---

---

"Wait, what?!"

With the mention of the black-cloaked figure in the inn, Cuphead's eyes widened in shock. He didn't even notice them in one of the rooms as the group went upstairs. Sparx seemed to be freaking out a little bit, circling around Bentley in nervousness. "Hey, It's alright Sparx! If those three are here, we can take em, right guys?" He asked the rest, a hopeful smile on his face. Cuphead remembered fighting the three headed dragon, Grim Matchstick, back in Inkwell, so he was confident that fighting the trio from Sparx's world wouldnt be hard.

Right?

Bentley said that they should go investigate, and Taric had suggested that they go confront the cloaked figure, but Shantae shot the suggesstions down, saying she could instead shapeshift and spy on them. Overall, the others seemed to be worried about the dragonfly, who had exclaimed that he can fight too. "Oh, I'm not opposing to that, bud. I almost got killed fighting a queen bee back home, so I bet you're very strong too!" Cuphead reasured Sparx as the others talked.

And just like that, the plan that Bentley had effectively formed in his head, had to be changed as soon as Taric opened his mouth and asked if they should confront the hooded figure. The plan would have been three-fold, involving a distraction, some thieving and possibly an elaborate and long chase-scene in a boat or plane. The level of secrecy was also put into question, when Taric spoke casually and not in the hushed tone Bentley had wished for. The turtle shook his head, again missing his board of which he usually put up his plans.

The comment of him being helped down the stairs was less of a concern, though he did appriciate it. "That's kind of you, Taric, but I'll manage with these." As Bentley spoke, a pair of robotic arms emerged from the wheels of his wheelchair, giving Taric a wave before retracting again.

It was then that the Shantea, the female human seemed to agree with Bentely, putting forth the idea of her transforming(!?) and spying on the figure. "Exactly my thoughts, Miss Shantae! Now, as I was saying..." Bentley wanted to put forth a full plan, but the dragonfly Sparx started flying erratically around his head. It made the poor turtle a little bit dizzy, not used to such sights unless hit on the head. Though it's fright did appear to be changed with an attitude of fighting-spirit, which was sort of good. But then again.

"We'll fight if we must and I'll do my part, but I think 'knowing thy enemy' is a prime concern as of now, people. What I propose is that some of us get outside unseen and surrounds the building, making his escape harder to go undetected. I can use my binoculars to observe him from a rooftop, while...well I actually don't know what you guys can do. But whatever we do, we should do it fast. Who knows what that dark hood-guy is about to do?"

Taric supposed that a subtle route, as suggested by Shantea and Bently, might be a better option than just storming down there and making a scene, particularly if there was the potential for other lowlifes to be skulking around trying to get the drop on them. After Bently politely assured Taric he was perfectly fine using the stairs without assistance by showing of his robotic arms, Taric supposed clarification of his own abilities could come in handy.

”Personally I prefer a more head on solution to problems like you seem to Cuphead, but I can see the merit of caution in this situation. As for what I can do, other than general roughhousing, I can use these beauties.” he plucked one of the gemstones floating behind him from its place, bringing it forwards to show it off for a moment. The flawless blue crystal sparkle radiantly, reflecting the rooms light while also giving off a soft glow all of its own. When he released it a few moments later it quickly flew back up to re-join its fellows. ” to offer protection, probably in a similar manner to how you might do it Sparx. Also, if any of you are injured I can provide healing, so long as I get a few hits in on the bad guys with Bravado here first, to charge that power up.” He gently patted the palm of his free hand with the head of the mace to clarify that its was what he was referring too.

”If some of us are to get outside unseen while Shantea is doing reconnaissance, then I recommend the window back there. I imagine I wouldn't be to good at the sneaking about gathering info, however I could probably help lower someone down or give them a boost up so they can do that.”

Taric said as he walked over to said window and opened it, poking his head outside to get an understanding of how tricky getting down to the ground, or perhaps up to the roof, would be.

One after another, the other attendees voiced their questions to Vault Boy. They posed him inquiries about Markarth -the beleaguered city to which they would be deployed in the near future-, about lethality, and a handful of other topics, but none ended up concerning Azura more than her own. To her diminutive host's reply she gave a grateful nod of acknowledgment, saying, “49th floor, understood. I will pay them a visit before we depart.”. His usage of the word 'suit', evocative of heavy protective wear, did not thrill her, but she could ill afford to turn down necessary gear that appeared to be free of charge. A gracious guest did not refuse a gift, and even if she happened to dislike the style of clothing offered, the thought of braving an alpine landscape in dancer's garb struck her as singularly idiotic.

By the time that the other questions were dealt with in the same sequential manner as asked, the meeting had grown the air of being over with. Preparing to leave, Azura stood, only to be momentary distracted by another embarrassing exchange from the man on the other side of the enchanted image. How ghastly for that poor woman. I couldn't imagine working with such a flippant combination of immaturity and ego. She remained standing behind her chair as Vault Boy addressed everyone once again, this time with a definite note of finality. As luck would have it, a pertinent tidbit of information came in that package: her solution to Skyrim's cold climate could be found in the same area of the castle as the departure point for the mission. Furthermore, all those involved were to receive a vaccine. Azura sported some familiarity with the word, having heard it in medicinal circles in reference to an altered version of a pathogen that would grant someone injected with it heightened resistance to that pathogen, but Vault Boy mentioned it so casually that she suspected it to be more advanced than the medicines of her world. After all, in her realm remedies for disease and injury often came in the form of magic, and words like 'vaccine' seldom left theoretical circles. Nevertheless, she imagined that this would be necessary. If this Mugen virus posed as much of a threat as she'd been led to believe, Azura needed an immunization to stand half a chance.



“Well, miss? What do you think?”

Azura looked herself over, each movement making her aware of the weight of the cloth. The dress whipped up by the inventors of Floor 49 could just as easily have been a robe or coat, as it combined elements from all three. Simply but effective, with layers engineered to withstand the bite of wind and to deny the entry of snow, it fit very well over her ordinary clothes. Even in the details she could have not asked for better; it worked perfectly with her veil, leaving only her upper face exposed, and the hood sported a slit in the back for her long hair to fall through so as to not bunch up inside. Despite herself, Azura smiled. “It is comfortable. And very warm.” The inventor looked pleased to hear it. Her eagerness almost made the princess bashful. “But isn't it a bit...stark?”

She gestured at the cloth, which appeared white as snow itself. It made her stand out, which in turn made her more uncomfortable than the average person would realize. The inventor, however, shook her head. “The outermost layer is reversible. Inside, it's a light purplish-gray. Perfect for blending into rock, or the dark. While right now it's amazing for disappearing into a snowscape!” She put her hands on her hips, laughing. “I hope I didn't presume too much, but you struck me as someone who doesn't like being the center of attention.

Azura replied with a laugh of her own, albeit a nervous one. Is it that obvious? Closing her eyes, she bowed her head. “Thank you. I know you said that payment isn't required earlier, but for such a nice and warm dress, custom-made so quickly...if there's anything I can do to help you, please don't hesitate to call on me.”

Further words, however, would have to wait. While not egregious, the delay had placed her well behind the rest in terms of mobilization. With as much speed as she could muster without breaking her composure, Azura hastened to the 49th Floor's transport room. There, she hefted her Blessed Lance and strode through the portal to the land of Skyrim, her vaccination performed while she had been waiting.

