The Annual Japanese Championship was a roaring tournament.

Unlike the tournament in Rio, the stadium was much less accommodating in size for nomads, as well as the spectators who lined the stands that were elevated above the mix of marble, safety carpets, and a slew of other materials. The crowds were in an uproar, with a mixture of cheering and booing with a match currently going underway; it was between a young man garbed in black with a rather humongous and menacing blade versus another dressed in light blue gear and a scarf who gave the impression of a super sentai hero.

Crowds of other people were gathered around the platform of differing shapes and sizes, watching the fight with awe, cheering alongside the crowd as the masked hero dive kicked at the man who stumbled a bit to deflect the assault. Despite this all, a few were rather unnerved by another presence that lined the stadium - MAVERICK.

There were agents seen patrolling about in their black gear, lined with all the kelvar they could possibly strap onto their body, or standing stationary, mostly stone-faced. The weapons they had were not uniform as them, consisting of shotguns, carbines, and even shock batons and turrets that either were attached to an extremity of theirs or followed close by them like a small dog.

Along with that, there was an opening above them all, the weather being rather crisp with a bright blue sky; only one or two clouds could be spotted, with a plane soaring over above.

That sound was quickly drowned out by the hysteria as the hero smashed his leg into his opponents gut, causing him to fly back. The hero quickly back flipped away, twirling in midair before sticking the landing and posing... before getting kicked in the face from the young man who was soaring straight at him. A large imprint was left in the floor behind the duo as they continued to clash as the young man gave a cocky wink and smirk before blocking the hero's ki infused strike.

As the fight continued onward, Aldous stood near the fight, taking time to jotted away at a notebook before looking up. He elicited no grunts when someone accidentally bumped him when fist bumping, instead opting to take note of the way the crowds reacted when a certain move was thrown out by each of the contenders. Jotting away at his notes, it looked as if the hero was going to win this first match...

"Popular choice, as well as sustaining little to no damage," he murmured to himself as the red orbs squinted at the fight as the young man with the large sword was sent back, followed by a pose which sent the crowd into a frenzy; figured that it peaked him in popularity, but left him open to a couple of attacks.

And the crowd was left in awe once the hero was sent flying upwards. Of course his red orbs followed too, dilating to take it all in... before he noticed something rather off. In the span of a few minutes the whether outside had taken a complete u-turn as the sky above was starting to gray. Along with that, the sound of a droplet ticked against his skull, as well as a page of the notebook.

How peculiar... he was certain the weather forecast today was supposed to be sunny with little to no clouds in sight. He tapped at his teeth for a moment before returning his attention back to the fight where he saw the boy with the sword taking a hold of the scarf the hero had on him and began yanking, as well as choking his opponent.

And with that, the fight came to an end as the young man quickly launched his sword at the opponent, slashing at their neck, causing them to fly out of the arena and into a crowd of nomads, who either managed to get out of the way... or were unfortunate to be crashed into by the fighter. Aldous was one of the few who managed to dodge the impending doom, clutching his crown as he ducked to the side and looked back at the injured fellows.

The safety here was impeccable as always...

"And with that, Ketsuiki astonishingly makes a comeback, taking his opponent out of the arena, as well as causing collateral damage to the other fighters," the announcer shouted with a hint of disappointment under his breath, which nevertheless managed to stir up the crowd. "Regardless, looks like that's it for the seventh round folks! Our next fight will begin very shortly, so stay tuned!" And with that said, the man tuned out, with the arena staff quickly setting to work, gathering and checking up on any injured nomads, as well as tending to the opponent the boy managed to knock out of the ring. Along with that, they also swiftly went to work, cleaning up the arena and any sort of... alterations made to it.

At least they were still efficient.

Tapping his chin with a pencil, Aldous turned to the person by him, lightly tapping them on the shoulder with his bony finger. "Quite the exhilarating fight, wouldn't you say," he clamored excitedly, semi-attached from this all as he questioned the other nomad beside him, sizing them up as well with his red orbs.

