booth, her grip leaving visible marks in the wood as it tightened.

"B-but I got here as soon as I could! My boat sank and then there were pirates, and a bunch of sharks, and a really weird Mexican man in a mask who started throwing sharks at the pirates-"

"That's nice. Well I'm on break now. Bye!"

A sliding steel shutter dropped down across the front of the booth with an uncaring slam. Brown was left staring at scratched steel plating as inside the stadium, just a few dozen feet away, she could hear the crowd begin to work itself up for the next fight.

Arms dropping to her sides Brown turned and walked aimlessly around the outside of the stadium. Her head hung and her eyes seemed empty. As soon as she found a bench Brown dropped into it and pulled the cord underneath her battered jacket, releasing the bento boxes from her back. Setting the stack beside her Brown grabbed a box from the top of the stack and popped it open.

Uramaki inside out sushi rolls, steak teriyaki, and hotdogs cut to look like little squids with smiling faces stared back up from the box at Brown mockingly. A hand written note on the inside of the box's top read "DO YOUR BEST~" with a tiny fox face beside it sucked away any appetite Brown might have had.

"I was late. I didn't even lose. I didn't even get a chance to compete. If I'd come just a few hours earlier then-"

Brown grit her teeth and fought back the urge to scream.

Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes.

"This isn't the end. It's just like mama said, there will be more tournaments to fight in. I should take the time to see who's competing and enjoy myself. Just because I can't compete doesn't mean I can't watch the fights. Getting inside without paying for entrance can't be that difficult."

Brown exhaled and grasped the bento box in her lap with renewed resolve. Even as she reassured herself everything was fine, the happy faces of the people around her made it difficult to feel good.

Fans riled up for the tournament.

Food vendors making a killing on the crowd.

Even the people sticking fat bricks of wire laden play-dough against the sides of the stadium seemed happy.

Brown sighed and turned back to her food.

Then she stopped.

Turning her head Brown returned her gaze to the men and women beside the stadium. Fat bags dropped from their shoulders as they squatted down, sticking what looked like bricks of weird colored clay against the support beams and outer perimeter wall of the stadium.

Getting up from her seat, placing her bento box down, Brown approached the nearest group of bag carriers and gave a small wave.

"Hi! I'm not from around here so I don't know the local customs or anything, but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be doing that."

The bomb planting thugs stood up and spun around. Whatever fear or edge they might have felt at possibly being caught evaporated as soon as they saw the pale, bag eyed girl standing in front of them.

"Are you fo' fuckin' real right now dog?" the largest and burliest of the group asked, a legitimate smile of amusement crossing his face as Brown stared back in uncertain confusion.

"Uhhhh, I'm not sure I understand the question. Also didn't I ask you a question? I don't think you answer-"



A fist like a brick collided with Brown's face and sent dropping flat onto her back. The linebacker built thug laughed and cracked his knuckles.

"Question answered, bitch. In fact, yo' about to get a whole lot mo' answers like that."

---

@Mr Allen J
The blackout lasted a few moments. The bright light of an EMT's flashlight brought Margot back to reality. After a quick examinations, she was released and allowed to exit under her own power. Margot walked off the stage in a bit of a daze, taking her bloodied weapons back without thinking, her tattered cape slung over her shoulder. Automatically she put them back into their sheathes. Brook nearly caught her by surprise in the hallway leading back to the lockers.

"Yo, Blue, that was incredible!" Brooke complemented Margot. "Maybe I should start calling you Blue the Dragon Slayer! That does have a ring to it, right?"

She turned and looked back at her and then back to the ring. "Oh, right. I hope he's okay. It would be a shame to have kill him." She turned and spotted a water fountain. "Keep talking, I'm just really thirsty." Listening to the grappler go on, she drank deeply, replenshing some of the water the dragon's attacks had made her sweat off.

"Better than my fight, though. I had to fight some weird boobie woman, who literally fought by swinging her ass at me," Brooke laughed... in retrospect, it was kind of funny. "Then ran off. The fuck was up with that."

She put one arm across her chest, and used her other to lightly push against it.

"Still... I appreciate the win and all... but what's a win if you don't have to work for it?" Brooke answered, "Is this what "'blue balls' feel like for fighters?"

Margot snorted at the last line, coughing up some water. "I can't say I know what'd that feel like. Some of the boys at E'cole would complain about it though. Though from how you described your opponent, was that choice of words deliberate?"

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lucas didn't smile back, instead making an effort too but the fear still extremely evident on his face. As Seven-Seven and Justin left, Lucas made a feeble attempt to wave back but they had already left by the time he worked up the courage to actually look in their direction.

Lucas sighed and looked back over to the monitor, his eyes then caught wind of the man from before, a soft cast around his hands as he gave Lucas a glare that quickly returned the fear in his heart. "I'm going to kill you." he mouthed with venom sending a shiver down Lucas' spine.

"I SAID I WAS SORRY!" Lucas said in a mixture of desperation and anguish, startling another burly fighter next to him who glared at Lucas with a frown.

"S-sorry." Lucas mumbled to the fighter next to him as he rolled his eyes and returned back to what he was doing. Lucas slid into a corner and shrunk down as small as he possibly could.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________



Justin and Seven-Seven made their way through the streets of Rio, their departure going unnoticed by the many fighters still present at the arena attempting to grab as much media attention as possible. They conversed among themselves as Seven-Seven suggested they might find some odd jobs around the market places where people were less likely to ask questions whilst in search for helping hands.

The duo continued towards one of the entrances into a particularly bustling market place, stalls with colourful banners selling various memorabilia, knock-offs and gaudy jewellery next to bored looking vendors stoically selling produce, clothes that looked like they were from goodwill and just about anything that could have a price tag slapped on it.

The two observed this for a moment before Seven-Seven remerged back to her cheery disposition, eagerly speaking of all the opportunities the two had as Justin looked around his new surroundings.

“I-..” Seven-Seven began but suddenly electricity began crackling around her body as she let out an involuntary cry of suprise. She tried standing upright or to begin moving but the electricity slowly brought her down to her knees as her inner workings and subroutines began firing up to find a way out of this predicament. Justin in surprise yelled out Seven-Seven’s name and rushed towards her, a sudden gunshot at his feet stopping him in his tracks. Justin stared towards the source of the firing and frowned as a man in a cowboy hat emerged from the shadows of a nearby alley. Justin looked back at where Seven-Seven was still incapacitated and noticed the sudden blue flicker of a now exposed electronic tripwire, he faced the perpetrator once more.

“Oh boy, another freakshow,” He began with a frown as the figure emerged fully. "You know, I was starting to get bored. I was just wondering what kind of gimmick the next one would have." They began circling one another as the market goers either fled or looked on at Seven-Seven and the two men. The attacker didn’t respond.

“So,” Justin looked around, he checked every corner. "Do you want directions to the Brokeback Mountain convention? Because it's right around the corner." He threw a thumb behind himself.

The attacker finally spoke, a low baritone that carried no real anger or malice to it.

"Funny guy. Some people want you dead. I’m just here to collect; nothin’ personal. It’s just business.”

Justin raised an eyebrow for a moment at the mention of him collecting the price on his head which quickly went back to a frown, he decided not to probe for who and find that out after he beat this clown.

“Wow, you're just as colorful as the others.” Justin snarked, the two still circling one another as the gunslinger twirled his revolvers around, which was really starting to annoy Justin. "By now, you would dramatically announce your name. So, what is it?"

“No.” the gunslinger said but for a moment he narrowed his vision at Justin and simply rolled his eyes, it didn't really matter.

“It’s Voyt.” he said simply.

"Voyt... let me tell you; aren't the first freakshow to come after us..." Justin began, winding his arm up. "... and you aren't going to be the last."

"You’d best shut up and draw.”

The two stopped and stared one another down. Shoppers and vendors alike began filling out, sensing that something very bad was about to happen. The sand swept across Justin and Voyt and for a moment, everything was still.

The two then broke out into a sprint towards one another.

---

Jack lunged at Gideon and Gideon frowned sternly, cranking back his fist. When Jack came close enough, Gideon stepped into his punch, his right fist soaring toward Jack’s face just as Jack’s left was soaring toward his. The two made contact with each other’s jaws, the force behind their strikes causing their entire skeletal frame to vibrate. Gideon lost all focus, his fist sliding from Jack’s face to limply fall. Jack’s fist had felt like steel, dislocating Gideon’s jaw. Jack’s head snapped back from the explosion of ki he felt leave Gideon’s fist like a cannon, and he staggered back a single step. Before the Adam could hit the ground, Jack pushed off his left foot, turning on his right as he brought it whipping around. The bridge of his left foot caught the side of Gideon’s head and sent the fighter spiraling into the wall of a shop. The wall exploded with brick that came down in a clunky shower. Dust billowed from the opening, rising like red and grey clouds as Jack lowered his foot. He grasped his jaw where Gideon had struck him and gave it a soothing rub.

“Is that it?” Jack asked his handler and guffawed. “This is who everyone was afraid of? I ended this fight in less than a minute. What do you want me to do with the body?"

Jack scowled at the news. “Why do you want to salvage this trash? The new Daedalus has made me far superior. I should be all that you need."

The brick mound shifted, causing Jack to whirl around in startle. Gideon sat up from the pile as brick and soot tumbled from his face and hair. He coughed from all the powder and wrinkled his nose as his jaw oddly snapped back into position. Opening and closing his mouth, giving his jaw muscles a function check, he shook the brick dust from his brown hair and muttered, “Like I said, you guys all say the same thing.”

His fist was hard, but not strong, Gideon mused. Grasping his neck next, Gideon rolled his head around, feeling the tendons in it pop. Lowering his hand, he inspected it, seeing the white bandages slightly tinged with blood and he was certain that it hadn’t been Jack’s. Frowning at his hand, Gideon’s grey eyes flicked up to Silvermane. “Your body is pretty sturdy. It felt like hitting steel.”

Jack frowned a little uncomfortably, seeing Gideon get back up. “Titanium…I’ll make sure you don’t get back up again.”

Patting dust from his pants as he stepped out of the brick pile, Gideon grasped his now red and dusty white hoodie and drew it up over his head. Tumbling down his torso was a red, white, and blue American-flag/tie-dye (couldn’t get anymore hippy), T-shirt that had printed on it, Fuck Yeah! The sight of the shirt made Jack’s eye twitch. It was not only extremely cheesy, but he couldn’t stand this American reject wearing it.

Face flushing red with anger, Jack pointed at Gideon and snarled, “You have no right to wear my country’s flag! You’re not even American!

Gideon peered down at his shirt as he dropped the hoodie and then arched a brow up at Jack. “It was a 5 dollar T-shirt. I call that a steal.”

“Yeah, well I’m gonna rip it off you!”

Gideon playfully smirked and turned his back to Jack. Undoing the belt at his hips, he lowered his pants and bent over, revealing his stars and striped printed boxers. Waving his ass around at Jack, he taunted, “You’re going to want these to, huh? 2 dollars! O Say Can You Seee~!”

Jack clapped a hand over his face in a hard face palm. How? This couldn’t have been the weapon everyone was so afraid of. He felt so embarrassed to fly all the way to Brazil just to fight this clown! This American imposter!

“This can’t be him…I have found only an imposter. My search continues, but first, I must deal with this fake Adam,” Jack told his handler. “…What do you mean what is he doing? He’s mooning me right now wearing our flag and singing our anthem! What do you mean that’s him!?!”

Jack stared at Gideon as though he was witnessing an absolute martial nightmare. He was created for this? He couldn’t believe it.

“That’s enough!” Jack exploded. “Fight me you genetic piece of shit!”

Pulling up his pants, Gideon pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes playfully at Jack in a silly/troll expression. “You mad?”

After securing his pants, Gideon faced the fighter and smirked. “All right; fine. No more playing around.”

Gideon paused as he felt a sudden wave of ki. He looked up to see a crotch falling toward him. A pair of legs passed around him, followed by a black suit divided down the center of a delicately muscled stomach. The weight of two massive breasts slammed down over his head, the ki they released driving his face into the brick-strewn pavement. The pavement shattered as his face made contact and a stiletto heel stabbed into the back of his head as a young woman with long auburn hair stood over him. The Russian peered back at Jack with a frown on her face and her fists clenched in a threatening manner.

“D’is ees not your fight, American,” Veronica, The Black Russian Swan warned him.

Jack recognized her accent to be Russian and scowled. “Molotok…you must be the Black Swan…” His mind betrayed him. Damn, she’s hot. Even she was able to take down Adam in a single blow…shit, why am I here?

Jack’s eyes then lowered from Veronica down to her feet, and he couldn’t help but frown awkwardly. Veronica frowned and glanced down at her foot noticing a watermelon under her foot and not Adam. Glancing from the melon down the alley, Jack and Veronica noticed Gideon low-crawling away. Blood was streaming down his face between his eyes from the spot Veronica’s sharp heel had made. Gideon paused in his escape when he felt eyes on him and peered over his shoulder with wide eyes.

“Shit…they noticed my escape,” Gideon muttered to himself.

Jack continued to clutch his head from the sheer stupidity he was witnessing. “We’re in an alley you dumbshit. Where are you gonna hide?”

Gideon then narrowed his eyes in contemplation. “You’re right…”

“Of course I’m right!”

“I need to go somewhere else.”

Gideon pushed off the ground back to his feet and bolted away from the two fighters.

“Oh come on! This shit again?”

Veronica frowned and stepping over the watermelon, she broke into a sprint after him. Jack sighed heavily in exasperation and followed after the two. Brazil was no longer feeling like a vacation. It had become torture with his current mission. Gideon left the alley back into the streets. His grey eyes darted about looking for a suitable space to fight his new opponent and Jack. He dodged around locals and tourists, shouting “Excuse me!” and “Pardon me!” The smell of salt brought to his mind the beach, and he smiled happily at the idea. There was nothing like a good visit to the beach. He hadn’t had a chance to see it since his arrival.

The two fighters temporarily lost the Adam in the crowd but were able to follow his ki to the Rio de Janeiro beach. There were several bare-ass tourists and locals playing in the sand and water. Some were sunbathing, playing music, and dancing.

Jack stopped at the edge of the sand and the pavement and searched around for Gideon. There were so many people but that cheesy American flag T-shirt was an eyesore and too difficult to miss. He found Gideon and Veronica sitting in the sand before the water, removing their footwear. Jack walked over to the two, and he gazed down at Gideon who was happily savoring the sight of the blue waters and sun.

“Are you done running?” Jack asked.

Gideon was seated with his hands at his sides and legs outstretched in the sand. He had removed his sneakers down to his bare feet and Veronica had done the same. Their feet would give them better traction in the sand. Veronica was sitting next to him similarly, also enjoying the sun and surf. She brushed a hand through her hair as she suggested to the American: “You should prepare yourself. Adam intends to show us his strength.”