She arrived just in time to her the President stop speaking. For a brief moment her face gave uncharacteristically full voice to her disbelief, though she reverted to an impartial expression the next instant. Him!? Even now his words dripped with self-absorption and cavalier offhandedness. How are we supposed to get anything done with this buffoon at the helm? She took a deep breath. No matter—she'd suffered through far worse. As much as the thought of singing for him offended her, Azura had a duty to fulfill here. She rested the butt of her lance on the stone, and in a voice colder than the surrounding air, replied, “As you wish, Boss.”

Phoenix Wright pressed his palms on the tile floor. His own joke did severely hurt his morale. He could feel his knees shaking a bit as they held him together. The lawyer mumbled which might have come off more as a complaint. "I'm an ace attorney, not a comedian." Wright then wondered what his 8 years of college led toward. Picking his head up, he examined everyone. His education took him to a place with a bear, bird, cyborg woman, an angsty teenager, and a kid in pajamas to fight two drummers in a joke battle.

While Phoenix Wright was taking some breathing exercises, a lot had occurred. He put some extra push on the floor to get back on his feet. Apparently, the drummer boys made a mistake and tried to bomb the party to smithereens. Wright did not notice save for the kid wearing the sleeping attire. Like a hero, he took the giant, explosive weapon and hurled it elsewhere. The ace attorney felt odd that a kid acted with such selflessness. Hell, he has been acting selflessly this entire time. One of the main reasons that the party members prone to fighting were not trying to duel the drummers was because of Frisk.

Phoenix Wright kept a mental note and suggested that she should congratulate Frisk on a job well done, face to face. Luckily, his heroics did cause the enemy to have a change of heart. Without any conflict necessary, they chose to show us the way to the King. Looks like it all took just a moment of saving grace. Not practical, but Wright was glad it happened either way. When they arrived, Wright was not certain if he should be surprised any longer.

Of course, the drummer boys introduced the party to a giant whale. Phoenix Wright immediately regretted his life choices leading up to this moment when the whale began to speak in an accent. "So it talks," Wright hummed. Keeping his ears opened, he listens to the conversation being held between both parties. Things were looking grim as the whale assured that the others wouldn't take kindly to a passive approach. Phoenix Wright began sweating.

---

Warwick growled at Slayer's comment, but he didn't offer any retort, instead focusing on keeping his bloodlust from taking completely over and instead went to throw the vampire over his shoulder. Instead he found his jaws empty as his opponent vanished, a snapping sound coming from his mouth as the teeth snapped against each other. Moments later, his opponent reappeared to his left, purple flames enveloping his arm as he swung. Warwick let loose a howl of frustration and then swung himself with all his might towards the gentleman vampire. Both blows would connect, both combatants would be sent in the opposite direction from their opponent's, but only Warwick, the Wrath of Zaun, would fail to fully recover as the blow's effects set in, making him stumble slightly side to side.

Meanwhile, Akira would find that his blade had clashed with Giggles's left cleaver and a fist was thrown his way as well, but given his increased agility over that of the hulking Abomination's, he avoided it and danced back, peppering the undead creature with bullets. However, it would quickly become apparent that Giggles either didn't feel pain, or didn't acknowledge it, as it continued towards him at it's lumbering gait, giggling the entire way. Executor wouldn't have the easy time that Darion did dispersing the black snakes drawing away his life force, but Six would find that even after her teleport, a sextuple of throwing knives came her way, followed closely by the great axe wielding humanoid himself.

Heavy, however, found that charging the Death Knight Darion Mograine was a mistake, as the first blow, aimed at his head, was intercepted by a block, and the second met with a fist of Darion's own, his undead might allowing him to match Heavy blow for blow. "An admirable effort. You'd make a powerful Death Knight." He broke off from the Russian giant and swung for his gut as the man reached to grab him. Both met with partial success, with the blow from Darion doubling Heavy over, but Heavy's grapple was turned into a push as a result that sent the Death Knight into the wall of the bubble. As he was picking himself up, the Unholy magic that made up his skull attack forming in his hand, the PA came alive.

"Time to call it quits folks! Heroes, you lasted longer than anyone on the train had bet you would, though it turns out Mister Mograine was holding back, pity that. Anyways, King Boo's castle is our next stop. Best get ready!" Warwick, who was just finishing an exchange of blows with Slayer, limped off further down while Executor and Giggles disappeared into the crowd, the latter leaking green...liquid. The one who remained was the Death Knight, who strode over to the group.

"A good fight. Perhaps I can convince some of you to visit Ebon Hold and help teach our newer knights how to deal with the unexpected some time. Regardless, our time is short. I once visited King Boo in my own quest to conquer the Hallow's End challenge. He was more cunning than I'd given the ghost credit for." He waited for the group to reconvene before speaking directly to Slayer. "King Boo can make himself intangible to all but the most potent of magics. The young one may be your best bet to disrupt his invincibility." The train could be felt stopping and after a moment, the doors opened, revealing a castle that looked a lot like a mansion. A pair of skeleton's ushered the group off and the Headless Horseman came down the line from the direction of the engine. He had his fake pumpkin head on, in order to move more efficiently, and a saber sheathed on his waist.

"I've got to get all the yahoos on the train back to their home zones. That'll take...four or five hours. I'll be back by then, but you have six to find and beat the Boo. Good luck." He disappeared back towards the engine and soon after the train started moving again. Soon, it was only the heroes and the open gate to the mansion, which beckoned them forwards.

---

GM Note: From now on, all players will be required to keep track of their word count. XP will be awarded every GM post. Be sure to check the XP hider to see how much XP your character earned. Remember to keep your CSes updated. I have seen players slack in keeping their XP up-to-date and they have lost XP points because of it. I didn't take the XP away from them, they just didn't keep track of the XP on their own. It is YOUR responsibility if you want your character to level.


If a player is inactive for more than 3 days without letting the GMs know of any delays, then the player can be skipped over on the 4th day. If a player does not wish to post, they can Mention the GM and let the GM know he or she "Passes" on his or her turn.

P.O.: Slayer, Akira, Heavy, and Six.

Nodding in thanks to Vault Boy for his answer on lethality, he decided to demegamerge for the vaccination process, which resulted in him looking more like his normal self. He then turned to the very clearly a robot and opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Vault Boy's answers to their various questions. The answer to his own made the most sense, considering they were going into unknown territory with unknown foes, but that didn't make ignoring other potential enemies, or simple incapacitation, ideal either. After it was all said and done, the group was dismissed and he approached the red chested robot. "In answer to your question, these steel gods could very well be Pseudoroids or Mavericks, highly dangerous robots who want to do little more than kill and destroy. Both should be put down with extreme prejudice, no questions asked, for the safety of others."

Not waiting for a retort, he headed off to the 49th floor, where the vaccination scientist was confused. "But...aren't you a machine of some type?" Vent sighed and shook his head, already knowing how this conversation was going to go.