And just as he asked, the sky continued to darken even further as droplets of rain began to pick up an escalate as the wind started howling. There was no traces of the sunny day left as many nomads and civilians began bringing out their umbrellas, with some of the former using special techniques to keep themselves dry.

However, the sudden appearance of rain had resulted in some chatter amongst the MAVERICK agents, who were either dispersing to investigate or seemed tenser than usual.

Aldous briefly navigated his orbs to the shifting crowds, orbs squinting until they were a fine thin line before returning his attention back to the nomad he was trying to interact with. Even though his interest was primarily focused on the nomad, there was something nagging at him.

Why was there rain?

---

---

Verga didn't mind the easy money. That was to be expected at least as each round followed another, either a slog or something that ended really swiftly. Really, no one really distinct really made their debut yet, and that was disappointing since her sixth sense read a couple of rather strong signatures here and there, but it was difficult to tell since it had been a while... would of made her a little less disappointed if she could discover who they were.

Who knows, maybe they would be able to put up a decent fight.

She didn't cheer along with the crowd, sitting all the way back as far away as she could from the arena. The closest she could get to eliciting any reaction was when she cracked open a can of lemonade and began sipping at it. There were some entertaining moments, such as watching the one man perform all that ridiculous twirling backflip, only to be kicked in the face. Despite this all, she was emotionless; stony-face would be a good way to describe it as she continued downing the drink.

Even as she continued sipping, she peered upwards, still expressionless as the sky grayed above with a light drizzle. Choosing to focus on something more tantalizing, she continued staring upwards, even tilting her head a bit as if it would help her get a better idea of what was going on. As she continued staring, her vision was eventually obscured by a light blue blur in midair.

The fight continued, but she concentrated more on the graying above, becoming darker and darker. It was really without fanfare as blacker clouds obscured that once sunny sky. Following that came more droplets of rain as she sipped more and more. It was difficult to tell if there was anything wrong, aside from the way those faceless mavericks were acting, and trying to tell anything else was more of a chore.

Of course, the only thing that really brought her back to the fight and out of the clouds was the fact that there were nomads being quickly knocked over, no different than dominoes. This warranted her attention, at least for a few seconds before finishing up the rest of her can, and effortlessly crushing and tossing it into the nearest trashcan.

But even as "interesting" as that was, something was stirring in the air hanging above them. It was like the sensationless half second after stubbing your toe, followed by a few seconds of silence and waiting before the pain began to surge into your entire body.

---

---

Gotcha now you flighty sonofobitch!

Smiling wickedly with a fire in his eyes, the boy in black took his sweet time pulling the man in blue back... at least for a couple of seconds. He did want to drown out any sort of hope that his opponent might win, not that it was obvious anyways. He knew from the start that he had this in the bag after all. After choking the guy in blue out for like thirty seconds or so, he firmly grasped the scarf and yanked it back with all his might.

The scarf tore just a bit as he let go, swiftly grasping his sword, holding it like a baseball bat. The boy in black kept his eyes trained firmly on the neck of his of his opponent, squinting to get a better view of it. He grit his teeth for a moment before letting go.

Slamming his sword into their neck, Katsuo made sure to put all his strength into this, gripping the sword as he applied as much force as he could. The man in blue on the receiving end wasn't fortunate at all as the blow launched him back into the crowds of nomads. Of course, some managed to jump out of the way, but others took the full brunt of it all.

Standing there, he took in his handiwork, panting and sweating a bit, his smile still as wild and the flame in his eyes being unextinguished. Sure, he had a bruise here and there that he would wince at from time to time, and his gut hurt... just a bit, but this nomad stuff was pretty easy!

Blinking for a moment, his breaths became longer, more focused as he carefully grasped his sword and pulled it close to his body and began closing his eyes. In and out, this would all pass. Basking in his victory was a nice thought, but not if he had to deal with the urges of painting the blue blur red. "Breathe in and breathe out... remember Katsuo, remember..."