Jack took a knee and laughed. “Oh, does he now? Let me get ready because it’s not like he’s wasted enough of my fucking time.”

Jack sat in the sand to Gideon’s right and removed his combat boots. Once he stripped his feet down to bare, he sat there not sure what they were doing. No one said anything for three minutes and Jack and Veronica found themselves actually appreciating the view, the peace, and the sounds of people having fun. Gideon thrust his arms into the air, causing Veronica and Jack to defensively leap and roll in opposite directions. Gideon reached his hands high into the sky, stretching his back and shoulders as he exhaled a large yawn.

“Haaa~h; this is making me want a nap,” Gideon said sleepily before he drew his legs in and rose to his feet. He patted the sand from the back of his cargo pants and walked toward the water, crossing and uncrossing his arms in a mild stretch. “All right; let’s get this over with.”

Jack uttered a short laugh. “Huh; all of a sudden you’re so fucking cocky.”

Veronica brought her hands behind her back and gave her ass cheeks two hard slaps to get the blood flowing into them. Jack gave her an awkward look and she smirked over at him. When Gideon stepped into the thin sheet of warm glistening sea water, he turned around to face Veronica and Jack. He slowly extended a hand toward them, inhaling deeply through his nose and breathing out deeply through his lips. He continued the breathing exercise as the fingers of his left hand curled into a large fist. His right hand rose diagonally across his chest until his right hand was positioned over his heart. Similarly, his fingers balled into a fist and he slowly drew his left arm back in toward his chest and extended his right arm out to where his left was. He continued the arm motions as his legs started to bend, lowering his stance a little. His feet were shoulder width apart and the water at his feet started to circle around him, following the same circles he was making with his arms. The style looked similar to Thai Chi and Wing Chun, but Jack couldn’t place it exactly. It was still too unique. Water lifted off the ground, spiraling around him like a crystal beaded necklace. The water spiraled above Gideon’s head until a red hue appeared beneath his feet and the water reflected the red ki. Gideon’s cheesy American shirt gradually became tighter as his muscles thickened and became more pronounced. The shirt was clinging to his body like a compression shirt by the time he was finished. His arms uncrossed and his fists lowered to his sides. Gideon exhaled his last breath and sternly regarded Jack and Veronica, his eerie eyes gleaming with determination.

“Red,” Gideon breathed and made no other move.

Jack actually felt a little nervous. The personality that was facing him was completely different from the one he had seen a moment ago. I guess the Russian’s right. He’s finally taking us seriously.

“I won’t hold back either then!” Jack declared. With a war cry, he raised his fist and slammed it into the dirt at his feet. From his fist up his body and down to his feet, his body shifted to a metallic color. His entire body became metal and he grinned wickedly at Gideon as he drew his fist from the sand. “I guess I’ll go fi-”

The Black Swan was already racing toward the Adam. She started the fight in a series of hip swings. Jack growled and followed right behind her. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so competitive to outdo the Russian. Adam hadn’t been anything spectacular—at least not to the level Daedalus had hyped him up to be. Gideon had stepped back from her hip swings until Veronica whirled, rising out of her hunched over state to drag her chest across Gideon’s. The friction sparked a streak of fire across it, scorching a large hole in Gideon’s shirt as she shouted:



Gideon’s face hardened with anger. His cheap awesome shirt was ruined, and he seemed to care more about that than the burns that had reddened the skin on his chest. A shining silver fist rushed toward his face, and he tilted his head just in time to have Jack’s appendage pass over his shoulder. Veronica was forced to twirl out of the way of Jack’s sudden advance, and she glared at the American. She would take him and Gideon down if she had to. Gideon’s left arm rose to lock about Jack’s right, while it was over his shoulder. Jack cursed, immediately noticing the trap he was in. He felt Gideon’s foot position behind his in an attempt to drop him on his back, and he stepped back with his other foot to prevent him from succeeding. His metal body didn’t make it easy for the Adam to bend him over as any normal human would have from the loss of balance and unnatural pressure being added to the spine.

Veronica charged both fighters with a barrage of butt thrusts.



Gideon, keeping a strong grip on Jack’s trapped arm, lurched forward, tugging the metal man into a turn. Jack cursed under his breath, feeling Gideon’s inhuman strength swing him like a metal club into Veronica. He struck her like a bat. Veronica felt the metal man slam into her hip to send her spinning into the sand. Gideon kept turning, turning Jack like a discus thrower preparing to throw. Gideon twirled toward Veronica where she was lying face down and slowly recovering, and using the momentum of his turn his hand released Jack’s arm to motion down to the hip that wasn’t abreast with his own. Gripping Jack’s pants, Gideon used his shoulder and cheek to trap Jack’s arm again. One more turn and Gideon kicked Jack’s legs out from under him. Both fighters rose off the ground, feet flying into the air as their backs fell toward the ground. Veronica gasped and quickly rolled to the side just out from under Gideon and Jack as they crashed into the sand. Sand erupted around the impact of their landing. The Russian agent stared at Gideon a little disturbed that he had nearly managed to use Jack to flatten her while she was down. Her hip was still throbbing from the assault and she began to wonder if two fighters fighting Gideon at the same time was a bad idea. She was certain that he was going to use Jack against her again, and she couldn’t afford to give him that opportunity.

As Veronica continued to watch Jack and Gideon, she noticed that Gideon’s focus was no longer on her, but on Jack. Gideon was keeping Jack’s arm pinched between his cheek, shoulder, and now the ground. Their arms that were pinned beneath their bodies and the sand couldn’t do much. Jack tried to throw a punch toward Gideon’s face, and he motioned his hand inside the punch, pushing it aside with the back of his hand before attempting to extend his own punch toward Jack’s face. Jack bowed his forehead, catching the punch against his cranium and a metallic hum rang from the contact. Jack felt his head snap back from the explosion of red ki that shot through it, and Gideon followed it up with a second blow to the metal man’s chest.



Jack’s metal body flashed red and the sand around them leapt into the air again. A forced gasp escaped Jack’s lips as Gideon’s fist left a large dent in his chest cavity. Gideon was about to strike him again while he was stunned, when he noticed a shadow looming over them followed by a cry:



Gideon swiftly rolled to the side as Veronica’s burning butt landed on Jack’s head like a meteor. There was another geyser of sand, and by now, the fight had drawn an audience. Gideon quickly returned to his feet and glanced around at the several onlookers who were watching, recording, and cheering on the battle. They didn’t seem to understand the danger they could possibly be in and didn’t seem to care. The battle to them was like having the Brazilian Cup right there on the beach.

As the sand settled, Veronica was seen wincing as she sat on Jack’s face. It didn’t feel good when ass met metal and she was thankful that The Maker had given her such a tough posterior. She rocked forward, lifting her butt from the depression it had made and with a hand on her lower back walked away from him much like an old woman. The fight was ruining her lower back and it was all due to Jack’s involvement. The damn American.

When Jack sat up, it was revealed that Veronica’s meteor butt had been hot enough to melt an ass cheek depression on his metal face. Gideon’s hand immediately slapped over his mouth as his eyes near popped from their sockets with surprise. He exploded with laughter, sinking to his knees and then collapsing in a fit of tears. Jack stared over at him in shock and confusion and then reached up to feel the odd depression that had been left on his face. If the metal man could blush, he would have been glowing red in embarrassment. His eyes went wide as he glared over at Veronica.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY FACE!?” Jack screamed.

Veronica was rubbing her back soothingly when she frowned back at Jack. “Serves you right, Ass Face. Stay out ov’ my fights wit’ Adam.”

Gideon gasped for air, grasping his chest. “Ah, I think-I think…(gasp) I’m going-I’m going to…die!”

His face was hurting from grinning so much and his guts were aching from his laughter. If they couldn’t kill him through a fight, they could surely kill him with laughter. Jack’s furious bellow silenced Gideon temporarily. Gideon grasped his mouth and gazed over at the raging fighter. His ki had spiked to a worrisome level.

“Enough!” Jack roared.



Jack extend his arms to his left and right, fingers and thumbs joined, and his arms transformed into metal blades. He pointed his right bladed arm toward Gideon and his left toward Veronica and his arms instantly elongated. Gideon felt the blade pass through his stomach and out his back. Blood dumped from his mouth as his hands grasped Jack’s right arm to keep it from moving anywhere else. He slowly stepped back from the blade, feeling its sharp edges slice further into him. The sight of blood sent the crowd screaming and scattering. Only a few remained behind to gawk. Baring his blood-stained teeth, Gideon managed to slide free of Jack’s blade and his stomach and back folded into itself, sealing the wound closed. He dropped to a knee, continuing to grip Jack’s arm as his body rerouted blood flow to his organs. Gideon coughed up more blood and glared furiously at the metal fighter. He hadn’t been fast enough to dodge the assault while using his Red techniques.

Veronica, on the other hand, had bent backwards into a bridge. The blade passed between her jostling breasts as she paled a little from having nearly been impaled.

“I will skewer both of you!” Jack hollered.

He retracted his bladed arms and elongated them again, rapidly slashing at the two fighters, cleaving clothes and flesh from their bodies. Gideon rose his forearms before his chest and stomach in a guard as his clothes came apart around him. Red, white, and blue shreds stained in blood scattered all about him along with the black material of his cargo pants. Veronica screamed as her black suit burst in an explosion of shreds. Jack immediately halted his assault when he noticed Veronica’s lacy bra and panties, cupping her curves like sweet cream pudding. The Russian agent laid on her side with an arm protectively covering her breasts and her hand hiding her privates. Her underwear was all she had left to preserve her dignity. Jack would have been blushing madly if he hadn’t been covered in metal. Seeing her lying there like a super model in the sand would have given him a nosebleed. Tearing his eyes from her, he frowned down at the sand: “I’m not gonna rob you of your underwear, but I will make you pay for what you did to my face!”

Jack glanced back at Veronica and noticed her lengthy auburn hair. Smirking, he raked his blade across her hair and Veronica’s blue eyes shrank in horror when she felt her silky mane tumble like a blanket about her shoulders. Gideon was on his hands and knees in the sand, trembling from the hundreds of red cuts that streaked his body. Jack had managed to get his wish and had ripped his American shirt right off of him...but he didn't have to take his pants too. All he had left were his ridiculous American flag boxers, and he wasn't about to let Jack destroy those too. He grinned in amusement at Veronica’s new look and raised a hand in her direction, giving her a thumbs up.

“It makes you look manlier,” he complimented.

Veronica released her bosom to grasp handfuls of her chopped hair. Her hands shook with growing anger and Gideon cursed under his breath when he felt her ki spike.

Not another one. he thought. He barely survived Jack’s last attack. If he wanted to live to see tomorrow, then he knew this battle needed to end.

“Я уничтожу вас! (Ya oo-neech-toe-joo vas/I will destroy all of you! (in this context))” Veronica screamed.

The Russian with the boy haircut sprang to her feet and started running. She leapt once more throwing out her hands as she flipped into a series of handsprings. Her body became a blur of motions that circled around Gideon and Jack. The air churned in the center of the circle, causing sand to rise into a blinding abrasive twister. Gideon squinted through the twister, trying to keep track of the blue ring of ki that rose around them. The attack Veronica had been summoning Gideon suspected wasn’t going to be directed at him, and he had to get there before she was done. Gideon rose to his feet and charged through the tornado. The sand made it difficult to breathe and was burning his skin as it eroded it slowly. He continued to run until the blue line of ki that had formed a ring turned into a path that curved into the circle. Gideon intercepted the blue beam that had been heading toward Jack.



Veronica’s ass met with Gideon’s chest. His arms were at his sides, feet shoulder-width apart, and fists clenched as he absorbed the impact. The tornado burst around them, spiraling between Veronica’s ass and Gideon’s chest. Jack, who was just behind Adam, gawked in confusion, unsure if Gideon was trying to save him or…what the hell was going on? Veronica’s eyes were wide in terror. Gideon hadn’t been her intended target. His grey eyes were fierce and glinting as he absorbed the brunt of her super attack. Her ass cheeks gave against his hard chest, and there was no way she could spring away in time.



Gideon bellowed and a cannon-like explosion of red ki slammed into Veronica. The Russian agent was thrown in a red twister that shot her out to sea. The ocean parted around the ki missile before it leisurely closed back up. Jack’s mouth hung open in pure shock and awe to have seen Gideon dispose of the Molotok agent so soon. Gideon twisted around toward Jack with his right fist raised and teeth clenched like a wolf. A red ki flashed beneath his feet, then a white one, and then a blue one.



Jack thrust his bladed arms at Gideon, watching them pass through what looked like an afterimage. His spoon-like face was struck by a powerful fist that rocked his entire body with ki. A second fist followed, slamming into his chest, then a third, fourth, fifth, the strikes were rapidly hammering his metal body into a malformed metal figure. He felt the ki filling his body and eagerly wanting to escape. He began to swell like an over-pressurized can as the ki within him expanded, turning him into a complete twelve-foot sphere before Gideon’s final punch caused him to detonate in an unusual explosion. Red, white and blue fire bloomed into the air amidst a shower of star-like sparks.

Gideon lowered his pulsing arms, hanging his head as he panted heavily. He had managed to halt his bloodloss, but it was taking all of his energy to do so. He dropped to his knees and sat back on his calves as he took a moment to catch his breath. His fight was over…for now. He found himself to be in quite the predicament. If he didn’t hide his ki, then more agents would more than likely follow. He didn’t expect Molotok to send anyone brand new. As far as he knew, Veronica was their main experiment and no matter how many times he killed her, he knew he would see her again. But for now, he didn’t have to worry about her.

Gideon collapsed on his side, his body feeling heavy. I’ll just lie here for a while and focus on keeping myself alive. He had to conserve the remainder of his energy and couldn’t afford to spend it hopelessly seeking out a hospital or clinic. His body shrank down into a bloodied child as he laid there curled up in the sand.

Meanwhile, Veronica opened her eyes to find her body drifting through an ocean of blue. She was underwater, and the sea reminded her of her tank back in the lab. Gideon had defeated her. He was still stronger than what her and the American had expected. She wondered what had happened to him; the American. She didn’t sense any ki, but then again, she might have been knocked out to sea further than she expected. She couldn’t believe he had used her own attack against her. A dark triangular silhouette appeared in the blue distance. It swirled around her, prowling ever closer until its grey and white skin and cleaver-like fin could be seen. Veronica smirked as the shark came closer. It must have been lured by her blood. She gazed into its triangle-tooth grin as it opened its mouth and clamped down on her torso, ripping it clean from the hips. The water darkened with blood as the shark whirled around again to chomp down her hips, and then the legs that kicked and spasmed.