"No, I'm human. I can...you know what, to save us another twenty minutes of arguing, how about we do both vaccinations?" He megamerged back into Model ZX, taking the chip from the scientist and absorbing it into his armor. At least this way, as he gained his other megamerges, they would be immune to the virus. He then returned to his human form and got a shot. With that done, he approached the portal and looked at it, reflecting on where his life had gone to reach this point. After becoming the Megaman X, he had faced one insane enemy after another, one of those enemies being the Pseudoroid responsible for the death of his mother. After defeating Serpent, he had gone on to fight off the other Megamen of the models he'd used to defeat Serpent and Model W, hunting them down even after Master Albert's defeat and reclaiming the stolen models F, H, P and L. He now had them waiting for his need of them, on the other side of a portal similar to this on the Guardian's airship. Well, time to take the leap.

Jumping through, he arrived behind this Mister President guy, who waited until the others arrived to inform that that A), he was just to be called Boss after making a slue of references to things he'd never heard of, and B), that they were to follow his orders. At this point, the Megaman was torn between turning around and waiting for the next mission, megamerging and blasting the asshole into oblivion, or going his own way. The internal tug of war was brief before he just accepted things that were beyond his control. "Alright, Boss it is. I'm Vent, the Model X and ZX Megaman and only Megaman capable of Double Megamerging. Not that I expect anyone to understand that since I didn't understand anything 'Boss' was talking about."

It was a touching conclusion to what could have been a violent altercation. Cloud was actually amazed that the would-have-been battle with the Senior Poppy Bros turned out to be a peaceful resolution. The ex-SOLDIER gazed upon Frisk differently. No longer did he see them as a child. Perhaps it was a good idea that they were a leader on this mission for if it had been his more violent teammates, then who knew how messy the situation would have been? Cloud walked over to Alicia and Frisk as the First Bro wept at their feet and begged for forgiveness. He was quiet throughout the exchange. All he did was listen until their pacifism resulted in the Senior Bros volunteering to get them passed the fourth floor. A small smile curved on Cloud’s face at that relief. They were closer and closer to the end.

The swordsman joined his group in following the bros to the fourth floor. He could smell salt and a dampness on the air. The sea? When an ocean actually appeared to be all the fourth floor was, his mouth dropped a little. If they hadn’t won the Bros’ favor, then the level would have been absolutely treacherous. Bursting from the water, a fat whale called “Fatty” (no kidding) soared over Cloud’s head. He watched the massive whale plunge into the water without even causing a tidal wave and then paddle over to them. They would have had to fight a whale? Was that a pipe!?

After barely any leg-pulling, or in Fatty’s case, fin-tugging, the whale agreed to let them all safely pass. Cloud closed his eyes again. They were just being spared a horrible situation one after the other.

“Frisk; I think I’m gonna have to buy you an ice cream after this,” Cloud told the kid leader.

However, the warning about the boss or more like “bosses” in the next room put the swordsman on edge. His relieved and happy expression sharpened with sternness. He didn’t like the sound of that warning. After the Poppy Bros thanked Frisk and the rest of Dedede’s goons bade them goodbye, as the group started walking, Cloud voiced his concern just as Frisk was getting excited: “Your pacifism may not work this time, Frisk.”

Alicia shared similar concerns. He agreed when she mentioned King Dedede and the virus he was infected with. “It’s true. You will have to be careful.”

---

The third floor was a dark chamber without a speck of light. Within it, the hard floors of the castle became soft grass and the air smelling of fresh-cut grass and soil. There was a breeze. Were they suddenly outdoors? It wasn’t until all the heroes had entered the chamber that the door and their only source of light vanished. On the third floor, the only sounds were the whispers of the grass being stroked by the breeze.

Well, well, well…if it ain’t those punks who broke into our king’s castle.

These guys don’t look so tough. I heard they made Marx look like nothin’.

He was nothin’, and if they think we’re gonna go down like him, then we’re about to make their life a living hell.

The light that appeared was sudden and blinding. It appeared in the sky, lighting the entire room and revealing it to be an open grassy plain. In the sky was a wickedly smirking sun, and next to him was a crescent moon.

“Shine!” the sun exclaimed.

The moon flew in front of the sun, casting the plain into darkness with only the silver light from his glowing form.

“Bright!” the moon exclaimed.



Mr. Shine scowled and then flew around him, flying down to gaze upon the heroes a little closely; and the closer the sun approached them, the hotter things became. Mr. Shine stopped at a distance that wouldn’t fry them and would either give them a tan or a horrible sunburn after. He continued to smile impishly down at the group as Mr. Bright flew next to him.

“I bet they can’t stand the heat,” Mr. Shine laughed.

Mr. Bright crossed his cartoony arms before his crescent-like shape. “The dark is scarier.”

“No; it’s not.”

“Yes; it is.”

Mr. Shine flew into Mr. Bright, their faces crashing against each other as they glared tensely into each other’s eyes.

“I bet you I’ll end these punks with a sneeze! I just need you to go away so I can do it!”

“How about you go away! I will slay them with my LUNAR BLADES (echo)!”

“Your blades are lame! They’ll see them coming a mile away.”

“Yeah, like your flame wave!”

The star and moon defensively separated and raised their fists in anger. The two were glaring harshly at each other.

“There’s only one way to settle this!” Mr. Bright growled.

The two fell silent and then thrust out their fists. Mr. Bright had paper and Mr. Shine had rock. Mr. Shine’s eyes widened. “No way! Best two out of three!”

“Nope! This first blood is mine. Get your ass back into the sky!”

Mr. Shine turned red for a moment before he growled and flew high into the sky to keep the room lit. As Mr. Shine distanced himself, Mr. Bright landed on the ground before the heroes, flexing his arms. “You punks came to the wrong floor!”

Mr. Bright leapt into the air and became a white razor-sharp wheel. He struck the floor and went rapidly rolling toward the group, his body sending severed grass blades flying whichever way.

---

GM Note: From here on out, all players will be required to keep track of their word count. XP will be awarded every GM post. Be sure to check the XP hider to see how much XP your character earned. Remember to keep your CSes updated. I have seen players slack in keeping their XP up-to-date and they have lost XP points because of it. I didn't take the XP away from them, they just didn't keep track of the XP on their own. It is YOUR responsibility if you want your character to level.




If a player is inactive for more than 3 days without letting the GMs know of any delays, then the player can be skipped over on the 4th day. If a player does not wish to post, they can Mention the GM and let the GM know he or she "Passes" on his or her turn.

P.O.: Frisk, Alicia Harnick, Banjo & Kazooie, and Cloud.

”fair enough” Piper responded to the councils complete lack of info ”Guess I’ll ask this stormcloak guy the same thing when we meet him”

As for Vent’s explanation of his question about lethality, Piper supposed these Pseudoroids and Mavericks where something akin to vectron’s voltbots in nature: dangers to everyone. Though even they had their exceptions in the form of the free willed Fen, who was still part of Piper’s crew. It at least let her get an opinion of him, an uptight military sort who might struggle with remembering that the he was not in his own world anymore and thus that his assumptions might not be valid. All in all, that was better than the insane president, but she felt he might be the kind of person who did what he was told rather than what was right, and that was exactly the kind of person she had decided not to be when she deserted the military.

After Vent had dumped his explanation at her feet she headed up with the others to the 49th floor. There, after a lot of finagling to get the digital vaccination to integrate with her analog steam tech, she stepped up to the portal. Think of it as just another heist, she reassured herself Only this time it’s a city that we’re breaking into rather than a ship

She stepped through the gate, still wearing her santa hat, and moments later found herself in skyrim. For a few moments after she arrived, Piper just stood there absorbing the snowy landscape in front of her, before crouching down and grabbing a handful of the stuff. The soft white powder sieved through her loose grip in such a fascinating manner.