This remembrance drowned out any other sounds, even the announcement of his own victory. It took at least a minute before his eyes fluttered open once more. Blinking for a moment, his vision was a bit blurry, but not as red as before. His sword was slowly tipping over, threatening to take it's owner down with it as he scrambled a bit to keep balance, via taking a few stumbling steps forward.

Once he maintained himself, he raised his sword into the air, staring at the blade as he twirling it around with a large cocky grin plastered on his face. He then quickly sheathed it on his back, but not before snapping his fingers and winking to some of his audience, mostly the female nomads. Katsuo then nonchalantly walked off the stage, letting go of his blade so that it would rest in its holster.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looked around with a much more relaxed smile, but nevertheless had glimpses of overconfidence in them. Surely someone would want to talk to him about how well he performed in his fight... right? Retrieving a hand from his pocket, he waved off some of the workers who wished to treat him for any injuries, he could handle em' just fine himself.

Eventually he merged in with the crowds of nomads, rapping and tapping his sides, looking around at other people, sometimes thinking he caught their gaze, only for them to look the other way before he could even brandish a large, proud smile. Seriously, like ugh...

Looking around, he shifted through the crowds a bit, sifting through each individual with a watching eye, ignoring the rain crashing down around them... not that it wasn't refreshing in the slightest.

Eventually he found someone who might want to hive him the time he deserved. Sliding past another nomad, he nudged at the other person with his shoulder. Once he was certain he got their attention, he snapped a finger gun right out of his pocket, which was followed up by a humongous cocksure smile. "Sooooo, what didja think of my fight? Pretty damn, good right?"

---

---

The harbor city Otaru was rather benign at the moment, if you completely disregarded the MAVERICK agents stationed out around the southeastern portion of the city. There were less people walking and driving amongst the streets though as of late; possibly due to the fear looming around them, as well as one or two robots littering the streets. The sleek white and yellow workings that were once apparent on them were scratched out to a certain degree as they remained slumped down.

Their "eyes" that once glowed with blue, electronic life had gone silent. They were littered with dents and a few bullet holes here and there, with signs of them being there being all too apparent. Some buildings were looking to be repaired as the sides were covered up with wooden boards. Brick and shattered pieces of stone that would of looked to belong to certain builds crumbled down on the side walk.

Anyone looking to cannibalize the robots at this point would probably realize that more of the uncommon parts had been... removed. Confiscated by MAVERICK would of been a better word.

These were the "hot-spots" of MAVERICK patrols; it wouldn't be too out of place to see one of them walking down the streets, armed to the teeth with their array of weapons and cybernetic technology. They seemed to always be on guard, blinking and eyeing other civilians or a vehicle for a brief second before returning to observing the surroundings for any sign of trouble.

However, these spots usually would have little to no civilians walking amongst them. Homes were usually barren as they clustered about and the rivers that were once used for tourist entertainment was now one of the few temporary ways to transfer MAVERICK agents across the city. Most people didn't feel like going out of their way to get near those wretched automatons, whether it was to respect the duty of the soldiers or out of fear of what might happen.

You could easily spot a child or a few getting near the robots, touching them, and scurrying away.

Their current provisional base of operations there was the Asarigawa Hot Springs. While the days were slow for obvious reasons, the customers there were now made up of MAVERICK agents whenever they got the time off and a few other nomads who had managed to make it there.

"What is the status report on Squad Three," a stern voice spoke in the background as a few other agents relaxed... well, "relaxed" in their own way. Some were busy taking a part their guns, whistling to themselves as they went about cleaning their weapons. One person was busy tinkering away at their robot, raising an eyebrow before shrugging an attaching something onto it. The tv that was in the area was constantly changing channels to different stations, before eventually stopping at the Annual Japanese Tournament.

Some watched with an unerring eye, whilst others squinted, nervously tapping at something.