Yeong-Suk straightened her tie as she marched back into the lobby, as the proud victor of her very first tournament match. All of her training, all the pain and suffering it took for her to get to this very moment, was vindicated. A small smirk betrayed the otherwise emotionless Korean, a small gesture of pride in the fact that Yeong-Suk proved herself to her handlers. This tournament was hers to win, and nothing in the world will prevent her from taking what she deserved.

Still, there was going to be a lot of time before the next match began. The small woman glanced around; there wasn't anything all that interesting going on. To her left she could see that robot she defeated, "Andrea", trying to console some kid with... a cyborg? Well, that is a bit out of the ordinary, she had to admit, but it's probably for the best that she doesn't get herself involved in that mess. There is no way she could eavesdrop on what they're saying without looking super conspicuous, and even if Yeong-Suk knew she could take on the robot, she'd prefer not to confront Andrea while there was so many witnesses around. It could potentially get ugly fast, especially with the addition of the cyborg. If she needs to track down the robot, Yeong-Suk could do it on her own time, in a more incognito fashion. Just let that sleeping dog lie.

The Korean walked right by the three, paying no further attention to them. She, in fact, went through the entire crowd, silently sidestepping conglomerates of people. There was likely nothing for her there but overpriced food and a bunch of idiots. Might as well go for a walk, or get slightly less overpriced food of a much higher quality down the street. Probably no gogigui or the like, but you'll never know what you'll find in a city like Rio...

"Maaaaaaan, all these scrublords are polluting the clean air. It smells like cheetos and dick-sweat in 'ere!" Jaden loudly groaned, not giving a single damn that everyone in earshot could hear him. Of course, he implored them to try and shut him up, but as always, they just grumbled. "Gonna go for a walk!"

He walked towards the door, and was outside in a few moments. Ahhhhh, fresh air. Not the smell of jobbers and other losers. He wasn't even happy that he won! He just got some fuckboy from the middle of nowhere who tried to act tough! What was up with that? The tournament organizers probably thought Jaden was some scrub. He took big steps as he looked around. Maybe get something to eat! It is Brazil, after all. It ain't as good as Japanese food, but it was close!

Just as Yeong-Suk was about to pick a random direction and just walk, she saw a weirdly dressed man walk pass her. Even for Rio. He was equipped with no less than three swords, two on his back and one on his hips, in an obvious imitation of those sadistic, imperialist samurai. However, what really messed with Yeong-Suk, besides the fact he was clearly not even Japanese and yet glorified their horrendous warcrimes, was that the ki signature on one of the swords was completely abnormal! As inanimate objects made of non-organic material, it should not be radiating as much ki as a living being. Yet, there it was, almost as brightly blue in Yeong-Suk's artificial eye as the wielder himself.

In no universe was she going to just let this man walk away. Nobody should be carrying living swords around in this city so casually, and not have something up with them. Yeong-Suk decided she was going for that walk after all, but not just any regular one. The Korean decided instead to shadow the man, following his every footstep at the speed that he is going at.

"... When the MCs came to live out the name and to perform. Some had to snort cocaine to act insane before Pete Rock-ed it on. Now on with the mental plane to spark the brain with the building to be born...."

Jaden sung the song to himself as he walked up to a food stand! He could go to a restaurant, but nobody got time for that! Especially when his next match would be in a little bit. Not with a care in the world, Jaden walked up to the stand, with a finger raised in the air. "Braised chicken with bananas, please." Shit sounded wack. Chicken and Bananas? This shit had to be seen to be believed! Then again, "don't knock it, until you try it."

If he ignored the things you shouldn't try like child molestation, and cannibalism.

Maybe Yeong-Suk was overestimating the capabilities of her target. His attempt to perform music, charitable to even call it that, was void of any sort of artistical statement beyond... something to do with cocaine? About the only interesting thing she learned through that lyrical catastrophe was that, given the option to sing in any language, he chose English instead of Portuguese. Clearly, he was not a native of the area, and he even sounded vaguely American.

Fucking yankees, Yeong-Suk protested internally as the man she was stalking pulled up to a common food vendor. She guessed that he wanted to try the local food and all of it's... interesting flavors. Normally, she would pass on that, and just find something from back home, but if she wanted to not look like a creep, looks like she is going to be forced to get in line and order something off that menu too.

"I'll have the," Yeong-Suk spoke to the vendor, most likely slurring every single word of Portuguese and getting the tenses wrong. "Uh.... whatever he got..."

A strange look from the vendor later, and the Korean woman was greeted with an inedible looking mess of breaded chicken and cut bananas. She painfully sighed as she started to eat whatever the hell she did order.

"..... Heeeeeeeey, you want to try it with me?" Jaden said, before he turned to the woman, and that cocky smile flipped upside down. She was this militaristic chick who was Asian, and also wore some kinda uniform. Jaden couldn't pin down the origins, but he knew that if he just passed it off as some nobody country, it would end badly for him. Very badly for our ninja superstar! It sure as hell wasn't coincidence that she approached him. Worse case, he'd knock her ass out, and leave her in a dumpster somewhere while he won the tournament. But, he had to play it cool. He got his food, and dug in with a fork!

"So, uh," Jaden started off, he kept his eye on the girl. Just in case he had to teleport out, or give her a ninja-chop! "How are you, baby? Like your little uniform." He awkwardly tried to make small talk.

Well there goes that plan. And any remaining respect Yeong-Suk had for this man. Two sentences and she could already tell this person had the intellectual capability of a troglodyte. Then again, considering the samurai set-up, she guessed it should have been already obvious.

Might as well keep this cordial and not have this blow up on her face. She nodded at the man's compliment. "I have a few questions for you, sir. Let's go for a walk."

"Questions?" Jaden nervously asked. "Now, ya' sound like a cop."

It'd be better if he got her out of sight in case it popped off! Jaden knew that a fight outside the stadium would raise attention, but a back alleyway? Not a problem.

"Aw, alright, lead the way, Ms..." Jaden trailed off, as an indirect way of asking for her name.

"Chung Yeong-Suk, Democratic People's Republic of Korea," the woman said, keeping her diplomatic facade. She started walking in the direction that Jaden was already heading towards before stopping at the vendor. Would be easier to get him to cooperate if she accommodated him somewhat.

"So," she started off, "your name would be appreciated, sir."

... Huuuuuuuuh?

Fuckin' Korea? Last he checked, they hated Japan! But, that didn't mean they wouldn't want the superweapon hangin' off his hip, so he needed to keep his guard up!

"... Andrew Othello," Jaden gave the woman a fake name. "Great to meet ya' Yeong-Suk! What kind of questions you had for me?"

"I noticed that you have a sword that, well, is alive. Or, at the very least, radiates ki as-if it was alive. The distinction doesn't matter. I want to know where the hell you got that, seeing as I doubt you just bought it off of Amazon," Yeong-Suk almost casually replied.

"Ahhhh, so you have a ki-sense?" Jaden made it clear to voice his knowledge of the subject. That he wasn't stupid. Still, he had to keep his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted to do was scream 'I have the legendary blade, Murakumo!' at the top of his lungs. "And this sword...?"

He started off.

"Well, it's a long, and tragic tale... that I don't think you care about. This right here is the sword of heroes! An Japanese blade that has the souls of heroes from all over Asia!" Jaden bullshitted hard as he possibly could... and he knew that a sword like that probably existed. Somewhere. "That ki you're sensing is their ancient power."

"Whether I have a ki-sense or not is irrelevant to this conversation," the Korean woman retorted. "I am the one asking the questions here, not you."

"Alright, kay, kay," Jaden felt like she had some weird dominance streak. Hey, she could be Kim Jung Hard-Un's personal BDSM mistress.

Yeong-Suk nodded as she listened to what sounded less as an explanation and more of a sales pitch by a used swordsman dealer. Still, there was an obvious hole in the story that this man was telling.

"If there is the souls of multiple fighters in that sword, how come there is only one ki signature from the blade?"

"Because they merged together?" Jaden said, as he tried to sound unsure. "I don't know, ki's weird." He shrugged.

"I am going to save you from the hole that you are digging yourself," the ravenette forcefully replied, "Ki doesn't work that way. Souls just don't 'merge' together by being placed in the same container." To emphasize her point, she lifted up her foot, encasing it with her own body's ki. After making it expressively sure that the mysterious man saw it, she lifted the foot down and made the ki dissipate.

"I suggest you tell me the truth".

"Well, I suggest that you back off," Jaden dropped into stance as he reached over his shoulder, and pulled out a blade. "I can tell you're a strong warrior, and I really don't want shit to do with ya' so would ya' please go bug somebody else?" Jaden said, as he took a few steps away.

"Not even taking the living sword out? Disappointed, Andrew." She readied herself into the traditional taekwondo stance. "I don't want to fight you either, but an idiot like you doesn't carry a ki-enfused sword and not have a story to tell. Last chance."

"Idiot?" Jaden grinned as he stared the woman down. Ready for action. "Sorry, sweetheart, I ain't the kind of person who spills all their secrets to complete strangers! It ain't like you gonna tell me all the kinky shit your glorious leader is into."

He drew the other blade, and aimed it at Yeong-Suk, without a single word leaving his lips. He made his actions the indicator that he wasn't gonna back down to this weird Femi-Nazi ass bitch. In fact, he wanted to show this loser how much he thought about her soldier-girl act.

"Be that way," Yeong-Suk resigned herself as she slammed her foot into the ground. A slab of the pavement instantly shot up into the air, and the Korean woman did a roundhouse at it, sending it hurling towards "Andrew".

Jaden grinned. So, her little gimmick is Earth, ain't it? He had an idea of how to beat her, but he knew that, with her ki, she was not going to be easy. Though, she had him pegged as an idiot, instead of the martial arts prodigy he is! He jumped up into the air, he was curled up into a ball as he rolled midair. The rock went under him, and Jaden quickly changed positions. A more natural posture, as he extended one leg. It was quickly infused with his ki as it glew with a light. He dove straight for the woman, doing a badass dive kick.

Yeong-Suk blinked as the slab of concrete harmlessly flew under his wild jump. So, the idiot was a martial artist after all. Now he was coming down at her, in a furious divekick. Yeong-Suk decided to stand her ground, and instead kicked in place, firing a sickle-shaped blast of energy straight at her opponent, hoping that it would throw him off-guard during his attempt to divekick.

"God daaa-" Jaden could only say as he collided with the wave of ki. He went straight into it. So, as it turned it out (again), she knew some ki blasts. Heh. Jaden could handle it like it was nothing! He rolled when he hit the ground, before he hopped up to his feet with ease. He kept that grin on his face. He charged Yeong-Suk head on, with both blades in his hands. A seemingly stupid attack, but he was actually trying to draw out some of her moves.

Great, now the idiot was charing at her. Unlike her previous fight with Seven-Seven, the small woman knew her advantage in this fight laid in playing keep-away until he left himself vulnerable to attack. She needed to dissuade her attacker from approaching any further, while also getting some distance in. Yeong-Suk took a jump backwards, enfusing ki into her foot while in the air. When she landed, she slammed her foot into the ground, calling forth Queen Baji's Fury. A fissure summoned forth jagged rocks to rupture from the pavement, costing hundreds of dollars worth of property damage as the stones went barreling towards the ninja.

Jaden grinned even wider. Just what he was expecting! What was she taking him for? Some scrub? Well, Jaden was going to show her just how badass he is! He hopped up in the air, and landed on one of the stone pieces, and used his ninja skills to jump from one to the other. And in a few seconds, he was out of the storm. He smiled like a madman as he swung both blades at Yeong-Suk.

"What the-" was all Yeong-Suk could stammer as she watched the ninja completely avoided her attack by jumping over the rocks. She attempted to back away again, but her moment of confusion proved to be a second too long, as Jaden was right on top of her. All she could do was raise her arms in an X formation as they dug themselves into her arms.

The ravenette groaned in pain as the steel blades buried themselves into her flesh. Whoever this person is, they certainly keep their blades in pristine condition. At a complete loss of what to do, Yeong-Suk fired a kick, aimed directly at Jaden's groin. If he was going to keep himself on top of her, she will make him pay for it.

"Mah balls!" Jaden shouted in pain as he took the sudden whip kick from this crazy bitch. Tilting forward a bit. However, Jaden quickly recovered and did a badass backwards flip to put distance on this crazy ass girl.

Perfect. Andrew was retreating on his own prerogative. Still, Yeong-Suk took the oppritunity to pace herself backwards, keeping the bloody ninja as far away as possible. Now it was time to strike again. She kicked more sickle blasts at her opponent, making sure to back away after every blast.

"Man, fuck this shit." Jaden said in response to the onslaught of ki coming towards him. It would surely wreck his shit if he stood there like a moron. Fortunately, for Jaden... he knew how to play dirty. Fair fights don't exist after all, and she definitely had no intentions of fighting fair! So, why waste time trying? While he hated showing off all his tricks... when this is over, this bitch is going to be in a dumpster somewhere. And by the time she wakes up, Jaden would be long gone.

"Hehe... not bad, kid."

Jaden quickly did the Japanese warrior salute, and disappeared in a cloud of grey smoke. When he reappeared, he appeared right behind Yeong-Suk. He quickly delivered a kick straight to her back. Hard enough to get her to fall over. Then all he had to do was knock her ass out.

One second, there was a cloud of smoke, and the next, Yeong-Suk was on the ground, groaning once more as her everything flared in absolute agony. What the fuck was that, the agent protested internally as she forced herself up to her feet.

Fighting this out was clearly not going to work; another solid hit like that, and she would probably be dead. She was going to have to do Plan B. Using the last of her energy, Yeong-Suk encased her feet with blue energy, and dashed straight at the ninja with the blistering speed of the white deer. When she got close, instead of stopping, she ripped the blade at Jaden's side right out of its sheath and just continued to run as fast as she possibly can, far far away from this stupid yankee idiot.

"Yo, yo, yo!" Jaden shouted, not angry, but concerned. "WAIT!"

LIttle did Yeong-Suk know, the sheath the blade was within was merely means to keep its power under control. Without it... it was, well, dangerous to handle. The spirit within the blade enhanced her ki... but it was also taking her over. Yeong-Suk quickly realized that as the spirit blade overridden her thoughts, and all it wanted was...

... Destruction.