”Guess this is why water aint worth anything to these people, it’s just laying around all over the place” she muttered to herself.

After standing back up she retrieved her trusty blacksmith sniper, an plain Gunmetal revolver sporting a scope on the top, from a pouch on her hip and proceeded to load it, one shell at a time. They were in potentially dangerous territory now, so it did well to be prepared. While she had used everything from flintlocks to harpoons to semi autos to laser guns, it was always nice to be using old reliable steambot tech again. The blacksmith cost a hell of a lot less to maintain than the other options that was for shure. Along with that she had the Carrion Pistol, a slug thrower that could fire basically any kind of ammo you shoved into it. With its bigger clip, higher rate of fire and dreadful accuracy it was better for when fighting got up close and personal, as was the single brass knuckle she had stored close at hand incase they got in a scuffle.

After her gun was locked and loaded she listened with the other to their ridiculous buffoon of a leader ramble on about themselves for who knew how long. She liked the tone Azura took with him though, now there was a woman who did not appear to suffer fools gladly, though she also failed to introduce herself. Vent meanwhile caught onto the issue with the boss’s speech while knowingly suffering from the exact same issue. Piper did her best to be general with her descriptions of her accolades as a result.

”I’m Piper. Captain Piper. I’m a smuggler by trade. My planet also exploded, though that was before I was built, and we now live on the broken chunks that remain. My crew and I have battled against zombie space pirates, dethroned the queen of what's left of the world for being a tyrant and stopped a buncha hive minded, raygun wielding, volt powered, robots from beyond the moon from wiping everyone else out coz they thought they were superior to us.” She spun her revolver round her fore finger once before concluding ”If I’m interpreting all the technobabble correctly, that’s probably all a pretty standard stuff for this team?”

Claws of keratin met claws of flame, sending up sparks as the two sets of weapons slid off one another rather than clanging together. The tremendous momentum of both combatants carried through to strike the other's chest, and the next instant the force slid the two apart. Thanks to the odd impact, their slashing blows managed to convey pushing power rather than cutting power, creating the distance between them. Slayer glanced down at his chest, then at his lupine opponent. Some satisfaction tickled him as he noticed that Warwick got the worse deal out of their exchange by a long shot, but the damage to his suit jacket and tie disgruntled him to such a degree that any joy was buried. Complaining could come later, however; for now, Slayer had a fight to win. Through gritted teeth, he told the werewolf, ”I admit I respect your ferocity, but I've gotten a bead on your one-track mind. Steady yourself; this may get rough.” He clenched his fist and began to move.

The next second, the PA sounded off once again, interrupting the four-way fight. Its first words brought an official end to the warm-up battle. With a wry smile, Slayer relaxed his stance, slipping his hands into his pockets. ”Color me surprised that you lot would think so little of us,” he told Warwick, who turned his back and limped away in a huff. One by one the other fighters departed, all except the Death Knight, whose approach bespoke of a bonus of conversation. ”Should I have the time, I'd be happy to lend a hand,” he said in response to the warrior's request. His gaze grew more interested as his acquaintance's speech shifted to strategy. An intangible enemy, eh? ”Gracious of you t'let me know. I'll keep that in mind.” With a slight bow of his head, he bid the Death Knight farewell. It wasn't long at all before the train, already slowing down, came to a halt. The nearby doors slid open, and Slayer strode up to the car's edge.

Before him lay a grim vista; twisted black trees, spectral blue flame, a wrought-iron gate, and a house that looked physically warped all screamed 'haunted'. Even the grass, a touch off-color, gave off an eerie vibe. Add to that a miasma of dark mist that made whatever lay on its other side wobble back and forth like jello and the scene could scarcely be more surreal. It made Slayer smile. ”Wouldja look at that!” He allowed the skeletons to lead him out at the head of his group, gesturing to the haunted mansion as he turned part-way around. ”Classic stuff. Perfect blend of barren and spooky, not too heavy on the décor, and the waverin' effect given by the mist makes it seem all dream-like. Jack-O'd have a fit, I'm sure.” He paused in his assessment as the Headless Horseman approached to talk about schedules—both his and theirs. As the Horseman spoke, Slayer adjusted what remained of his tie and dusted his jacket off. ”Six hours? Goodness, I hope it doesn't take that long.” By the time he finished, the Horseman was already gone, and with an ominous whistle the fabled Doom Train was rolling once more.

Slayer stroked his goatee, considering the path that lay before him. ”Hmm...well, we have nothin' if not time.” Holding his labels, he performed an about-face to address the group. ”Are you all well? I failed to pay as much attention to your fights as I should've. If everyone's in good shape, we can proceed with our little hunt.”

The Japanese teen could only furrow his brows when his blade didn't connect with skin. The normal neutral or sly smirk the phantom thief would have on turned to a frown as he easily managed to dodge away from Giggles large fist and attack with his gun, which was unfortunately doing very little damage for his liking. He knew the best option for him would be to move around the Abomination, stay on his toes and keep the thing from actually hitting him. Could he do that? Yeah, should be easy enough, right?

Luckily, Akira didn't have to think too much on it as the PA brought him to a halt, causing him to stumble forward a bit before regaining his composure. They were done? Akira couldn't help but blink innocently as he watched their opponents save for the Death Knight disappear into the crowd, Giggles in particular leaking green liquid. This prompted Akira to check his dagger and gun for said liquid before placing them back into their respective hiding places within his cloak. The remaining fighter from the other team gave mentions about helping him out later on and even some advice when it came to their objective and enemy. Not necessarily being a talker unless in the heat of battle, Akira simply nodded his thanks to the Death Knight as he left.

As the nearby doors slid open once the Doom Train come to a halt, Akira followed behind Slayer, giving a quick glance to his other allies before stepping out of the train. It wasn't really hard to miss, but this... building was a different kind of haunted than he was expecting. Yes, the ambiance alone was enough to make the boy shiver a little bit, but what really got him was how familiar this all was for him. A bitter sigh escaped his lips as he gazed almost angrily up at the so called 'castle' they were to enter. He shouldn't be feeling sorry for himself at a time like this. They had a job to do and they were going to get it done where he liked it or not... and just like last time. He wasn't in Japan anymore, which meant that this place has nothing to do with him other than the mission at hand. And although he was pretty sure the vampire couldn't read his thoughts, Slayer's chipper voice made him smile in agreement, especially when he mentioned something about 'Jack O'd', before his attention was brought to the Headless Horseman.

So they had six hours, huh?
"Shouldn't take long with all of us..." He mumbled just loud enough to be acknowledged. And with that the Doom Train and the Headless Horseman were both gone. Placing his hands back into his pockets, Akira glanced back at Slayer, who had questioned if everyone was alright. Well, other than the scratch on his cheek, he was feeling decent enough physically so he gave Slayer another nod before looking at the others to see if they were doing alright.

If the successful results of Pacifism alone were enough to brighten Frisk's day and give them hope and DETERMINATION, then the fact that Cloud was smiling and said that he was gonna have to buy Frisk ice cream after the mission further filled their heart with joy. They let out a happy gasp as a wide gaping smile of happiness stretched on their faces, and their hazel eyes open for once!