One agent opted to watch for a few minutes before returning back to his own device. Hitting the playback button, the item silently whizzed to life, with a rather colorful commercial being played. Squinting at it, he rapped his fingers on the table, studying it as if it held some enigmatic secret.



The man watching the ad on his device yelped as he was rudely interrupted, a finger interjecting in between him and the device, causing it to whir off. Seriously, who just does something like that other than... oh...

"Oy', it's time t'make our rounds boyo, so don't y'even think 'bout skipin'm," a rather large mountain of a woman spoke in a light voice. Her face was obscured my a mask, but it had certain customized tribal designs to it with the lens being a light blue color. She quickly jabbed her thumb behind her, listlessly staring at the man.

The man sighed as he looked up at the senior officer and nodded. Like hell he was going to use this as an excuse to watch some ad over and over. Snatching up his device, he promptly pocketed it before grabbing his FAMAS, his eyes glazed over as he began loading the gun up with ki-laced bullets - a specialty of their organization.

As he trudged on out with the other soldiers, he and his squad acknowledged the others they were switching with a salute before heading off outside. "Two weeks ago, huh?"

Even though the field agents handled the situation well, there was still something bothering him about what occurred in Rio—why did those robots strike? The lack of any answers just left him with more questions that piled up each day, leaving him more frustrated than anything...

... but as paramount as these questions were, they were dismissed by the soldier once the squad was greeted by a bit of drizzle, light raindrops, and a semi-darkened sky.

Weird... Japan's forecast didn't say that there was a risk of rain today... but then again, what did he even know about meteorology? Marching in unison, the unit walked passed other agents outside. It looked like a hostile takeover with sturdy black trucks and small movable outposts being stationed out there, possibly filled with ammunition and other items.

Eventually, they began walking onto the road, not letting the slowly darkening atmosphere get to them as the rain slowly began to pick up. They were unwavering as they stared down the barren street, heading towards the outskirts of town.

---

---

Before Jonas even knew it, the two weeks since the tournament in Rio completely flew by with the snap of a finger as he kept his eyes on the road in this jeep. For the most part, there wasn't any problems between the jobs and hunting down those Massacre de Soldiers or whatever... most wanted for taking down an iconic Nomad monument, eh? And they even went as far as to pin the blame over on the small time gang, as well as another so called collaborator.

Hmph, something didn't really resonate with him there as he kept his eyes on the road with the thought of the attack being in unison was set in the back of his mind, furrowing his brows with a frown as he pushed the thoughts back.

Regardless, the doctor remained relaxed as his gaze would sometimes drift between each of his companions, all in their usual gear; it wasn't that cold, though he did feel a bit of a chill when he rolled down the window to take a look over Otsana and her motorcycle. One of the first few questions that ran through his mind was if she was cold due to her lack of clothing and how that small sidecar held up with all the guns she would of kept in there.

"So, robots, huh? Wonder how this place is holding up," he pondered, tilting his head to the side as he made another turn, rolling the window right back up. Making sure there were no vehicles on the road at the time, he peered to the back, expecting to see the wolfgirls weapons.

Well... he was right, for the most part, save that his eyes widened as he blinked before furrowing his brows and shaking his head. Good grief Brown... Jonas grit his teeth as he pursed his lips, averting his gaze from the litter that was scattered amongst the gun cases.

Moreover, how many of those sweet breads has she gone through already? The back was a mess! Shifting his head back to the road, he passed on by another vehicle before giving Brown his attention.

His face was pointed towards the road, but his eyes were focused on her... and he was fairly certain that... girl had already gone through over half of the bread. Jesus Brown, just... "Seriously Brown," he muttered to himself, removing his eyes from the younger girl. As they continued down the road, he noticed they were coming up on a few buildings, assumed to be a city. Taking a look at the GPS, a small smirk formed on his face.

They finally made it to Otaru.

---

Driving by each building, the group moved a lot slower, navigating through the mostly abandoned streets; Jonas deferred between Brown and his own interpretations of the signs in this city, passing by some people who shied away from the jeep.