The Korean's once battle-hardened expression erupted into a slasher smile, and Yeong-Suk started laughing dementedly. "EVERYTHING..... MUST..... FALL...," the woman said as she lost the battle of possession to the sword's lust for destruction. She started to slash everywhere around her in the air, attacking cars, streelights, anything that she could possibly destroy. Even her opponent started to escape her mind as the possessed Yeong-Suk was more focused on wantondestuction in general, although likely some blasts were directed at him.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" Jaden repeated to himself over and over again as the situation rapidly spiraled out of control. Crazy bitch got even crazier when she was possessed by the demon (Or was it the dragon, or spirit blade, Jaden didn't fuckin' know). It reminded him of the destruction of Jotaro's compound. Fact of the matter was; she was going to destroy Rio, and it would all be Jaden's fault.

Unless...

Jaden unsheathed his blades as he leaped out of the way of one of those deadly ki blasts.

... He'll stop her, of course, and save the day!

---

---

"Show me what you can do!"

Justin roared as he charged Voyt head on. It was seemingly a stupid move, but he had the feeling that his friend Voyt here would be more perceptive than he let on. If he heard of Justin, he would know that he had a lot of tricks in his pocket.

Voyt fired as he ran towards Justin, remaining eerily quiet as Justin let loose a battle cry. He fired both his revolvers at rapid speed forcing Justin to begin ducking and weaving with inhuman speed to avoid the shots, Voyt halted suddenly and aimed one of his revolvers directly at the head of the still charging Justin, firing with an audible bang. Time seemingly stood still as the bullet slowed it's approach, zeroing in on Justin's temple. With an act of extreme focus and speed Justin moved his hand with his fingers extended, knocking the bullet to the side and putting it off its trajectory as he continued charging towards Voyt. Justin slammed into Voyt with a cracking thud, sending the gunslinger flying into a nearby building and clean through the wall, causing anyone inside to flee in terror.

Hmph. Justin just knew he was dealing with another one trick pony here. Without his guns, he didn't have a whole lot to offer, did he? After Voyt went through the wall, Justin was quick to follow. Launching himself through the opening he made with a single beat-pulse. During his time in MAVERICK, he was taught to always confirm the kill. Or in this case, the KO. He came to a skidding stop as he searched for Voyt. Now I wish I could ki-sense. Justin thought to himself.

A shot rang from Justin's side as a bullet pierced itself into his shoulder, thanks to ki and his cybernetic parts it wasn't a shot that would incapacitate that arm but it hurt like hell, Justin clutched his arm and faced the direction of the shot, only to see Voyt fly in through the smoke of the debris and tackle him. The two collided into an adjacent wall and Justin moved his head to avoid another shot from Voyt who was quick to follow it up by slamming the side of his pistol into Justin's head. Justin charged forward with Voyt still on top of him, the two running through a wall as he threw Voyt into a kitchen. Voyt got to his feet and threw a table at Justin who shattered it with a single sound blast, though it was merely a diversion for another shot to pierce into Justin's leg, he yelled again and the two got up close and personal, attacking one another with devastating strikes as they slammed each other into the various kitchen appliances strewn across the room. In this enclosed space Justin tried once more to charge at Voyt who ducked and threw Justin overhead through a window and back into the market place, the Gunslinger quickly followed his target out into the open.

Uuuuuggggh! Justin came to an ungraceful rolling stop right back out in the marketplace. He hit the ground at least six times, but that was the least of his worries. He was shot several times already, and these weren't no average bullets he could tank. They had to be ki-charged. He pushed himself up to his feet, as he realized Voyt was right on top of him. He grit his teeth again, as his arm underwent a slight transformation as many vents and mechanics opened open. His arm was glowing blue with ki. He rushed towards Voyt to meet the challenge, swinging his fist upwards.

"Uppercut!" Justin screamed.

Voyt charged into the blow, making its devastating impact all the worse, he flew several feet away from Justin and thudded painfully several times against the sandy floor, only stopping when he collided with a nearby stall. Were it not for his high amount of ki voyt would most likely not have a head anymore. Hmph, this guy is stronger than I'd have hoped Voyt conceded in his mind, it was rare he underestimated a target and he believed this was no different, but perhaps desperation from being tracked worked more in Justin's favor than Voyt had hoped, never the less he was quite pleased at this. It was an enjoyable fight, his jaw was still in place and he could bargain for more money when the job was completed. Voyt got to his feet and stared back at Justin, a rare statement and rarer complement escaped him. "You're pretty good." he said simply, reloading his guns even though he really didn't need to.

"... Wouldn't have lasted this long if I wasn't." Justin replied, as both of Justin's arms underwent the same transformation. He decided to stop chit-chatting, as he pointed an open palm at Voyt, and fired a blast of pure ki-infused sound at him. A quick moving blast. "Sonic-Beat!"

Voyt understood that guys like Justin tended to have plenty of tricks up their sleeves, he was quite the fan of forcing them to expose each and ever one of them. Voyt decided to show a few of his, using ki and genetic infused agility Voyt dodged the blast as it collided into the stall and building behind him. Crushing the stall against the building and shatter its windows. Voyt recovered extraordinarily quick and tossed a grenade low at Justin, quickly hitting the hammer of his revolver to fire at the grenade close to Justin.

"Sh-" The grenade went off, and side Justin flying backwards as the explosive force rammed him against a wall. Which left his cybernetics further damaged. He was fine... but, if the fight kept going this way, then he won't be. Still, he was confident in his abilities as he took down people like Voyt before... he'd just have to try harder. He hopped to his feet, and faced down Voyt. He waited for his next attack... he had an idea that could change the course of this fight in an instant.

Voyt stared as Justin got his bearings and made it back to his feet. He stared down Voyt and Voyt very clearly figured he was waiting to see what else Voyt would do, this wasn't his first contract and it certainly wasn't going to be his last. He aimed at Justin and continued firing his revolvers to keep up the pressure and keep anymore secrets up his sleeve for later use.

"Pfft..." Justin had no choice but to tank the shots. They hit him all over his chest area, and he grunted as his limbs transformed. "... Beat-Pulse." He lowly said as a blast of sound propelled from through the air. However, he was aiming towards a wall. In which he fired another blast of sound that propelled him to another wall. Bouncing wall to wall in a very confusing and hard to follow manner.

Voyt tried to shoot Justin but his erratic movement coupled with his sudden burst of speed made that easier said than done, Voyt was good but generally his targets didn't move this fast. As he pondered this Justin kicked him with a glowing blow that sent Voyt crashing into another stall, knock-off watches flying high into the air. Voyt coughed slightly as he struggled back to his feet, unlike Justin he was no cyborg and the physical toil was rapidly catching up to him. As he struggled back to his feet, Voyt suddenly collapsed back down in a heap.

Justin let a smirk escape him but quickly shook it off, the fight was never finished until it was. He began making his way towards Voyt, his arms changing back to regular fists to beat the gunslinger down a little more if necessary. "What happened?!" Justin shouted, "Finally bit off more than you can chew, Voyt?!"

As Justin approached Voyt's foot suddenly shot up, sending a hefty dose of sand into Justin's face. Justin instinctively blocked his eyes as Voyt suddenly kipped back up to his feet to reveal he'd been playing possum. Voyt hit Justin with a savage kick square between his chest, sending Justin tumbling back. Just recovered quickly and dusted off the remainder of sand from his face. He frowned and stood up as the two once more stood across from one another. There was complete silence as both men squinted their eyes, Voyt holstering one of his revolvers and twirling the other though his gaze never left Justin. They stood for a few more quiet seconds. And then Justin ran towards Voyt.

Voyt fired twice but Justin easily avoided both shots, quickly closing in on Voyt. Time slowed to a sudden crawl as Voyt and Justin stared down one another with Justin still charging forward. Voyt slowly raised one of his revolvers and squinted his eyes, he fired the gun. The bullet flew slow and majestically towards Justin, who once more began gradually raising one of his hands, fingers outstretched to toss the bullet away from him. The bullet however lodged itself square into Justin's finger, time returning to normal as Justin stopped his charge to clutch his hand in pain, Voyt quickly pulled out his other revolver and aimed at Justin.

"Damn it!" Justin shouted.

Sirens began filling the air as heavy footsteps closed in on their positions. Voyt cursed under his breath and hesitated for a moment before holstering his revolvers.

"Hm, that's irritating." He said looking off at the now noticeable flashing lights of police cars, he looked over at Justin. "We'll meet again I'm sure." He tipped his hat as if they hadn't spent the better part of twenty minutes pummeling each other and began running into a nearby alley, slightly holding on to one of his arms that Justin had kicked when he was leaping around with his sonic powers.

"Hey, you com-" Justin shouted, he insisted that they finish their fight here and now, but he was gone. He groaned in anger, as he realized that it was time for him to leave, too. A wanted criminal being found by the police would only cause more problems for them. He quickly dove right for Seven-Seven, whom was still trapped under the net. He quickly fired a blast of sound energy right for it. She was liberated, and climbed to her feet... but dove for Justin, and went right into his arms.

"J-Justin..." Seven-Seven groaned.

"It's okay..." Justin said as he embraced her, he pat her back, then he saw the sirens approaching fast. "But, we have to go now."

Seven nodded as her lower body transformed into a jet that propelled her through the air towards the rooftops, as Justin followed - albeit slower due to his damage.

With a blurred vision, the ancient knight slowly rose from his cot. The doctor and nurse within his room had suddenly taken notice to their patient awake. "Sir you shouldn't move!" Shouted the man with a white coat.

However Fafnir didn't heed his advice, he had stood upright from his position, a large hand holding his forehead as if he was suffering from a headache.

"S-sir." The nurse now spoke. "Please, you need to rest. Its a miracle you are even alive with all that blood loss." She spoke before gasping as the knight put his bare feet on the cold floor. He groaned as he slowly became more aware of his surroundings. He still wasn't acclimated to all of this fancy technology, the sterilized hospital room was all too foreign for him.

When he looked down, he noticed that he was not in his armor. Instead he was in a blue hospital gown that had to be custom-fitted due to his unnatural height, It barely reached down his thighs. "What is this, a dress?" He said in amusement of the modern formalities. bandages had been wrapped around his arms and parts of his torso, which restricted his movement a bit. Still, that didn't stop him from standing up, the IV Fluids and other wires that had attached him to a machine had snapped off. "Sir please you are in no condition to get up!" The doctor pleaded as he tried to pull his arm back down. To the doctor's surprise, even in his injured state, he couldn't bend Fafnir's weight back down. "Where is my armor?" He turned to the nurse, who was in both shock and awe of seeing something so monstrous up close and moving.

Aside from his unnatural height, himself resembled that of an amalgamation of human and reptile. Scales from his tail and wings had a merging point between that and the beige skin on his back. His eyes were a firey crimson, and were more akin to that of a snake. His hair was jet black and long like a horse's main, and two horns were barely poking out of that mess of hair. His wings had spread, the left wing being bandaged, as he stretched.

"I-Its in the back." She pointed to a closet where they had hanged his blood-stained armor and lance. The doctor gave up with the stubborn monster as he moved over to his equipment. "She really did a number on my gear." The knight commented as he stripped out of the hospital gown, forcing the the two medical professionals to look out as he began to dress himself in his white tank top and under armor. "Back in my day if ye were hurt, you'd just have someone in a white cloak smack you with a wooden stick with some flashy white light and you would be good to go within a few hours." He mused. "Now it seems you have to stick around on a bed all day, with all these fancy strings and beeping noises? Just for a few cuts?"

"I'll have to smelt and hand mold my armor later to fix these bloody holes." He continued as he put his feet into iron grieves. Piece by piece he had slowly become fully clad in his armor. The broken pieces of his arm pads and chest plate revealed his bandaged body.

With his lance sheathed over his back, The knight moved to the door. "S-sir!" The doctor pleaded one last time, but it was of no use. Fafnir had to duck and squeeze his large body through the door before stepping outside into the hallway. "Now where are the battlegrounds? I wish to see the other matches for myself.." He asked himself as he had looked both ways, confused of the building's layout.

---

---

---

The green-themed grappler let out a small chuckle when she heard Margot's "concern" over having possibly killed her opponent. "'Concerned'? You sound like one of those psycho-killers." Brooke teased Margot, and lightly jabbed an elbow into her side. Though, she hoped that the dragon-man wasn't killed either. Everything here was all in good fun. Like a really intense sparring match.

She leaned up against the wall casually as Margot took a sip from the water fountain. She felt thirsty herself! But, she could wait until Margot was finished. Brooke merely shrugged as Margot pushed herself off, and answered what she said. Though, what Margot said made Brooke blush.

"Oh, oh no," Brooke said as she put her hands up, and shook them from left to right. "She would be hot if, you know, she didn't overdo it, heh." She laughed as she confidently smiled, she put a hand on her hip.

"That weird boobie woman probably has more STDs than a hooker, I can just smell the gonorrhea!" She chuckled some more. "Sorry, but I like a more wholesome woman." She didn't laugh, because she figured that she was probably annoying Margot at this point with her laughter.

"That said, I want a real fight. Not some weird shit like that!"

---

---

---

Calvin was already awake, with a cast on his head and left arm, with several bandages on his left cheek. He was munching on a bag of chips in his cot, staring at a flatscreen TV that showed the current stadium. A nurse walked over and poured a glass of water for him, which he quickly drank, and held out for more. He noticed that the lumbering man had awoken and stood up, putting his armor back on, before heading out the doorway. Noticing he looked confused, Calvin shrugged and put the bag of chips sitting on his bed onto the nightstand beside him.

"Hey, big guy? You don't have to leave to see the fight, there's a TV right here." Calvin offered, motioning towards the television.

---

---

---

As soon as SYM-04 entered the van, a full team of surgeons had placed him facedown on a table, strapped several heavy-duty restraints, four on his arms and legs, two on his torso, six on his tail, and one on his neck and back of his head. Outside, six heavily-armed security stood facing the back of the closed van, aiming advanced M249's, ready to fire should things go south.

Inside, the five surgeons nervously wiped sweat from their brows as they prepared the extremely dangerous procedure they were about to partake. The head surgeon took a massive yellow needle, and injected it through a small hole in the back of SYM-04's neck, as well as the thick strap over it. As it entered, SYM-04 thrashed for a brief moment, before going limp. The entire team of surgeons took a deep breath.

"He's unconscious. We've got approximately three minutes before it wears off."

The men then started working. They removed SYM-04's armor on the back of his arm, which had been heavily damaged as a majority of his entire shell had. Over the brief course of a minute, the entire team had unscrewed several plates of his shell, leaving the unclothed abomination before them. All that remained was the plate on the back of it's head, which guarded the extremely crucial chip on the back of it's head that allowed it to be manipulated and kept mellow. At this point, one of the surgeons was quietly sobbing out of anxiety. The head surgeon carefully, with precision to make a sniper jealous, drill the back plate's screws loose, while another surgeon clutched it tightly. Once the last screw became loose, the plate was quickly pulled out, and a third surgeon fell backwards into a seat in relief.