Eating ice cream with Cloud Strife? ...Yes, Please! (They could have sworn they heard a kazoo version of Cloud's victory music in the background!)

Frisk couldn't help but picture the future event as something similar to their date with Papyrus and Alphys, only with ice cream instead of spaghetti with an indescribable taste!

Frisk came down from the clouds when Alicia and Cloud voiced their concerns that the next floor bosses were not going to accept mercy like the Senior Brothers and Fatty did. After clearing their throat and putting their joy aside to focus on the mission, they nodded to the both of them and answered as their face went back to stoic facial expression, their voice somber, "I understand. Guys, this won't be the first time I face people who won't accept mercy. But if I see another way when we do face them, I'll let you guys know,"

They then lifted their cell phone and used the dimensional cube keychain on it to switch out the stick with the toy knife. They looked at it and for a moment saw dust on it, before it went back to being a clean plastic toy. They really hoped that they didn't have to use this.

Before they went for the room, they looked to Cloud and commented, "Oh! By the way, Cloud. You look even more awesome with a smile! ...Just so you know,"

Although that could come off as a flirt, Frisk meant it as a genuine compliment.

As they walked to the floor, Frisk noticed their stats, and noticed something that made them a little scared and confused. How did they gain L.O.V.E and Execution points from sparing those guys? Unless...Here, LV and EXP don't mean the same things as it does back home...? Shaking their head in order to not focus on it for now, they led the group forwards.



The next floor looked like it was outdoors. Frisk was surprised to see themselves standing in a field of grass. It was sort of like Waterfall with that grass, and yet...they were reminded of when they freed their friends and family and they all saw the surface once more. Come to think of it...that was their first memory of actually seeing the sun wasn't it?

The peaceful scenery of the outdoors was interrupted by two voices, giving a similar dialogue to the Senior Brothers' speech earlier. They looked up to see that the sun and moon were personified. When Mr. Shine came close to take a look at them, Frisk felt as though they were in Hotland once again, close to the lava, so the heat didn't bother them too much (or at least it didn't look like it).

Frisk merely shrugged at the mention of the dark being scary. Sure, it can be scary, but it was only scary because of what could be lurking in it.

They noticed that the sun and moon seem to fight each other a lot. They were practically the polar opposite of RG01 and RG02! So, they probably couldn't play matchmaker with them this time. Nor did they seem too interested in puns. They did seem to be interested in proving themselves better than the other...

Maybe having them face each other while they sneak by would be best? ...No.

No. Having them fight each other, and possibly kill each other, was wrong. Frisk couldn't do that.

Soon enough, the two already settled it with a match of Rock Paper Scissors, with Mr. Bright winning the match.

The fight soon began and Mr. Bright made himself a rolling blade, barreling towards them threatening to cut them to pieces. Frisk called to the others, while they dodged! "Dodge!"

As they dodged, they racked their brain, trying to figure out what they could do if not spare them. They noticed in their ACT menu, they had the option to flirt, and it was in a different text than normal. Was there was a special effect to this action now?

Once Mr. Bright was done with his first attack, Frisk figured they should try that flirt. They called to Mr. Bright to get their attention,

"Hey Mr. Bright!"

If they got his attention, then they would flirt with a wink,

"There must be something wrong with my eyes...because I can't take them off of you,"

Frisk is attempting to stun Mr. Bright.

---

Shantae had to admit that it was a little worrying that the bad guys Sparx mentioned might be here as well if the black cloaked man was here. She smiled at Sparx when he mentioned that he could fight too, and she listened as Cuphead reassured him saying that he almost got killed by a Queen Bee once. When Bently politely declined Taric's offer and showed off the mechanical arms, she couldn't help but think of her Uncle Mimic. He would probably have 1001 questions for the talking turtle. She could see the both of them getting into a long discussion involving inventions.

Wait...come to think of it, when Uncle Mimic finished building the 'Dynamo', or rather Risky Boots' version of the Dynamo that corrupted light magic into dark magic, Risky Boots came into the picture right away. How would she have had such good timing...unless she had been spying her and her friends? With that revelation in mind, and almost not paying attention to Taric when he gave his suggestions, she looked up at the ceiling. The Save Point Inn wasn't as open as the buildings back home. She looked at the door next, and with a look of suspicion, she quietly walked over to it. She opened it to a slight crack, enough for her to peek through. She caught sight of the black cloak heading for the stairs. She closed the door, just as quietly as she had opened it, and she looked to the others as she walked towards them.

She kept her voice low (hopefully to not further warn their target), but it was laced with agitation, urgency, and concern, "Guys...If we're gonna go with this plan, then we need to do it now. He is on this floor, heading for the stairs," Considering they just saw him downstairs with a large sleeping fat cat moments prior, even Shantae could connect the dots and realize what that means...

He had been eavesdropping on them

She whispered to them, "I'll cover the entrance. If he comes out there, I'll follow him. If any of you guys can follow without getting caught, then you are welcome to do so,"

It was clear that she wasn't going to wait. Her old habit as Guardian Genie was kicking in. She was going to rush in.

She started her transformation dance. After a quick belly dance and a final pose with light shining around her, her form changed into the same small purple monkey. Noticing that the window was already open, she darted towards it, and went through it. She skillfully climbed down the wall, and landed on the ground. She darted towards the entrance of the Save Point Inn, and hid nearby, so she could keep an eye out for that cloaked man, and follow him from a distance after he exits.

Concerned that a squabble may break out between the two robots (assuming both were actually robots), Ruben dismissed himself immediately, clicking his rifle back onto his body armor and making for the elevator. He moved swiftly, denying eye contact to the remainder of the group. A slight twinge of guilt hit him as the elevator doors closed and it began its ascent. He would be working with these people. Fighting with them. Maybe even saving them, if things went south. The least he could do would be to show some sort of camaraderie. After all, he hadn't been around the other XCOM operatives for more than a couple of missions, but he at least knew their names and faces. He hoped they were all still alive.

With that sobering thought in mind, Ruben stepped off the elevator and entered the 49th floor. According to "little dude," he was going to need a vaccine before being teleported off into oblivion. Well, maybe not oblivion, but likely the next best thing. He shook his head at the thought of entering a literal fantasy world. Magic and dragons, huh? He had been trained for aliens, but dragons? He wondered what Dr. Vahlen would say about it. She'd probably want a sample to research. He couldn't resist a slight smile as he was approached by a doctor holding a syringe and elastic band. He looked Ruben up and down.

"Well, you look ready to go. But I can't give you the vaccine with you dressed like that."

Ruben glanced down at his arms, both of which were covered by his thick kevlar-woven body suit.

"Oh. I see. One moment," he replied, unlatching his chestplate. The moment turned into ten minutes as Ruben was forced to remove his chest, shoulder, and elbow armor to access his body suit. Fortunately, the suit was in two pieces, and he only had to remove the shirt portion to bare his arm. He heard the elevator click behind him and listened to the footsteps and voices of other team members as they entered the room. He turned his head and caught site of a new person. They looked and sounded like the robotic individual from the dining room, but they were clearly a human being now. A series of bizarre noises and a bright flash of light indicated a transformation of some kind, and the human returned to a robotic state to absorb the anti-virus chip, after which he transformed back into a human to receive the liquid vaccine. Well, that was one question answered. That also meant that the boy could be treated with the Medikit if he were injured, which left only the steam-powered robot, who was nowhere to be seen. It had entered the room, received the anti-virus chip, and departed through the portal without a word to anyone. The blue-haired lady, on the other hand, was being fitted with winter wear for the upcoming mission. It looked like she might take a while. He turned back to face the doctor as the needle was removed from his arm.