No skin off his nose before he made another turn, and saw a singular robot that was resting on the corpses of now defunct buildings. The thing was about twenty feet, dwarfing the people in black who gathered around it, going between walking around the area to analyzing it.

"MAVERICK's," a singular word crossed his mind. That meant they were getting close at least. Humming one of Beethoven's compositions to himself for a few minutes. here on, he deferred to Otsana's lead, letting her guide the way.

As a few minutes went on by, Jonas ended his little symphony, sighing as he began rolling down the jeep window once more. Peering over at Otsana, he loudly clicked his tongue before saying "hey Otsy" to garner her attention.

"So we're lookin' for the... Asarigawa Hot Springs right," he questioned, raising an eyebrow, slightly smirking for the most part at the woman. "Hopefully you didn't just take this mission just so you could get a free 'bath' as well," he chuckled, rapping his fingers on wheel, but not before recoiling just a tad when he felt something wet brush by his face.

Peering up briefly, Jonas retreated back into the jeep, rolling up the window slightly a bit a the first bits of rain began to come down on them all. Swiftly flipping the switch, the doctor watched as the windshield wipers waved to life, brushing aside any sort of rain that pervaded their world.

"So, how long until we get there Otsana," he questioned with a businesslike tone in his voice, not even taking his focus off the road.

---

---

Despite the loud cheering noises that flooded the stadium, Callistrophus sits motionlessly on a small bench, with his scaly feet crossed, his eyes closed, tail wrapping around his waist, and his hands placed gently upon his lap. His meditation rituals place him in a trance-like state, mitigating the sounds around him as he concentrates on the elemental ki of his surroundings. He can feel the intense energy bursting from the opposing fighters, as well as the static energy emitting from the other nearby nomads. He's able to feel the energies of nearly every individual within the stadium grounds, making him a good detector if an unwanted guest decided to ruin the Championship. The threat of an invading individual is seemingly low and Callus had not sensed any disturbances since the start of the tournament. Even if there may have been a sudden disturbance of unrecognized violence, MAVERICK units were deployed all around the stadium as the first line of defense against any ill-fated trespassers.

Yet as Callus basks in the warm rays of the sun, he suddenly feels a disturbance in the air. His calm expression dampened slightly, disappointingly perhaps, as he senses a cold chill coming in. Further more, the warm colors in his vision began to darken, as he recognizes the signs of an approaching storm.

The Draconian had sensed it merely ten minutes before it finally reached the stadium. He feels a light water droplet splash against his snout, followed by another on his horn, his eyelid, his beard until a light drizzle begins to tinkle down on him. His morning meditation didn't sense any form of precipitation raining down today. Even the weather forecasts on the local news also didn't say to expect any rainfall.

This is odd... perhaps a little too odd.

His eyelids slowly open, revealing a pair yellow eyes with slitted pupils, as Callus takes a look at the people around him. They've either begun to open their umbrellas or head for shelter, with some of the nomads deploying other uses to keep dry. The calm relaxed aura around him has tensed considerably, especially coming from the Maverick units both within and outside the stadium walls. This sudden, unexpected, change didn't feel natural at all. He attempts to briefly communicate with the ki around him, hoping to find a lead towards this rapid commotion. Yet even after a minute of searching, all he felt was the rain slowly intensifying on his scales.

"Hmm..." Callus thinks aloud nonchalantly as he rises from his meditation pose, planting both of his legs on the solid ground as he tightly grips Kurogica's handle. He heads towards the roofed portion of the platform, still glancing out at the environment around him. The dark skies ominously hovered over the stadium, almost as if its saying something. Already the Draconian senses a rush of disturbance coming from outside, along with the faint sounds of automobiles violently stopping outside. Voices can be heard as well, commanding orders and confused gasps made up for most of the noise. This only brings the question...

Could something amiss be slowly rearing its ugly head from the horizon?