"I think we're done here." He dreamily said.

"No. No we're not." The head surgeon shakily removed his glasses.

The chip on the back of SYM-04's head had a small scratch.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell any of you about this part." The head surgeon apologized. He picked up a pair of pincers, and carefully placed both tips on the chip, and brought out a miniature screwdriver which he used to undo the microscopic screws keeping the chip in place. His heart thumped inside of his chest as he counted down mentally the time he had. Approximately one minute. He then picked up a heavy and armored suitcase, which only contained a substitute chip, which he drew out and carefully positioned, while another surgeon screwed it back in with a shaky hand.

One screw left. The surgeon placed it in, and started to turn it, before dropping the screwdriver. He hurried to pick it up, which was impossible due to his quivering hand. The head surgeon shoved him back and picked it up himself, and placed it back into place once more. But...

The head surgeon already knew the anasthetic wore off at that moment.

SYM-04 started thrashing, screaming in pain and rage. The entire van shook. Five of the guards outside raised their guns, yet the leader in front held up his hand.

"Give them thirty seconds." he commanded calmly.

Inside, the head surgeon had hit his head and was disoriented. He stood up with the screwdriver still in his hand, he scrambled to his feet. SYM-04 was still held down, there was still a chance! He managed to stab the screwdriver into the right last screw in the last moment. His grip being shook up and down, the head surgeon turned the screwdriver two times, and it was done. SYM-04 stopped thrashing. But before the surgeon could sigh, he felt a massive stabbing pain penetrate his back, He grunted, and then screamed as he felt more and more exhausted. His last sight, was the light in the chip he inserted turning from yellow to green.

The rest of the surgeons just stared in exhausted breath at SYM-04's tail, which had penetrated and absorbed the life from the poor head surgeon, before going limp again. Not a word was shared between them as they placed his new shell plates back on.

Once they were completed, SYM-04 was unrestrained.

"Thank you", SYM-04 nodded, before stepping out back to the stadium, his team of scientists following with distance behind him.

"Jesus..." One of the surgeons said. "I thought that thing couldn't talk on it's own."

---

---

---

Hank deftly cut a piece of chicken into a bowl, and then tossed banana slices onto it, before serving it to another customer. The liberal-looking hippie looked oddly at the food, twiddling his fork over it. She looked up at Hank, and asked "Is this chicken?"

"Sure. Why not." Hank replied.

The customer gave him a concerned look, and walked off. Hank shrugged to himself as he went back to slicing up his exotic meats on his table behind him. In shock, he suddenly noticed that his Ostrich meat looked pale. He must've had it for about two weeks, and he needed to get rid of it. Another customer came up behind him.

"Excuse me? Can I get a hotdog?"

"I'm all out." Hank grunted.

"What kind of stand at a tournament runs out of hotdog?!" The man interrogated.

"It's a popular item, I know, but I just ran out of pork."

"What kind of business are you running?! You don't even have a sign!" The man, who Hank had just noticed was 54 years old, a baby boomer. The man pulled a phone out of his pocket, and hovered his finger over the screen as if he were holding a gun at Hank. "You want a 1-star review?!"

Hank was perfectly tempted to pull the phone from his hand and crush it as he watched, but then he had an idea. "Fine, hold on a moment", he told the man.

He turned around, and pulled the ostrich meat asside. He mashed it up with a mallet, and then scooped it into a sausage-skin, tying it up, and tossing it into a toaster. Once it came out, he put it in a bun. He turned back to the man.

"You want some sauce with that?"

"Su--" Before the man could finish his sentence, Hank pulled his special sauce from underneath the table, and poured it into the Ostrich-dog. Hank was almost ashamed he hadn't thought of something like that before. He turned around and gave it to the man in a small paper bowl. "That'll be 15.99"

"15.99 for a hotdog?!"

"All I had was limited edition left. Trust me, you'll love it."

The man eyed Hank as he put 16 dollars onto the table and walked away.

Once Hank made sure nobody was looking, he eyed the man he sold his dog to, waiting to watch his expression. Before the man sunk his teeth into it, an explosion went off not too far away, startling the man into dropping his Ostrich-dog onto the filthy brick floor below. Hank's eyes quivered and hands shook in anger. Whoever the hell caused that explosion better figure out REAL SOON, whoever the FUCK they think they are, wasting a perfectly good piece of Ostrich meat! He instantly grabbed his Cleaverblade, and sprinted towards the explosion. He saw a man with two swords and a woman dressed like some type of army-secretary duking it out. The woman was swinging a sword around crazily. He wasn't sure which one, but one of these brats caused a car to explode. Between the two of them, Hank decided to hurl his hook to wrap around the woman first, since she was the bigger hazard. He shouted, to nobody in particular, "NOBODY wastes perfectly good Ostrich Meat!"

---

---

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Hrgh.”

Voyt grunted to himself as he gripped his left arm and forced it back into place, luckily Justin’s kick hadn’t completely dislocated it but his arm had been throbbing ever since he disappeared into the streets. Ordinarily Voyt would go straight underground or anywhere to lay low with authorities prowling the streets but with this tournament taking place all manner of odd people prowled through Rio, a cowboy wasn’t much out of the ordinary at present.

Voyt was much more concerned with the fact that his target had eluded him, well annoyed would be more apt. He’d had the MAVERICK runaway all but dead, one shot to the temple and he’d either be dead or nursing a very splitting headache, either one didn’t matter to Voyt. Then he’d take the body and the robot back to his employer, naturally things didn’t go as planned. But he’d catch up again with Justin - besides he had others on his list to deal with in Brazil.

Unfortunately, Voyt had to “check in” with his employer who was currently residing in Rio, Voyt guessed he preferred to be close to call if anything went against his wishes. A status report wasn’t necessary but Voyt’s employer had paid extra to include it so Voyt would oblige, even if he’d rather continue on with his job. Voyt made a mental note on who he’d dealt with and who was left as he moved his left arm around, ensuring its movement was satisfactory with a slight crack.

The gunslinger squinted his eyes at the sun before continuing down the barren street, sand being kicked up by his steps and his tattered poncho blowing in the wind like a cape.

____________________________________________________________________________________


‘I may not always love you…
...But as long as there are stars, above you.’

First words I ever hear, they play it whenever I’m awake on an old record player, favourite song I think. I look at them through orange liquid and smudged glass, talking amongst themselves as they half heartedly check screens and push buttons. Memories flooding into my mind, see medals pinned on my chest and see myself dying in myriad of different ways, another body amongst the foundations. But they aren’t me, realize that after they flash by, begin seeing the old west. Sometimes saving someone, sometimes stopping bank robbery, sometimes killing a man, sometimes bragging about things over dying campfire. Always die at the end, never ride off into the sunset. Reality of the situation hits and I scream, can’t breathe and body in agonizing pain, they don’t look up, flick a switch and some clear liquid rushes from a tube into my neck, I don’t wake up.

‘You never need, to doubt it…
...I’ll make you so sure about it…’

acrid smell assaults my senses, sour, firing a gun for the first time. Compact assualt rifle in front of a desk, shooting at cardboard bodies, aim for head. Every shot, every bullet, fired in a straight burst, right through where a man’s forehead would be and then the wall behind it, no spray or missed round, all deadshot's going right through the first created hole. Scientists behind me crack open a bottle of champagne and congratulate one another, one of them playfully slaps me on the arm and says something about gold. I eye the other guns on the table, a sub-nosed silver revolver lies amongst advanced automatic weaponry, I reach for it and begin firing at the range whilst the celebration continues behind me.

‘God only knows what I’d be without you.
God only knows what I’d be without you.’

Red lights flashing as hands clasped around scientists’ throat, one of the heads, Thurman I think. Watch with gaze of a wild animal as the life drains from his eyes and he tries in vain to claw at my face, blood along the walls as screaming travels through the distance, look back at dead mercenary, go to take rifle before stopping and gazing at the practise armoury. Shuffle forwards like zombie and claw through a box of pistols, see .22 caliber Colt Diamondback, black as midnight. Pick it up and roll the cylinder, loaded, begin walking in direction of screaming; red lights flashing all the way.

‘God only knows what I’d be without you.’
__________________________________________________________________________________

Voyt tried to open the door to a run down apartment yet it wouldn’t budge, he pushed it again yet it stayed stubbornly in position, Voyt glared at it for a moment before slamming his shoulder into it causing the door to fall completely off its hinges instead of simply open. Voyt gave an annoyed sigh as he stepped over the door and disappeared up the stairs of the building.

Voyt wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting but he still raised an eyebrow at his employer. A rail thin man with receding hair and a neatly combed moustache, sat on a silver and black wheelchair with a brown brace around his right leg. The man spoke with a soft English accent and tapped his cane as he spoke, Voyt took one look at him and assumed he was a man of considerable status and didn’t enjoy wasting time.

“I’m a man of considerable status.” he said barely above a whisper. “And I don’t enjoy wasting time.”

“You’re late.” A man in a black suit who stood next to the employer said with a frown to Voyt. “You were expected a half hour ago.”

Voyt shrugged “Had machinery problems on the way here.”

The man in the wheelchair raised an eyebrow but continued on. “You may recall my name from those who contacted you. For the duration of our time here, you will call me The Jackal, a simple codename to ensure my identity and presence is kept a secret.”

“Don’t I get a nickname?” Voyt quipped with the same bored face he always carried, this was met with another frown from ‘The Jackal’s’ associate who opened his mouth to speak but was stopped by his boss.

“I called you here for a simple update as well as a small readjustment to the contract” He said, ignoring Voyt’s mockery. “Who have you dealt with thus far?”

Voyt remained quiet for a second before speaking, his voice slightly hushed. “I killed A before he left for Brazil, wasn’t compliant, had to be done. D and Y traveled in a pair, D is dead but I subdued Y, she’s in the agreed upon dead drop.”

“And the rest?” The Jackal asked with some concern in his voice that confused Voyt for a moment.

“Pending.” Voyt replied. “I almost caught J and S but the locals swarmed in before I could collect. Either way they don’t know who specifically sent me so I assume your secret will remain quiet, they have no reason to suspect you.”

The Jackal nodded “Kill them next time they are encountered anyway to be safe.” His face grew serious as he moved on. “Now onto the readjustment… I have a request, from now on after you’ve dealt with a target…” Voyt raised his eyebrow “I wish for you to extract a small drop of their blood, living or dead it’s no difference, but soon after they’re dealt with.”

Voyt stared at him for a second to assure that The Jackal wasn’t making a joke.

“Their blood?” Voyt said disbelievingly “What do you need it for?” he asked, for once curious of a client’s intentions.

“That doesn’t concern you.” The Jackal said stoically, his knuckles turning white as he tightened the grip on his cane. “Your employment carries a no questions asked policy provided the agreed upon terms are met, and in this case they are. I will provide you with some vials and an extractor, as well as a small bonus for this unforeseen change in circumstances.” He continued on, which slightly annoyed Voyt and he said so.

“I pick and choose my jobs, I’m freelance. Either you tell me what you want Nomad’s blood for or I walk” He said, voice still low but with a slight edge of life and defiance to it now.

The Jackal smiled. “You are free to, but despite your personal opinion of me I do carry influence to my name, even just a customer of yours I can spread the word of your negligence. Perhaps word gets around that your bought loyalty comes with random insubordination, perhaps even betrayal if the client is paranoid again. Your livelihood comes to a screeching halt, you are left a killing machine with nothing to kill. A mad dog with nothing to keep it in-line.” The Jackal’s smile lessened but his tone was no longer as cutting “I will not divulge my intentions to you, but you do have my word that it is nothing malevolent, it is for… Personal reasons.”

Voyt didn’t buy it and looked over and lingered at the door.

“It is merely a small bit of extra work for a larger payout, no added preparations for you either, it has all been dealt with.” The Jackal added, seeing that he had more or less dissuaded the gunslinger from any rash decisions. Voyt stayed put and went back to his standard demeanor of indifference.

“You’ll be given the items required in the lobby. Deal with the others specified and that couple from earlier, I'm sure most of the people you seek are lounging around at that tournament.” The Jackal said giving a dismissive wave. Voyt stared at him for long enough that The Jackal’s associate began to inch his hand towards the holster in his coat pocket but Voyt left without word or complaint.

“Good dog.” The Jackal said with one last self satisfied smile. “Shall we?” he asked looking up at his associate who took the handlebars of his wheelchair and began to take him into another room, both of them disappearing into the darkness of the unlit motel room.

---

---

---

What a day.

The young cyborg thought to himself as he practically glided from one rooftop to another, with his robotic companion at his side. Using her jumpjets to get from one part of the map, to the other. It wasn't long before the sirens in the distance practically disappeared, and that gave him peace of mind. Though, they should probably take a low-profile, as anyone with eyes can point out which direction they went in. He put a hand up with two fingers, as an obvious gesture for Seven-Seven to stop, before the two hit the ground. They landed near the beach, but sparks suddenly came out of Justin's body.

"Ugh-uuuuugh!" Justin let out the cry as he grabbed his arm, and dropped to his knees in the sand.

"Justin!" Seven-Seven said. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah..." Justin said. "I just took a bit of damage in that fight."

"Don't you have a self-repair module?" Seven-Seven asked.

"... Sadly, I'm not built as good as you." Justin snarked as he pushed himself to his feet, he grasped his shoulder. "Might have to contact my dad so he can get a doc to fix me." He groaned, as he realized that his arm was completely destroyed.

"Let's just go."

Seven-Seven nodded, and grabbed onto Justin's arm, and helped carry him through the sand. This was one of the worst fights Justin been in so far - but, usually, against these bounty hunters, he had Seven-Seven to back him up. She wondered if that made him weaker, or stronger. She let out a sigh, as she kept moving forward... then she felt something (Which was weird since she normally can't feel). Then quickly deduced that was her ki-sensors. While she was helping Justin, she peered in that direction and... saw a kid in the ground, beaten. Her eyes went wide.

"Justin!" Seven-Seven said, and gave Justin a bit of a spook when she did. She pulled her cybernetic companion over towards the boy, and examined him. He had black hair, and looked beaten to an inch of his life as he lied on the ground unconscious. She released Justin (whom could stand on his own), and quickly walked over to the boy. Her eyes started glowing a bright blue color, as she scanned his wounds. She reached a hand out, and grasped his shoulder.

"Sir, are you okay?" Seven-Seven asked, before she shook him again. "Do you need medical attention?"

Inanna looked back and forth nervously as he scanned the alleyway, his staff angled forwards as he braced himself for an attack from his four hooded assailants. Just how did he end up getting into this?