"Good luck, soldier."

"Thank you, doctor," Ruben replied gruffly, squeezing back into his body suit and strapping the armor back into place. With nothing left to be said or exchanged, he jogged out of the room and through the portal, concerned that he may be missing a second briefing. Upon arrival, he was greeted with a blast of cold, the scent of fire, and the words “Hey guys, our guy’s in that fortress. Who wants to bet on it? Who doesn’t believe I’m right?”

The next few minutes were occupied by the Boss (self-referred, anyway) giving a detailed explanation of his leadership roles, none of which sounded particularly believable or plausible. It was confirmed, then, that he would be in charge of the mission. Ruben silently thanked the ruthless military discipline that had been drilled into him for keeping him in line. He was followed by the formal introduction of Vent, "the Model X and ZX Megaman." As expected, he didn't know what that meant, but apparently it was important. Introductions continued with Captain Piper, the steam-powered robot with a considerable amount of combat experience. Ruben couldn't help but notice a distinct lack of aliens in the list of enemies, so it looked like he was the only one in that particular business.

Silence fell as the group waited for him to speak. The woman made her appearance, but she looked too displeased with the Boss for formalities. Ruben took a breath, then threw up a proper Russian military salute.

"Squaddie Ruben Verislav, callsign Guardian, Support operative," he barked, making brief eye contact with the others, who waited for him to continue. Apparently, they were expecting some sort of special talents or military history, neither of which he possessed. From their appearance, none of them were from the Earth he knew and subsequently had never heard of the XCOM Initiative, so he decided to fall back on that. "I am a logistics and medical expert for the first response team of the XCOM division, a specialized department created fort the express purpose of combating extraterrestrial threat. As of now, Earth has been at war with an unknown enemy for one month. I am kitted out with one of the most powerful combat rifles ever designed, and I carry both a smoke grenade for visual cover and a Medikit for healing wounds via airborne stimulants." He motioned to the equipment, currently strapped to the side of his belt. He raised his arm and retrieved his rifle from his back, checking the magazine and closing the breach.

"Ready for orders, Boss."

Heavy had clearly underestimated his enemy's ability to counter his bullish assault on Death Knight. His massive right fist, aimed at the head, instead was blocked by the Death Knight's armoured arm with a loud metallic clang, while Heavy's left hand was met with another hand. The two of them stood there in what felt like a stand-off, both trying to gain the upper hand by their pure strength. Darion even threw an almost admirable comment at Heavy, hadn't it been for the Russian Bear not wanting to join any kind of bourgoise, feudal society of the Undead. "And you make a good...good...dead'er man, Undead Knight!"

Darion's gut-punch wasn't a sort of pain Heavy couldn't withstand, but the Undead Knight punched out all of the air in his lungs. As the air escaped Heavy's mouth in a form of a bellowing "Aaagh!", Heavy's grip around Darion's shoulder loosened enough for the Death Knight to escape his fate as a new door mat, but not enough as to not get throw away. Heavy too fell on the ground, gasping for air as he stumbled back onto his feet. Even without breath, The Heavy was still very much angry and willing to fight.

It was perhaps good then that the P.A. sparked back to life, declaring the fight for over and their destination as arriving very soon. Heavy's fist, which had been raised in a old fashioned boxer's stance ready for a new fight, slowly lowered down to hanging by his side as Heavy gave a looked of a slight confusion at the remaining people around him. "We lose, but they do not win?" To him this all seemed like a so-called 'Stalemate', situation which the Russian fighter never enjoyed. At least not until Darion said that it was a good fight and his wish to have them teach his kind something, which to Heavy was good enough to make him say "Not usually my job, but...hehe"

A simple type, Heavy was indeed.

At least once he set eyes on the massive, squared building of what had been referred to as "Boo's Castle". To him it didn't look like any castle he'd seen or heard of before, but then again this was a very different world than his, so he could be wrong. What was certain was that it was very big - like himself -, spooky - even if he wasn't scared -, and where they were headed next. The pumpkin-head man spoke briefly with them, clearly focusing on Slayer, giving them six hours to complete the mission. Heavy just smiled, looking from the building and onto Akira who agreed with him. "This will take little time. It usually never takes more than normal lunch break."

When Slayer asked if what shape they all were in, Heavy tried to feel if he felt more than normal pain. His legs: Check. Stomach: Check. Arms: Check. Head: ... Oh yes. Heavy rustled his hand around in his vaist pocket, pulled out something and holding out his palm for Slayer to see. "Nothing unusual, Comrade Slayer." Heavy said, leaving his teeth closed and showing what was a clear missing tooth in his jaw...and the tooth rested peacefully and bloody in his palm. Heavy looked at Akira, who appeared to be only scratched, before looking at little Six. "You all right, little friend Six?"

---

While the mysterious visitors were warping in and gathering, a sentry in one of the four towers guarding the wooden camp watched from a distance. Were there wizards gathering on the hill? He could hardly make out their forms. Maybe they were spies for the steel gods? The sentry turned and yelled down to the Nord guards below: “Wizards to the west!”

One of the guards sprinted for one of the various animal skin tents that covered the camp grounds. The tent had a pair of antlers above it, marking it as the leader’s camp. The Nord barged in. Several men, one of them being Ulfirc Stormcloak himself looked up from a wooden table that had the map of Markarth stretched across it.

“Wizards are in the west!” the guard breathlessly reported.

Ulfric’s blonde brows furrowed with suspicion. “Wizards?”

He glanced to his two generals before he followed the guard back to the sentry tower. Climbing the wooden ladder, Ulfric joined the sentry and gazed up the path at a gathering of awkward and colorful bodies. They must have been the reinforcements he had called for. Why so little? He gazed down the ladder at the guard who stood below.

“Send a scout to bring them here before the enemy finds them,” he ordered.

The guard looked surprised. Weren’t they the enemy? He didn’t question his lord, however, and instead sought out a scout as he was commanded.

Ulfric watched the scout as he quickly raced up the path toward the suspected wizards. If they were with the enemy, then he would know if the scout didn’t safely return. As the scout approached the group, he stopped a few feet away, gawking at their various appearances. When he saw Captain Piper, the one who looked the most like a machine, his face paled and immediately he screamed, turned tail, and ran away.

“The enemy has come!” the scout shouted over and over.

Ulfric, hearing the scout’s distant shouts, scowled. He couldn’t believe that he was wrong. He faced his camp and bellowed, “The enemy is at our gates! Ready the archers! I want ten men to retrieve the scout and do battle with the enemy. The rest of you remain here and prepare to hold this camp with your lives!”

Leaving the wooden camp, came ten Nords wearing bear fur and brandishing weapons from claymores to axes. The scout was safely received and continued passed the group of warriors to safely make his return to camp. Within seconds, the group was to be confronted by Stormcloaks.