---

---

Time flew fast over the last few months that Aleksandr traveled back to this age. Once a resistance fighter for the UACU fighting against the disgustingly corrupt Corporate Empire, the jet-black armored Russian now finds his home in the MAVERICK faction as one of its elite commandos. He won't call this place peaceful so-to-say, but it's definitely an improvement compared to his age. Those vicious demons he fought in his future were utterly relentless and they nearly destroyed everything he knew and loved. The UACU was destroyed, his comrades in Phoenix Squad were all dead, and now he's forced to rewrite time in this period. It's an incredibly daunting task and without any support from his allies, he's all on his lonesome. All he knows is that he must find THAT corporation and to halt its schemes of world-domination.

But even then, that's easier said than done.

He's not as invulnerable as he initially was. Aleks' armor, once designed to be completely-resistant to physical projectiles and weaker laser-fire, has weakened to a degree where it can be damaged significantly easier. It even has the marks to prove it, with a laser burn on his right breastplate, a slash mark by the placard, and several dents on his leg pieces. It wasn't much for his first few months but he knows that it'll most certainly get more battle-damaged the longer he uses it. The materials aren't cheap - let alone accessible - in this age to repair the damage. His armor was a special top-secret alloy that's hard enough to deflect bullets and lasers, and it took a rather long process to make. Unless he finds a reasonable substitute here, he'll be stuck with these marks.

And the commando mustn't forget the mission at hand. He'll need to somehow get access into that corporation and destroy anything that involves with the creation of the Saurostrains. He has no idea what this thing to eliminate is, but whatever it is, it's the key in potentially saving his world. Of course, nobody knows if this will succeed, but it's his only hope. For now however, he'll have to keep his profile low and act accordingly.

As the rain began to fall on his armor in the city of Otaru, Aleks sees several other agents heading towards the black trucks and mobile outposts situated down the street. He doesn't know much on what's going on here, even before being deployed during the debriefing, but worries have caused MAVERICK to send agents to this sector to deal with a potential threat. The threat in question is unknown to him at this point, but Aleks has a feeling he may encounter it soon. But with nothing else to do now, all he can do is guard the perimeter of the outpost and watch for any hostiles that may be lurking in the shadows...

He also happens to notice a jeep speeding towards him from his location.

_{Otaru, Japan}

---

---

Seshat huffed. It had been two weeks, since she had made her trip to Iran. But the emotions she felt there, emotions that she had suppressed thousands of years prior, still occasionally rang fresh in her mind. She did not find whatever vessel they made for her brother there, and the idea that he may be alive in whatever twisted fashion the humans had remade him in was something that she did not quite know how to deal with.

It was something that distracted her, as she flew along.

She did not lose sight of why she was there, of course. She was eager to put an end to these troublesome robots, reward or no reward, but these MAVERICKs seemed to have useful information about them. So she would get this information, one way or another. She erred away from using force in such situations, but she had no problems resorting to it if she felt it necessary. Though they could end up causing trouble for her...

It occurred to Seshat that she should perhaps land. There were more soldiers about now, and given that she was wearing the armor she made from the corpses of these robots, it was probably not the best idea to be flying along at high speeds, boosters flaring behind her with a trail of brilliant flame. She disengaged them, and fell to the earth and skidded against it for a second before she came to a stop. The golem took off her helmet, letting her hair fall down and rest against her back as her headband materialized around her forehead.

She began to walk down the side of the road she was previously flying above, somewhat uneasily at first, until she spotted another nomad on the same path. Somewhat old, dark armor, vaguely military. Trustworthy, at least for a simple question. Seshat’s frown faded somewhat as she offered him a curt wave, her rifle hanging at her side.

“Excuse me,” Seshat inquired. “This is the way to Asarigawa Hot Springs, yes? It’s been a while since I was last in the country.” Of course, this human looked rather out of place in Japan himself.

---

Ten Minutes Ago...