Perhaps you should not drop everything to follow every charlatan who beckons you down a foreboding alleyway... a voice inside him offered. He nodded shakily. They didn’t agree often, but perhaps he was right this time. One of the men stepped forwards, and Inanna found himself backing away in response.

“Again,” the man said. “The shard. We know you have it. Give it here. Now.” Inanna began to stutter some sort of apology as the man sent him to the ground with a ki-infused punch. He rolled away, pushing himself off the ground as all four of them came towards him. The first one tried to follow up with another punch, only to find his fist sailing down above his own head. Inanna twirled gracefully behind him and poked him in the back with his staff, sending the rest of him through the portal. He hit the ground head-first, and Inanna quickly turned back to face the rest of them. Not willing to give them the chance to counterattack, he thrusted forwards with his staff three times in a row, each time creating a portal to a different enemy. He struck hard against their stomachs, sending each of them reeling.

Good, The voice bellowed with relish. Now finish them. Take their souls as they have tried to take ours! Let their meager strength propel us to greater heights in our quest for- Inanna quickly opened a portal in the ground and warped away. An exasperated sigh echoed throughout the deepest depths of his soul.
Well, we could have at least asked them some questions… Inanna admitted as his boots found traction on the rooftop. He was about to warp to another one when he was captivated by the sight of fire trailing across the sky… were those people flying? He decided to follow them, perhaps they could help him out?

I suppose that would suit us better than our current aimless wandering... the voice admitted as Inanna’s boots fell upon the sand. He was distraught as he got a closer look at them. One of their arms seem mangled, and they seemed to be joined by a third; a child lying hurt on the ground. Mankind seems to have no shortage of cruelty in this era...

“Excuse me,” Inanna said. “Is there a better place for you to rest? I would like to help you, if that’s okay…”

When another person walked up, Seven-Seven didn't pay them any mind, and focused on the child. Justin on the other hand immediately turned his head to that person, and stood up. Blocking their view from Seven-Seven and facing them down. They definitely didn't look all that friendly, with that pale skin, robe, and even that spear. And the freaks just keep coming. Well, they just got beaten up by a cowboy who was after their bounty, this weirdo wasn't any different.

"I think we're fine," Justin said. "Mind telling me who you are, friend?"

Damn it... in this state... I'll get my ass kicked by just about anyone. He looked behind him at Seven-Seven. If it comes to it... Seven-Seven will have to fight this one.

"F-friend?" Inanna repeated, stuttering on the word. He dwelled on it for a moment. "I'm Inanna... I guess you could say I'm a traveller. Who are you all?"

Inanna... that name was lost on Justin. Either way, Justin wasn't going to drop his guard for even an instant. He knew that being careless would be the death of him, especially in his injured state. For all he knew, this stranger planned on putting that spear through his eye socket. He kept his mouth relatively shut, as he answered.

"... I'm Brenton, and that's my friend, Andrea," Justin explained. "We just found this kid on the beach."

In the darkness of his conscience, Little Gideon felt a sensation on his shoulder and as his mind focused on it, he recognized it to be touch. Someone was touching him, but the contact hadn’t been warm. As the hand shook him, he felt the rough sand beneath his skin grinding against it, and causing his cuts to burn intensely. The boy’s brown brows knitted together and his face scrunched up in pain. The salt in the air and sand already made his wounds sting but the jostling was worse.

“Stop, please,” Little Gideon begged. His knees drew closer to his chest as he curled into a ball. He coughed blood against his jeans before he cracked open his grey eyes to weakly peer up at the three individuals surrounding him. Their forms were hazy at first, but when his vision became clear, he noticed immediately that they weren’t Brazilian.

Tourists? Little Gideon mused to himself. He stared at the pale one with the staff suspiciously before his eyes shifted to the blonde with the sparking arm. Holy crap…there’s three of them.

It might have been paranoid of him, but he suspected they were either Agents or Howitzer. The guy with the robotic arm he had no doubt was a Howitzer operative. Were they collaborating or maybe they hadn’t known each other? Closing his eyes again, Little Gideon mentally cursed.

Damn; I’m stuck. Tensing nervously, he decided, I’ll just have to use plan B.

Opening his eyes, tears gushed from them as Little Gideon’s face scrunched up. “It hurts, Mama. It hurts.”

The little boy started crying as he laid there pathetically in the sand, curled up and wincing from his wounds. If there had been a camera somewhere, Little Gideon was certain that he would have won an Academy Award for his performance. The old beaten and helpless child routine. It would make anyone with a caring heart a sucker. He figured he would use them at least until he managed to recover. He might even learn more about his rescuers. As soon as he learned if they were Agents or Howitzer’s goons, then he was out of there.

"Mama...?" Seven-Seven asked, with a raised eyebrow. "Where is your mother? I can go get her to help!"

Damn. She asked about the kid’s Mom. Mama from the Brazilian restaurant he had visited earlier popped into his mind, but with Papa still injured or who knows what happened to him, he didn’t want to show up there. It was still his fault that Papa had gotten caught up in business he didn’t belong in. The kid had no family…just like him. Frowning pathetically down at the sand with his bottom lip poked out, he felt that he was starting to actually cry as he thought about his father back in Switzerland. Why was life so cruel? This world was full of nothing but violence. Little Gideon just seemed to cry even more.

The child didn't answer, and Seven-Seven could only feel her mechanical heart sinking as she desperately thought of a way to help him. She merely picked up the boy - which was fairly easy given her mechanical strength, and his small, small, size. She cradled him in her arms, as he sobbed, before she turned towards Justin.

"We have to get him to a hospital!" Seven-Seven pleaded, before her eyes rested on the fellow with the spear.

"Come on, we don't have time for this-"

"I can take you to one!" Inanna offered, nodding perhaps a bit too quickly. "Can you tell me where one is?" He opened a portal away from the beach, as something of a demonstration.

Seven-Seven's eyes briefly flashed an electronic blue color as she scanned the man from head to toe.

NO INFORMATION.

Well, that was unfortunate. Still, he was offering help. Seven-Seven pointed towards the city, before she said, "There's a hospital seven kilometers from here!" She told him. "Can your portals go that far?"

Inanna flinched briefly as the lady's eyes turned blue, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Only if I can find it first," he said. He altered the portal's exit to the sky above the city, letting him look down on it like a map. He wasn't perfectly fluent with the writing in this region, but he did find something that looked like a hospital.

"Is this what you were looking for?" He asked, changing the exit to outside the building in question.

The portal made Justin cross his arms as he looked into the portal with a raised eyebrow. This could be a trap, Justin was never the most trusting, but if they are going to get this boy to safety reliably, he had to take a risk. He should go in alone... if it was a trap, then at least Seven-Seven would be okay. Again, even if they were attacked, Justin was in such a shitty state that he would only slow down Seven-Seven if it came to that. He looked back at the child... as grim as it sounded, he could be used as a "meatshield" so to speak. He slowly stuck his hand through the portal as his head followed. He tried to make sure this bastard doesn't close the portal with him in it (if he loses an arm, no big deal - it's fake anyway).

Inside the portal, he took one look around, and realized that it was an actual hospital (The people there looked at him awfully confused). He pulled his head back in, as he said to Seven-Seven.

"It's clear".

"Let's go, then!" Seven-Said said.

Inanna nodded before he stepped through the portal. He looked from side to side, checking to see if there was anything dangerous in this new place. It seemed like there wasn't, though those nearby seemed awfully confused about the whole thing.

Are you quite done here? The voice inside him wondered. Inanna shook his head slightly, not comfortable with leaving a child to fend for himself. If we were to tend to every young urchin we unearth in this city I fear we would not leave for another decade. But I suppose that time is our luxury...

When Little Gideon was picked up in the woman’s arms, he was pleased how well they were eating up his ploy, then again…they could have just been kind people. The man with the spear, the strangest one in the group, demonstrated his uncanny powers. He closed the distance between time and space, creating a hole in dimensions from one area to the next. They were using the man’s powers to get him to a hospital. Little Gideon felt slightly nervous about the suggestion. He had never been in a hospital before and he didn’t know what the doctors would learn about his genetic makeup.

I’ll only be there long enough to get stitched up, he planned. These people…I only hope they’re not with the bad guys. I will have to return their kindness. They’re not only saving me but the life of what could have been an innocent child.

His eyes welled with tears. He loved these people! He was able to put his faith back in humanity because of this moment.

Seven-Seven charged through the portal, but Justin hesitated for a moment... while he wasn't against helping this kid, he knew that if they played Mother Theresa it'd come back to bite them in the ass. Especially since they already had one person come after them (in a very public display that'd probably attract more people). Neither Seven-Seven or Justin had a use for a conventional hospital, but Justin had to assume that they would at least keep an eye on the hospitals just in case. If they get caught without the fighter of the two... it was all over. Justin caught up to Seven-Seven, before he said,

"We drop the kid off, and leave Rio," Justin ordered. "We stuck around here far too long as is."

Seven-Seven nodded, as she held the little Gideon close, and said.

"We're going to get you to safety, little guy," Seven-Seven started off. "... What's your name?"

Little Gideon tensed when Seven just charged through the portal. She was so bold to take a stranger’s word. Everyone seemed to have traverse safely and he stared at the hospital in awe. It almost seemed like a dream. The portal had actually worked. Little Gideon made a mental note to be wary of the pale man if he ever crossed paths with him again.

Little Gideon looked up at Seven when she asked his name. It seemed harmless enough to share. Majority of his enemies called him “Adam,” and new him only as such.

“Gideon,” he answered. “I don’t like the doctor, but will they make me feel better?”

The girl would make a good mother one day. He thought this not knowing she was an android almost similar to her counterpart. In that moment, he didn't even realize she had no ki. He wasn’t thinking about it.

She held him closely, before she answered with a simple.

"... Andrea." The name Justin came up for her. She popped through the portal after Justin. She looked behind herself, before she charged through the doors of the hospital while Justin hung back (Only because he didn't want to get spotted, and he had words to say to their spear wielding friend). Seven-Seven ran up to the front desk and presented the boy to them.

"Hello!" She shouted at the desk workers. "We found this child-" Unaware that Justin didn't even go in. "-in the beaches, and he needs immediate medical attention!"

The nurses and doctors took the child, and Seven-Seven smiled. Before they could ask anymore questions, she was quick to leave the area.

Justin was facing down the pale guy with the spear, he narrowed his eyes, and asked, "I guess you're here for the tournament?" He asked, it was obvious this yahoo was here for the fighting cup because only the best dressed weirdos come to get their ass kicked. "I didn't see you in the lobby... and..." He looked at his pale ass, and the spear, before he chuckled, "... I don't think I would have missed someone like you, heh."

"Oh," Inanna said happily. "Thank you!" He was initially unnerved by the way Justin stared at him, but he smiled, not registering that the comment wasn't exactly a compliment. He would have blushed, if he was able to.

"I was just looking for the tournament before I ran into you," Inanna continued, rocking back and forth on his heels as he spoke. "I don't think I would do very well if I tried to compete, though... I've been looking for something for a long time, now; pieces of metal that give off ki. I was hoping that someone at the tournament might know something about it. Would you happen to know of anything like that, Brenton?"

He crossed his arms at both the comments, and he personally wondered how much air this dude's head was full of. Justin didn't peg him for the mercenary type, but he wasn't going to let his guard down.

"Metal that gives off ki?" Justin asked, with a raised eyebrow. "Unless you're talking about cybernetics-" He placed out his arm for a moment, "Or some weird artifact I don't know."

He shrugged.

"Besiiiiides," Justin started off, "You're late for the tournament, the preliminaries are over, and the first round has begun."

"Cybernet-ics?" Inanna repeated, the word sounding strange to him. "What are those?" He did not expect to learn about so many of these bizarre "nets" in his travels.

With an eyebrow raised, Justin wondered what kind of rock this kid was under. "... You know? Grafting machine onto man?" He winced for a moment as he was briefly brought back to the moment where he woke up, and realized he was a cyborg.

"Oh," Inanna said as he tried to wrap his head around the concept. "Technology is really confusing to me, but that sounds very interestin-" He stopped once he noticed Justin's discomfort, tilting his head to the side slightly. Perhaps he shares my distaste for this mechanical drivel. It may be wise to change the subject...

"That is a shame that I missed the tournament, though," He continued. "Perhaps I'm better off spectating, though. It sounds really dangerous, and I don't know what I'd do with the prize money."

"Charity." Justin chuckled, as he turned away from Inanna. He was definitely not a bounty hunter - he was probably just a contestant that was late. But, one thing was on Justin's mind. "How did you miss the tournament with those portals? Did ya' oversleep?"

"That's a great idea!" Inanna cheered, not having considered such a thing. He put a hand to his chin as he considered how to explain it. "Well, I didn't really know where this place was, exactly. We're pretty far from Iran, after all. Also-"

At this point, Seven-Seven came out of the hospital.

"I see things went well in the hospi-"

"... Thank you so much for your help!" Seven-Seven said as she walked up to the pale, robed, stranger, and started shaking his hand. "He would have died if it wasn't for you.

"You're welcome!" Inanna replied, shaking her hand somewhat lightly. "I'm just happy knowing that he'll be okay."

"Oh?" Seven-Seven looked at the pale stranger, and raised an eyebrow. She never quite caught this person's name, even though he was a great deal of help. She smiled as took a step or two back, and asked, "Stranger, what is your name?"

"My name is Inanna!" The golem repeated with a smile. "Your friend introduced you to me already, Andrea!"

"Oh, thank you, Justin!" Seven-Seven said, briefly glancing at Justin as the cyborg crossed his arms.

"Yeah, yeah..." Justin crossed his arms. "Before you start making friends, you need to remember we got a long journey ahead of us."

He threw a thumb over his shoulder, as he turned around.... that mere action caused sparks to fly off his head.

"Besides... our friend won't be able to join us."

Seven-Seven frowned for a moment, before she nodded her head.

"We have to go," She started off, "But, let us meet again. As friends. We'll have much to discuss."

Inanna nodded. He was so happy to be making friends!

"Goodbye, then!" He said with a wave. "I wish you the best of luck on your travels!" He felt bright enough to disregard the voice inside of him as it grumbled about wasted time.

The two of them ran off away from the hospital... just as police were arriving on scene to pursue them.

The two made it to the rooftops... it was fun to make friends, but it was finally time to leave Rio. Put the city, and the tournament behind them. As they didn't realize a new era was rapidly approaching.

---

@Mr Allen J

"That weird boobie woman probably has more STDs than a hooker, I can just smell the gonorrhea!" She chuckled some more. "Sorry, but I like a more wholesome woman." She didn't laugh, because she figured that she was probably annoying Margot at this point with her laughter.

"That said, I want a real fight. Not some weird shit like that!"