---

GM Note: XP has been initiated. Any actions or decisions your characters decide to make will affect the mission from this point on. Consequences can either be positive or negative. The results are only seen every GM post.


If a player is inactive for more than 3 days without letting the GMs know of any delays, then the player can be skipped over on the 4th day. If a player does not wish to post, they can @Mention the GM and let the GM know he or she "Passes" on his or her turn.

P.O.: Mr. President, Azura, Vent, Captain Piper, and Ruben.

Frisk's acceptance of the fact that combat, and the enemy dying as a result, was potentially their only way out was...surprising for the Titan, as so far he had looked for every other route that would both get them through and leave an enemy alive, to potentially ambush them from behind. Admittedly, that was a thought brought on by the familiar feeling of being in the territory of enemies who she wondered if they understood the concept of mercy. Regardless, three of the floors were now done regardless of how they were passed, which left only a couple more before they faced down the King himself; were they ready for it when the time came?

Alicia shook her head as the door to the next area came into sight. Of course they would be, they were there to protect the entirety of the multiverse after all.



The next room after the whale's was covered in what was clearly a normal field of grass, though it was darker than hell, much like the room with the Poppy Bros before they had revealed themselves. For a moment, just one, the Stalwart would wonder if perhaps the whale had been overbearing in his judgement and perhaps they could talk their way past the next boss, or bosses. However, the banter that picked up would carry in it a maliciousness that, at least to the Titan, was almost palpable. Before the pair lit up the room, the Doctrine of Passing's butt was braced against her shoulder, sweeping side to side looking for the sources of sound before they revealed themselves as personifications of the sun and the moon...well, crescent moon.

The sun flew close, raising the temperature of the area around it severely, but having been on Mercury, the heat registered in a "Hey, this is hotter than normal, but survivable" way. The moon, on the contrary, kept his distance and simply stated the dark was scarier. This sparked an argument and the pair went at it, which lead Alicia to hope, for a brief moment, perhaps their rivalry would do their job for them and they could pick off the survivor to get the door open, but instead, a game of rock, paper, scissors decided who they'd face. It was unorthodox, all things considered since it was about to be a duel to the death between this Mister Bright and the group of heroes, but then unorthodox was sometimes the best way to go.

Within moments, the crescent moon was spinning like a saw blade and zooming at them from across the field, cut grass flying up in the air. As Frisk called for the group to dodge, Alicia was already sprinting to the side, her auto rifle coming alive as she aimed at the spinning moon and fired. There was not much in the way of cover, so their best bet was to stay mobile, which meant that using the Bolt-Caster was out of the question, not that she'd land a hit with it the way he kept moving.

---

And it was like he was in a room with a bunch of Titans, wanting to plan things out and attempt to take out the man in the black cloak. If there was one thing that James was certain of, it was that Guile wouldn't appreciate being disturbed again because of yet another outbreak of fighting that the Hunter was involved in, but before he could give his input, which was that their best bet was to hide Sparx somewhere and just walk out like nothing happened and they hadn't seen or noticed him, a dozen things happened at once. First Cuphead revealed he was perhaps the only one, or one of them, who hadn't noticed the guy downstairs and that he didn't doubt Sparx's strength since he'd almost been killed by a Queen Bee. "Giant Bees where he's from? Wonder what their honey output is..."

The Nightstalker left his Ghost to his musings as he attempted to put a stop to Bentley's plan before someone got hurt, since that's what they were asking for with an attempt to observe the guy, though he gave the fashion obsessed, gem controlling, mace wielding guy props for offering to help the wheelchair bound turtle out down the stairs. But he was further cut off by the same guy as he described what it was he could do and then stating sneaking wouldn't be a strong point for him, something James agreed with wholeheartedly, but he could lower someone down. "Guys, I don't thi-"

This time it was the purple haired...Guardian Genie, something that the Guardian didn't want to try and figure out what that meant, cut him off. She had gone over to the door to the room and carefully cracked it before closing it just as carefully and approaching the group that he was heading to the stairs after listening in on them. Of course, as he once again went to tell them they should just head for the castle, the Genie did a weird dance and became..."A monkey? I don't even..."

"Later, Charger. We need to put a sto-Ah damn it." And off she went as Charger materialized, the Crimson Shelled Ghost watching her go for a moment before turning back.

"James, I've tagged her as friendly. You can find her like that." James nodded before turning to the others, his face somewhat stoney.

"OK, here's what we're ACTUALLY going to do. We can't afford another brawl in Platform City, especially in the city proper. So you're all going to go with Charger here," he indicated the floating Ghost, who nods a hello to everyone, "to Tetris Castle. He has a direct communication line to me, so if you get into trouble, he can reach me. I'm going after our transforming friend and getting her back with the group. All the same, I want you all to wait five minutes before leaving so that if he IS leaving, he isn't going to be able to launch an Ambush without me seeing it. So, I'll be back."

Following Shantae out of the window, he double jumps just before impact to avoid damage to his shields before sprinting out of sight towards the blue dot on his motion tracker. The nice thing about friendlies was they didn't need to be moving to show up on it. Still, finding her visually was a bit of a trick, but he managed to do it after about two minutes, which left only three before the group left the Inn, if they stuck to the plan. Coming up quietly behind her, as was a talent Hunters had, he tapped her shoulder. "This is a bad idea and you know it. Let's get back to the group and back to the Castle. Guile will kill us if there's another brawl in this city."

As you wish, Boss.

Mr. President looked over at Azura with a plain look. What a bitch… he thought. Whatever. It’s not like I’m not used to those types of women. Back on the ship, he sometimes felt as though he was surrounded by hot bitches. The girly-guy kid (he started talking)—a guy—introduced himself as Vent and that he was some sort of Model. His explanation made Mr. President raise a hand to grasp his chin as he frowned at him as though trying to decipher him. “Your explanation…I don’t know why. The double megamerging made me think of…” he lowered his hand from his chin and waved it off. “Shit, never mind. You had me thinking you were some weird Japanese fetish sex doll or something. So a ‘Megaman’ got it.” Whatever that was. He was sure he would find out soon.

The boss looked to the red robot next as she explained several similarities to his own situation. “Captain Piper…” he said her name as though getting a feel for it. “I would have never guessed you to be a femmebot until you said something.”

He looked at her weapons, and then the furnace in her chest (good thing she didn’t have breasts). He pointed at it. “I assume that works like a boiler or something. Try to keep that thing hot.”

Finally, was a man who seemed like someone who he could relate to. He looked like someone from the same planet as him. A soldier. When he introduced himself with a very Russian name, Boss smirked in amusement. The fact that he was Russian wasn’t what was amusing but how he was still up-tight even after crossing dimensions. XCOM? He had never heard of it. Everyone was from a different universe no matter how human they seemed.

Boss made a down motion with his hand. “Hey, chill. I may have formally been Commander in Chief but I’m not no more (not until we find a new planet to call Earth!) You’re a soldier-medic. Got it.”

He then started with Azura, pointing at her before motioning along: “Spear Babe, Megaman (more like Megaboy), Robogirl, and Russian dude. Got it. Great. With this team in this backwater medieval world, this mission should be cake.”

Hearing the snow crunching some ways behind him, Boss turned around to see a medieval-looking man in fur approach. He gave them all a look until he happened to gaze on one of them that looked like made him near shit his pants. Boss glanced over his shoulder, following the scout’s eyes to Captain Piper. A second after, the scout was running away exclaiming about the enemy. Boss blinked in confusion.

“Does he mean us?” he thought aloud in confusion. He then looked back at Captain Piper, and then at the scout who was running away. Then back again. “Hey, I don’t know what he saw, but whatever it is, don’t pay him any mind. You’re…” He looked her up and down and made a face. Nah; he wouldn’t tap it. “You’re…great…don’t worry about him.”

As Mr. President faced the path once more, his expression practically dropped at the barbarian soldiers charging toward them. “You gotta be fucking kidding me…” he grumbled. “Wasn’t this guy expecting us?”

Boss narrowed his eyes and brought his hands together giving them a few cracks. He then said over his shoulder to his team, “Let’s kick their asses. Maybe that’ll get it through their cavemen skulls not to fuck with The Sai—eeeh~……I mean…with uh…We needa’ group name. How about the uh…”

He turned around to look over his team again, “How about the Motley Crew?”

---

Cuphead seemed to acknowledge his strength. Why didn’t they wonder why the enemy was after him to begin with? It wasn’t because he was weak. Shantae transformed into a monkey and was already executing the proposed plan on her lonesome. That was until James decided to propose a new plan and quickly chased after her. Sparx frowned. Sending them to the castle when the bad guy was right there?

Sparx waited for James to leave before he turned to the rest of the group. “We shouldn’t just let him get away. What if he knows something we don’t?” The dragonfly flew over to the window to peek out of it.

The black cloaked man managed to make it safely to the first floor without drawing the attention of the heroes. Feeling home free, he no longer crept and headed for the door. Opening it, he stepped outside and glanced left and right before he…ran. The figure ran through the streets, and he ran inhumanly quick. The cloak divided a little about his legs, revealing more black material underneath. He then sprang through the air, landing on all fours onto the back of a car before leaping gracefully over to an overhang. From the overhang, he leapt onto the head of a street lamp and from the street lamp onto the roof of an apartment. The figure then returned to a bipedal sprint, leaping from rooftop to rooftop.

Sparx who was watching from the rooftop blinked. “That guy’s pretty fast…and…hm…his moves seem familiar. Oh!” The dragonfly whirled and warned the group, “He’s escaping you guys!”

Meanwhile, hovering a few thousand feet above Tetris Castle, was an odd ship.

The look given to Azura in response from the President did not please her, but neither did it phase her. A brusque attitude was, after all, the only form of rebellion one could have against someone in a place of authority. His eyes and face made it clear, furthermore, that after embarrassing both himself and then shamelessly demonstrating equal parts immaturity and unsuitability for leadership, he expected his new underlings to lap it up. Such damning conceit. Through eyes half-closed out of indifference, Azura turned her attention to her remaining allies in turn.

She regretted failing to understand much of what the strange young man, who gave his name as Vent, had to say. In a refreshing turn of self-awareness, however, he did say that he expected as much. Even with his strange physiology, Azura could figure out that he felt almost as annoyed by their supposed superior's antics as she did, but in contrast he behaved more chipper and obliging. Maybe that is the attitude to have, Azura considered. It's possible that the Boss is acting the way he is in order to get a rise out of us. If that's the case, I'm giving him exactly what he wants by reacting poorly. She resolved to pick up cues from the remaining members.

Out of the remaining two, the more sizable machine spoke up next. Though her materials and make were unknown to her, Azura recognized Piper as an inorganic construct, not too dissimilar from some of the golems that could be found in her own world. This one, however, proved herself possessed of intelligence practically indistinguishable from a human's, so the songstress resolved to treat her as such. Right after Piper, the unknown soldier introduced himself. He gave a salute, which Azura dismissed as a formality wasted on the Boss, before describing both himself and his world of origin. Though once again Azura found herself irked that some of his terminology escaped her, he gave out every impression of being a capable and competent soldier. For a moment she stared at his equipment, watching him handle its small parts, before coming to a conclusion. As appropriate as it might be for the Boss, her silence and lack of cooperation were rude -even tactically unsound- to these other comrades. Taking a breath of the chilly air, she prepared to speak.

Not unlike her lance, the words of the Boss cut over her attempt at introduction, and for a moment Azura appeared paralyzed by the name assigned to her by him. Spear...babe? A pet name suitable for a tavern wench. She pursed her lips. Since I didn't introduce myself, I suppose its to be expected. If...he is lascivious, I will have to speak to whoever delegates these assignments. A sigh escaped her. If we survive with him at the helm.

What followed was a strange series of events: a fellow Azura guessed was a local approached, his stance indicating no violent intent, before fleeing with a shriek at the sight of Piper. From beneath furrowed brows, her yellow eyes watched him sprint back toward the nearby encampment. How out of character for a warrior. Could these 'steel gods' be so intimidating? He must have mistaken Piper for one such enemy. Perhaps that gives us an idea as to what our enemy is like. Her reflection fell by the wayside as the familiar sound of feet on the move met her ears. Refocusing in the direction that the scout retreated in, she spotted a troop of fighters headed her way. It didn't take a genius to guess their intent.

The Boss suggested fighting them, but that struck her as a hot-blooded and asinine solution. These people were supposed to be, from what she understood, allies or at least contacts. Any sort of conflict between them would lead to nothing but problems: strained relations, casualties, foes taking them by surprise or making advances during the infighting. Azura sensed that her time had come; an opportunity lay to take out three birds with one stone.

Ignoring the Boss's quibbling about team names, she stepped forward in front of the rest of the group. The Stormcloaks were still far enough to give her a brief moment to do what she needed, and Azura did not intend to waste it. Holding her lance horizontally against her thighs, she bowed in the soldiers' direction, and called out. “I am Azura, from the kingdom of...” There came the briefest pause. “Hoshido.” She straightened up, and dropped the Blessed Lance in the snow. The Stormcloaks were getting closer, not yet convinced. ”We wish to parley with your leader. There is no need for violence, or fear. This is for you: a token of peace.”

This is the moment. She cleared her throat, and began to sing. Her soft voice rang with astonishing clarity through the frigid air, rolling across the snow like the first sunbeams of a brand new day. For a couple seconds she sang without words, but carefully-chosen lyrics began just after.

“In endless dreams, countless realms collide
Hope falls only to rise like the changing tide
But all dreams come to an end,
A light lost to time, just whispers on the wind.”

Beneath her heavy winter clothing, her pendant glimmered. Her song soothed the mind of all who heard it, calming the urge to fight and allowing stress and fatigue to slip away. It did not force compliance, like a siren's song, but rather invited serenity and appreciation. If it ensnared the eye and enchanted the mind, it was because her performance possessed true beauty and grace, not because of some sinister magic. When she finished, Azura could not help but to gasp at the sting of pain in her heart that followed. It clawed at her from deep within, a brief but acute attack on her soul. She knew its origin, but could never speak of it. Once the moment passed, she opened her eyes to stare out at the soldiers with a gently sorrowful face. Every warrior in their camp must have heard her song, but if it did not quell the fighting spirit of those just in front of her, she could not be assured of her own survival, much less the success of her mission. This was a test—to see if the outpouring of her heart held true in this world as much as it did her own.