Margot wiped water off her face as she stood up and leaned against a wall, rubbing her chin. "I think I know that feeling. You get yourself all worked up for a match, getting prepared mentally and physically only to have it all be for nothing? It's almost like trying to lift a box that you thought was full of books only for it to be full of clothes." She started down the hallway again, heading back to the lockers. "If you'll forgive me for stating the obvious," she motioned to the sword on her hip, "I am a fencer. It's in my blood. I used to travel around the world for fencing competitions. Every so often someone would get suddenly sick at the last moment, get stuck in traffic, or any number of things and I'd be declared the winner at the last moment."

She pointed at the grappler, her face serious. "Point is, you can't let yourself get tripped up by that. You're going to advance to the next round and unless all your opponents suddenly get food poisoning you're going to get a proper fight." Her demeanor softened as she smirked. "But for now, we get to relax until they announce the next match-ups. Gives me time to tend to my swords and repair my outfit and for you," her smirk turned into a grin, "time to tell me about the 'wholesome women' you like." She shrugged. "Or whatever fist fighters have to do to prepare for a match."

---

---

---

Hey, maybe Margot and Brooke weren't all that different when it came to mindset.

Brooke thought those sissy little swords would had made Margot compliant, when in actuality it strengthened her fighting spirit. Or something like that. It made the two of them see eye-to-eye much easier. She softly smiled as she put on a hand on her hip, before chuckling.

"Guess you're right, Blue," Brooke started off, "I have a lot of fighting ahead of me."

She walked over, and looked her in the eye, smiling.

"In, and out, of the arena, so I have an idea while we wait for the next match to start," Brooke grabbed onto Margot's wrist, and pulled her off through the hallways of the stadium. "I know just the place!"

She hoped nobody was there, but by the time she pushed the door open with the side of her body, there was not a soul in sight. They were probably hyping themselves up for the tournament. She grinned.

What was this place?

A training gym, after all. Complete with punching bags, and more.

"C'mon, Blue," Brooke said. "Remember when I talked about fights outside the arena? Well, in those fights, there ain't gonna be rules. And I know the first thing I'm going to do is take away your swords."

Brooke released Margot from her grasp, and looked at her.

"I'll show you some moves so you can at least surprise someone." She gave Margot that trademark smile. "That's the creed of Vanburen Karate."

---

---

With the dust settling from her landing Brown remained on her back, blinking and shaking her head. Her forehead tingled from where the thug's fist had impacted, but there wasn't any pain. Brown had deliberately struck herself in the face far harder in the past then the thug had, and likely could hit. Even if he had hit hard enough to cause pain it wouldn't have mattered.

"All pain ends, so I must not." Brown thought as the light began to dim around her. The thugs who'd been planting the bombs had begun to encircle the fallen girl, surrounding her with a threatening thickness to their numbers.

Craning back her legs Brown leapt to her feet and looked around, unshaken by the vast group of men surrounding her.

"Alright. So just to make sure. You're all doing something bad, right? No one's going to get mad if you all, well, die?"

Brown's voice dropped slightly at her last word and stance began to widen, her leg muscles tightening in eager anticipation.

---

The tall boxer lead the group through the streets of Brazil. She knew that some of them needed to get back to the stadium soon, but that was little to none of her concern. She wondered where they could get some Brazilian steak. Correction: Good Steak. Brenda fucking loved steak. She looked off to the side for a moment, and saw her little friend Jonas, whom trailed behind her. She wondered how long this arrangement between them would last.

Long as it stayed useful for Brenda.

There were sounds of excitement not too far away. Brenda whipped her head around, and her eyes opened wide. There was a group of gang members that surrounded a girl. She recognized their colors and ugly mugs as one of the worse gangs in Brazil, O Massacre de soldados. Those guys were a pain in the ass.

There was a sound that pervaded the air as Jonas glanced to the side to observe a... ugh, seriously? Did those imbeciles have anything better to do with their lives? The O Massacre de soldados were surrounding some... girl... What? Hold on... He could sense the ki emanating from the goons, yet he felt nothing from the kid. That's a bit peculiar; she was like that guy with the "suit"...

Did she have the same condition? Was it a result of some weird ass necromancy? A soulless android? Whatever the case was, he wasn't interested getting involved with something petty like that (though the thought of payback invaded his mind for some time), considering they had more important things to do.

Brenda stopped for a moment, before she turned to Jonas and said,

"So, about the proposi-"

"... Gimme a second."

She said, as her fist was coated in magma, she threw thought out of the window as it was quickly replaced by action. She charged the group of people head on with her fist cocked back. When she made her "entrance," she punched a member of the gang in the back so hard that the sounds of bones breaking echoed through the air.

He let out a scream as he went flying forward, and Brenda didn't waste anytime moving onto the second mook - she threw out her deadly rock-breaker combo. Four devestating punches to the front of her opponent.

And just like that, forget the plans, forget the discussion! Lets go help some random stranger that suspiciously has no ki like that other man. Shrugging and sighing, Jonas just shook his head as he drew a knife. Sure, more muscle was always great, but what if that muscle lacked spirit? Eh, the others were unaware of his situation before the first match, so it was understandable.

"Well, here we go again," he mumbled, dashing forward with two knives held in each hand. He glanced back momentarily to the wolf girl and giantess. "Lets just take care of this situation, then we can get back to the proposal," he shouted to the latter duo.

Otsana had already drawn her pistol, looking ready to join in. "Oh these assholes again. Don't they know when they're beat?" Without waiting for a response, she ran to close the distance between the two groups, leaving a mildly confused Klara behind.

"I suppose a warmup to keep my energy up would not hurt..." she said with a shrug as she ran after her former opponent, leaving frosted footprints in her wake as she drew on her ki.

With precision, Jonas launched some knives one at a time at the spines of the gangsters. As two of the knives became lodged within their backs, the others were in the midst of turning. Adjusting his shots, Jonas threw three more knives, one at a time, at the places where their backs would be in the time those blades landed. Staring down the screeching bastards, he barred his teeth as he blinked, scanning the small grouping.

As soon as the eyes of the thugs surrounding her turned Brown moved, kicking off the ground and spinning into the air with an outstretched leg.

"Āmīrippā!" She howled as her foot crashed through the jaws of the seven thugs closest to her, teeth flying from their mouths like shattered red and white Christmas ornaments. The hardened criminals crashed to the ground, their shrill cries and shrikes of agony muffled by the blood and teeth fragments that had quickly clogged up their windpipes. Heads snapped back to Brown and then back to the lava-fisted girl, the previously confident faces of the thugs straining from the frightening opposition placed against them.

The Linebacker built leader of the group's eyes went wide at the magma fisted girl and quickly turned as Brown' landed.

"I ain't gonna' let no fucking weak as bitch mak' a fo' a me!" The Linebacker slurred and charged forward towards Brown. His feet pumped and her threw himself forward, swining a thicked muscle ridden arm down at the little girl in front of her. He grit his teeth, expecting to feel the sweet satisfying impact of his knuckles against tender flesh be he caught dead air and stumbled foward.

He spun around to see Brown stepping back into position where she'd been originally, having sidestepped his swing like she was passing someone in the hallway. Despite the almost casual movement she'd made the girl's face was hardened, her eyes wide and her lips twisted downward.

"Did you just say...that I'm weak?" Brown asked her voice becoming quiet as the Linerbacker spat and raised his fist.

"Once weak always weak! Now I'm gonna put you where you be-

"Sukaisendā!"

A deafening crack drowned out the thug's words as Brown kicked off the ground and swung upwards. Her knuckles collided with the Linebacker's face and his feet were lifted off the ground, his nose collapsing back into his skull with a meaty squelch as he rocketed upwards. The man soared into the air and arced at the ten foot mark before plummeting back to earth. Brown landed seconds before the Linebacker did, his body crashing in a broken heap just outside the 'circle' of thugs.

He was unmoving and not a sound left his body save for the gentle trickling of blood that rushed from the hole where his nose had been delivered into the frontal lobes of his brain.

And now begins the worst fight scene in all of Roleplaying. The people who invented English must be rolling in their graves right now.

The linebacker landed a few feet in front of Otsana, cutting off her sprint. She watched him for a few moments before she turned to the rest of the group. Gun still drawn, she looked around the group of gangsters. "You guys done already fucked up. I'm just overkill at this point. But..." With a couple of shots, she kneecapped a couple of the thugs closest to her.

"Do not be so sure, leetle girl!" a voice overhead boomed out in a Russian accent straight out of a Red Alert cutscene. The mooks quickly moved to get out of the way as the speaker stomped forward, the ground shaking slightly as he shoved enemies out of his way. The ice giantess looked over in time to see a heavily muscular thug, almost as big as the Linebacker, approaching the pair of them, ugly as sin with a nasty looking scowl on his face as he cracked his knuckles. On instinct, Klara summoned and heaved an ice axe in his face, which he caught with a hand the size of a baseball glove and tossed aside without so much as a glance.

"Ha, and I thought this would be boring!" Klara boasted with only a hint of wariness at the site of the human meat glacier opposing them.

The towering chunk of man (if he could even be called that) eyed the other squabbling members as they were almost immediately brought down by these rat-sized giblets! If they couldn't even handle a few of these Nomads, what did that say about him? He wasn't stupid, that's for sure and he didn't even have a walkie talkie to contact the others with to go on to Plan B!

Even with the pressure dead set on him, he kept a stone-cold face to the ongoing slaughter of the soldiers. He took one step back as he squinted and displayed a deep frown towards the evenly sized woman. Rapping his fingers on this frozen chunk, he let out a vigorous shout as he swung the axe and chucked it right back at its user, as well as two metal pipes he held in the other hand before launching his foot off the ground.

As he went into a full-blown sprint, he ducked low to snatch a rather unwieldy machete. It would be awkward, but it would serve a purpose as the man tumbled off.

Klara had no trouble avoid the axe, which fell apart when it flew in her direction. She had enough mastery of her powers to not be brought down with her own weapon. The lead pipes were a different story, and Klara had to throw her arm up to prevent the unfriendly projectiles from braining her. Catching sight of the rusty metal machete swining down on her, she made a grab for his arms, freezing her arms to negate the impact of the unpleasantly sharp object. The thug's momentum carried him forward as he slammed into Klara like a freight train. Klara's sheer size prevented her from being trampled as she was winded and thrown back by the blow, with her opponent staggered from hitting her. Klara's wheezing gasps trying to refill her lungs with air turned into a hearty laugh.

"Is that the best you have, veslingr??" she roared, a manic glint in her eye. "Come, hit me again!"

"Are you a fookin' masokhist er' somethin'," the man rumbled a little bit as he regained his balance. He couldn't help but eye her from head to toe for some seconds... and then he sprinted. The goon took what remaining time he had to rush her the hell down. Letting out a ferocious battle jeer, he slammed into her in full force. There was no way in hell they would succeed with people like them around! He grit his teeth as he plunged one foot after the other, sending himself forward like a fighter jet. He felt the rush, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, his own animal instincts kicking into gear as he glared at Klara ravenously as a dog would be to the carcass of some bloodied rabbit.

And then suddenly as they flew out, he plunged the machete into the masochists abdomen as they rode off into the distance, Klara laughing all the way.

---

A quick punch to the ground sent a wave of spikes coming from herself, and knocked over a great deal of the thugs. She noticed that Jonas and Friends jumped in... they didn't have to. She had this covered, these were just useless thugs. Her fists were surrounded with stone as she threw one punch after another as she cut through the group of thugs.

She threw a stone-powered uppercut, and sent the last one flying backwards. The group stood before a group of battered up thugs, and Brenda loudly cracked her leg as she faced the attacker.

"Hey, sweetheart," Brenda said to catch her attention, "You okay? You don't look like you're from around here." She took a few steps forward.

"Those guys were thugs from a gang called the Massacre Soldiers," She explained, before she looked at the ringleader with his face broken, "And I take it you're a fighter."

Well, looks like Brenda was gonna handle the talking for now... and while she was doing it, he might as well start swiping the fodders wallets. Most of em' were probably dead or suffered severe brain damage from what he was sure of... and possibly some plastic surgery thrown in the mix if they had the cognitive skill to pull off such a task... eh, whatever. Between humming a tune and utter names, Jonas went to work, hands shuffling through the pockets of the massacred soldiers.

"... hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, Ot- sah- ahn- a's... hm, hmph, hmm, Br- een- nd- a's... hmmmm, hummm, hmmmmmmm, muh- ah- ine... hmmdaaa, hmm, daaaa, Kl- ah- er- a's..."

Juggling the petty cash holders, Jonas frisked through the pockets of the now broken leader of this motley band of morons... finding a wallet, yes, but something else... two something else's in particular... Retrieving his hand, the doctor found himself staring directly at a walkie talkie that was chipped at one of the corners and what looked to be... actually, what the hell is this thing?... eh, figure it out later.

Raising an eyebrow, Jonas shoved the decimated leaders pay into his bag before retrieving that one walkie talkie he snatched the other night.

Something was up... and not the good kinda up when someones preparing a surprise birthday. This was the type of up that was happening when throwing the surprise birthday with the recipient dying from shock two seconds later. Fiddling with his the device, Jonas played around with both of them, trying to catch a glimpse of any contact he could procure.

Brown’s heels spun in the first as she faced the noise behind her. Fists raised and eyes wide, her whole body seemed to tense up with an unhinged intensity. Her feet slid backwards, taking a charging stand aimed at Brenda. Her teeth gritted as she readied herself to fight and kill what she assumed to be another enemy. Another mocking figure.

However she stopped. Looking down she saw the gang members, floored and bleeding, at the rock girl’s feet. Hesitation and momentary confusion spread across the young girl’s face as she took in her surroundings. Blinking Brown shook her head and looked to Brenda with a somewhat unsure smile. As if she’d snapped out of some kind of state and hadn’t fully registered the dark skinned girl’s presence until that moment.

“Am I OK? Ummm…” The pale girl looked down at herself. Her knuckles as red as her boots, covered in blood and bits of broken molars. Outside of that she couldn’t feel any cuts or broken bones for a change. Smiling Brown looked up and nodded her head.

“Yeah I’m OK! Also, you’re right. I’m a fighter from Japan! I came here to , well, fight in the tournament. Then I was late and couldn’t join. Then I tried to sit down and eat lunch, but then I saw these guys planting weird wirey bricks on the side of the stadium, and then I got upset...”

Brenda raised her eyebrow. "... Bricks?" She questioned.

Brown glanced around at the heaps of moaning men and corpses that surrounded her in a loose circle.

"And then now I'm feeling a lot better!"

"... Ahhh, yeah, that's nice, sweetheart."

This girl was weird as all hell. Brenda couldn't help but wonder if it was a Japan thing - then again, there was plenty of Japanese in Brazil and they weren't as weird as this chick. From her attitude, to her... really fetishy outfit, she wondered what manga this chick crawled out of because Brenda was about to push her back in. Though, while this girl wasn't all that important, what she said was probably the more pressing matter.

"Gimme a moment." Brenda turned away from her, back to Jonas. "Yo, boss,"

Jonas glanced back at Brenda while he was crouching before twirling both walkie talkies like guns in a western before holstering them in his bag. Placing a hand on the ground, Jonas immediately flew up back to his height as he strolled on over to Brenda. Ugh, "boss." As much as he could consider himself a "boss" to her, it sounded... wrong. Dunno, maybe it was because that was the first time he was called that, but still, Jonas just didn't like it.

And she still was getting used to this employee thing.

"What do you think of what she's talking about?" Brenda said in a hushed tone, before she quickly turned to Brown, and then back. "She's a bit of a yahoo, but it'd be stupid to ignore her..."

Brown meanwhile rubbed her nose while prodding an unconscious gangster with the tip of her boot, like a child poking a dead bird with a stick.

Getting up close to Brenda, he looked at her with nearly dead eyes as the stone-hearted woman quizzed him on what the weirdo with no ki could be speaking of.

"A good question... but an even bigger question is if she's dead or alive in any fashion." Peering over at the much younger, frail looking girl, Jonas squinted his eyes as they traced over the bold, black, interlacing lines he observed on her back. Swiftly whipping his head back, he returned his attention to Brenda.

"The bricks first, her nonexistent ki next, and your pay afterwards." Patting himself in a rhythmic fashion on both thighs, Jonas then proceeded to pivot around and place a hand on his hip. Snapping a finger, he pointed his index directly at the girl.

"... Who cares about her ki?" Brenda muttered to herself as she let Jonas do his thing.

"Glad to hear you're fine miss, but I'm curious 'bout a few things..." Jonas let his arms fall to the waistline as he shifted over to the dead girl. Tilting his head a little, he briefly tried once more to sense her ki... and to no avail, nothing... was bijou breasts like that other weirdo in the suit?

"First off, would you kindly tell us where they set these 'bricks?' These guys aren't exactly carpenter's."

"Hmm?" Brown looked up at the lab coat wearing man pointing at her with brief confusion. He looked like a doctor with a fancy lab coat and a mature, analytical air about him. Yet something about him made Brown feel he wasn’t the kind of doctor to give out lollipops. "Oh, the things they pulled out of their big duffle bags? They're over there. I didn’t get a good look at them but they stuck them around the outside of the colosseum and I think some of them put them inside too.”

As if mimicking the doctor Brown pointed to the nearby wall of the colosseum. There, firmly stuck to the steel support beam, was a brick of plastic explosives about the size of a dictionary. Colorful red and yellow wires spooled out of it.

A glance down the wall made it clear there wasn't simply one.

The ex-special forces operator's ears perked up as she looked down the hallway. "If these chucklenuts have set up bombs around the place, I can disarm them pretty easily. She pulled out a small toolkit from one of her pouches and examined the nearest bomb. "The thing I worry about is someone sitting on the detonator while I'm working on these. Perhaps we should tell the authorities so they can evacuate people?"

"Maybe." Brenda said, then she let out a sigh. "But, I hate to say it, but that would ruin the whole fighting cup." She explained. "And that grand prize will be gone."

She sighed, as she realized how callous she sounded.

"Me and wolfgirl lost... I think we can handle this while you fight, boss."

"Jus' call me Jonas or Doc, the Boss stuff sounds... wrong," he winced a little as he glanced at Brenda. Hopefully that was settled as he moved on to the more troubling aspect of this all - bombs.

"Okay..." Brenda snickered. "... Boss."

Jonas couldn't help but be a bit antsy to hear the word "bombs..." Though, he was a little glad to have the former special force's operator on their backs... and with Brenda's comment, multiple things started to cross his mind... was that thing he pilfered off that bloodied mooks body a part of the bomb? A detonator? Looking to the satchel, Jonas made sure to furrow through it rather swiftly before delicately producing the item.

"Yo, Otsana, this the detonator you're talkin' about?" Jonas eyed the wolf girl before extending an arm out to hand her the mysterious item which he guessed was probably the detonator, but that was just an inference. For all he knew, it could just be a peculiar walkie talkie from the nineties or something.

"Yep, that looks like it." She carefully takes the detonator from him. "A real homebrew job from the looks of it." She turns it over in her hands a few times. "Barely enough range to let them detonate from a safe distance." She looked over the bombs, trying to decide where to start the defusing.

"Is there anything I can do to help? Brown looked on, uncertain of what exactly was going on.

"Look sweetheart," Brenda was going to let this girl down easy. Given her childish demeanor, she was just going to get in the way. "Just go grab a juice box and-"

"Well, that's easy missy," Jonas suddenly cut Brenda off, giving her a sharp look before returning his gaze back to the younger, less endowed lady. Crossing his arms, he gave a faint smile as he stuck out his index to the side. "All y'all gather 'round, you included, as I've gotta plan hatched up."

"Yay! Where can I find a juice box?" The pale girl beamed as she skipped over to Jonas and the others. Her hands clenched and unclenched eagerly, knuckles till covered in quickly drying blood.

"Jus' have a seat and I'll get you one!" Brenda cheerfully said to Brown, before she shook her head, and focused on Jonas. While Brenda didn't care for the "missy" comment, she merely sighed and leaned into the doc's circle. Best to just swallow her pride long as it got the job done.

Eyeing the whole group, he broke his crossed arms and instead outstretched one. As much as he didn't like how he couldn't detect this naive girls ki, there would be some practicality in learning a few things, as well as possibly exploiting this... spiritual evasion of sorts.

"OK! I really like apple juice. Orange juice makes the corners of my mouth hurt, especially if the skin is broken because I bit into someone's jugular too hard." Sitting down in front of Jonas with her legs crossed Brown leaned back and looked up at him, before looking to Brenda expectantly. The sarcasm in the darker skinned women's voice flying high enough over her head to strike a continent away.

"So what's your plan? Is it gonna be cool? Does it involve throwing people out of windows? I haven't thrown anyone out a window, at least not today anyway. Do those circular glass things on boats count as windows?"

Jonas glanced about, wondering if the other two would hop in on this little tactics talk, but Wolfenstein was a bit busy toying around with the explosive, probably a little too into diffusing the satchel... understandable; if it was as homemade as she spoke of, then it probbably didn't have a secure mechanism and could blow if someone were to just breath slightly on it...

But Klara... Jonas scanned the forlorn area and came up with multiple conclusions - that this icebound woman was possibly the stealthiest out of em' all, she went to grab a bite without them, etc. Whatever the case was, it was a little disappointing to see her dissipate into thin air as the man shrugged and let his head leisurely sag to the side.

"... ok, whatev's, I'll just relay it to fire and ice later," he mumbled as he snapped back to attention... and listened to this hyperactive kiddo talk so care-freely about kicking peoples asses. He frowned ever so slightly, nearly squinting at the girl before crossing his arms.

"Alright, so the plan. There will be no theatrics here... not any that are loud enough to garner lotta' attention anyways," he spoke under his breath as he glared at the woman-child before continuing. "You all are undergoing a stealth mission."

Relieving his arms and setting a hand on his hip, he continued. "Thanks to Brenda's little comment about the prize, I've hypothesized they're going to use the explosives as a diversion... and while no one is looking, those goons will snatch away the prize money for themselves." Yeah, that sounded about right. While crap like this was used to send a message from what he read, he recalled the other night and his "negotiations."

"While what Otsana said about alerting the authority sounds good on paper, in practice, it might be a little too ideal to work. For one, if these Soldiers We Massacred catch wind that something is awry, and will likely detonate the bombs, regardless... and even though she commented on these bricks being homecooked," he jabbed a finger back at Otsana. "I have no idea how large the explosion will be..."

"So with numerous factors in play, you three will need to undergo a stealth mission," he put up his thumb, index, and middle finger. "The priority targets are the people with these walkie talkies..." Jonas held up one of the two talkies he had, eyeing it as if it was some grand jewel.

"... and the detonators. Find a way to expose the dips who have these items and take em out first, then just wreck the allo' rest in any way... So, how does that sound?"

"Personally, taking out the whole lot of them is more of my style," Brenda noted, as she put a hand on her hip, and briefly glanced at Brown to make sure she was still in her line of sight. "But, I can work with stealth."

... To a limited extent, that is. Brenda thought to herself immediately after she spoke. This was going to be a tough one. While alerting the authorities might had been the most ethical decision, she knew that they would play right into their hands. If they took out the brains, they could easily scatter the rest of them like roaches.

"Remember, I'm probably the loudest out of everyone here," Brenda started off. "Worse comes to worse; I'll just take out as many as I can."

"I can do that. Just find and kill the people with the walkie talkies, then kill the rest of the bad people without too many finding out. We'll stop the stadium from getting blowned up and the prize money from being stolen! This will be a lot of fun. Plus it'll give me something to do since I can't do the tournament."

Brown grinned, flexing her blood stained hands and kicking her battered booted feet against the ground in excited anticipation.

"Kill..." Brenda trailed off as she faced the woman. "Sorry sweetheart, I don't know where you got the idea that we're killers, but we're not." She said, and made sure it was loud and clear. Was this girl some sort of weird woman-child? Maybe she had a different idea of how people should act, but these men... as stupid as they are, are just idiots. Criminals.

"We knock them out, and let the authorities deal with them, and that's it." She narrowed her eyes. "Stupid as they are, they're just criminals."

Ooh, now this would be an interesting treat - the eccentric kill-happy mosquito and the stoically rock hard mountain having a small dialogue over killing. While the bloodied girl acted crazy, she probably got the memo for taking them out in any way possible... probably. He did raise his eyebrows and shook his head at her calling it fun, a little disturbing... acting as if this was some sorta game. Was he really this damn desperate for Nomads?

Regardless, with Miss Brenda rocking it on next, he eyed her as she spat back at the younger fellow. Jonas dug his arms a little deep in, with the edges of his lips curling a shade downward. She didn't know what the life of a Nomad was like, there's no way in hell she would understand due to her own naivety in that area... hmph, Brenda would learn soon enough that self-righteousness and knocking some dips down would not be the best choice of action... especially ones that only care for the smell of fresh cash.

Criminals or not, the best enemy was a dead one... after all, you gotta increase your chances of survival.

The tattered, pale skinned girl visibly flinched at Brenda’s words. Her excited demeanor quickly withered, her limbs falling to her sides like heavy lead weights as a grimace flashed across her face. Brown realized it had happened without her knowing. Again.

“Uh, yeah that’s what I meant. Sorry!”

Brown forced a smile and nodded her head.

“I can kill- I mean I can’t kill- No wait, uhhhh. I can smash people in the face without killing them! Yeah. That’s why I have this!”

Reaching into her back pants pocket she pulled a dark wooded yo-yo out into the light. It was fairly large in her hand, heavy and covered in deep nicks and faint scratches. The Yo-yo didn’t look like anything you could get in any proper store. Just the grain of the wood made it clear it’d been carved up and put together by hand.

“This can’t kill people. I mean, it can, but it's not as easy. Well no that’s not true either. As long as I don’t crush their heads then they should live, right? Yeah. This will work.”

Brenda was left less than impressed when she heard Brown's speech.

"... Cross the line, and I'm going to be the one to put a stop to your games, Missy." Brenda spoke dead seriously, because she was never one to play games. Especially with kids that thought life was a game.

Jonas was less than impressed by the girls display of weaponry, though he did see this pint sized powerhouse fuck up most of these goons out here, so what was he to judge about her yo-yo's? Regardless, he listened to the rest of the conversation as he pivoted around to some of the blood-stained crooks and knelt down next to one. Plunging down into possible corpse, his hand latched onto one of his knives lodged into the spine of one of the gangsters.

"It doesn't matter how ya put them down, just make sure they don't contact other members or blow this place to smithereens," Jonas shouted out as he ripped out a bloodied knife from someones back... a girl in her twenties who was probably never gonna walk again... Twirling the knife around, he pulled out some cloth from his bag and begun to rub down most of the grime and crusts of crimson.

"Yo, Otsana, did you get what I said?"

The mercenary looked back from her work, already having made short work of the first bomb. "You think that the Soldiers are trying to use these bombs to create a diversion to steal the prize money. Makes sense to me. You want us to undertake a sneaking mission to go find the rest of the chucklenuts with the bombs, secure the detonation remotes, and clean house. Do everything right and we come out looking like heros. Fuck up and," she shrugs, "We either end up smears on the wall or looking like terrorists outselves."

"Alright, glad t'see we're on the same page," Jonas chirped as he put the knife back into his coat and began extracting the others. It was a bit messy, but he wasn't at all dissuaded by some of these brain-damaged dips or soon to be rotting corpses as he continued. "Let me get the rest of these, then we ca-"

"Aaaaaaaalright ladies and gentlemen!" Andre's voice on the speakers was so loud that it could be heard from outside the building. "I hope you all kept yourselves occupied during the break, because the first round is abooooooout to begin!"

"Knew this was coming..." Brenda said, as she put a hand on her hip. "We don't got a lotta time... Wolfgirl, I'll cover you. Lead the way."

"Seriously? Its been that long already," Jonas grumbled, looking up with an expression that matched what he said - jaw slightly agape, one eyebrow shot so far up that it could be apart of the clouds if it wasn't blonde. Instead of handling the knife with extreme precision and slow care, he began to rush the process a bit, one second removing the stained crimson, next bunny-hopping all the way over to the next corpse of a man to tear out his blade.

"Well then, Otsana's in charge of you guys considering most of y'all were louder than her last night," Jonas spoke up in a reverberating, rushed voice as he sloppily cleansed his next blade before moving onto the next. "Other than that, with her experience, I'm certain she'll be stand out as much as a cactus in Nevada."

Brown's head turned and she looked at the stadium, feeling the vibrations of the announcement running through her veins. She bit her lower lip, feeling slightly sick as she was once again reminded of her failure. Placing her hands in the dirt she pushed herself to her feet and turned to the others.

"Well then let's get going then! Let's beat up the bad guys, stop the stadium from blowing up, and become heroes!" Brown shouted, throwing up an arm in a cheer before a draining, guttural rumble from her stomach stopped her.

"Um. Before we do that...does anyone want something to eat?" Brown turned around and ran off, quickly coming back with the pile of hand packed red bento boxes her mother had made for her. "I have enough to share if you want..."

"... I'll get you that juice box."

"Yaaaaaay!" Brown shouted in an elated, childish cry of satisfaction.