Far from the electric excitement of the Nomad Tournament, well beyond the range of MAVERICK's frequent patrols, two figures traversed the side of the snow-topped mountain, their cloaks whipped into a violent frenzy by the high winds. The figure in front drew itself to its full height, dwarfing its hunched over companion, as it held out its hand to survey the side of the mountain.

"There!" it spoke suddenly, its deep voice cleaving through the cold air as it stormed forward, the companion stumbling behind it. Coming to a stop over the snow-covered stone, the massive figure held out its hand again, filling it with magical flames before hurling it to the earth. The snow dissipated like dust, revealing not the ground but a stone doorway, plain and unadorned save the letters scrawled upon the center.

鬼に金棒

"My lord..." the second figure stammered out, her voice trembling with reverence.

"Silence," the first figure demanded. "Hold out your arm." Obediently, the servant did as she was commanded, turning her hooded face away. There was a slash and a whimper of pain, and the servant turned back, cradling her wounded arm as the master flecked a sword across the face of the stone door, sprinkling it with blood. A loud crack echoed through the wind as the magical seal shattered, followed by crunching stone as the master kicked through the door, crumbling it to pieces as he threw the blade aside.

"Undisturbed, after all this time," the master remarked. "They never even scratched the surface. Come."

The servant obeyed as the pair of them entered the stone doorway, descending the crudely carved stone stairway. Blue flames sprung to life on either side as they descended, the crackling warmth drowning out the distant winds. After what felt like hours, the pair reached an ancient stone archway, the room beyond it illuminated by blue light. As the master crossed the threshold, the blue flames burned brighter, revealing the shadows of monstrous figures carved from stone, arranged in a circle around the inner chamber. The servant looked upon them in awe, her eyes moving from their snarling faces to the clubs held aloft, ready to strike.

"The emperor of Qing had humans made of stone, to guard his tomb," the master remarked derisively, approaching the center of the figures at a brisk pace. "How fitting then, that these stone warriors will serve a better purpose."

"What purpose is that, my lord?" the servant asked as the Master stepped onto the dais in the center of the room.

"Retribution." Lowering his head in concentration, the master once more held out his arms, reciting an incantation in a long dead language. The ground shuddered more and more violently as he proclaimed the ancient spell, and as he barked out the last words, the center of the stone dias opened wide, a white light shining from beneath. The servant's breathing shuddered in excited reverence as what looked like a gauntlet emerged from the ground, rising like smoke in the bright light. Before the servant could express her admiration, the master took the gauntlet, pulling it onto his left hand. As soon as the gauntlet was pulled tight, white flames erupted from the hand, spreading through the Master's body and through the ground. The servant leapt back as the flames traversed the room, weaving between the statues before traveling up and around the stone bodies as the intense power washed throughout the room like a windstorm.

"This is just the beginning," the Master cried, clenching his fist around the burning gauntlet as the sound of shifting stone filled the chamber. "Soon, all of humanity will know my suffering!"

"My l-lord!" the servant cried out, bowing to him on her hands and knees. "Wh-where will your glorious conquest begin?"

---

MAVERICK's Drone Research Division was in a tight spot, though in fairness that was largely because of bad timing. After all, if there's anything that can make your presentation of a brand new combat robot look bad, it's presenting it days before a massive attack on Rio by a robot army. The division had avoided being scrapped entirely, but MAVERICK had still effectively benched the division to avoid an ugly PR incident, moving it from first response status to a support capacity for the ongoing reconnaissance mission in Japan. It was all for the better though, as the members of the DRU felt it was wise to keep their heads down and stay out of trouble for the time being.

Well, most of the DRU at least...

"¡NO MANCHES! THROW HIS ASS OUT OF THE RING!!!

Camila del Bosque erupted in screaming cheers with the rest of the crowd she was sitting with as Ketsuiki threw his oponnent's ass out of the ring, as well as the rest of them. With her MAVERICK uniform jacket tied around her waist in favor of her ratty tank-top shirt, she easily blended into the crowd the rowdy onlookers around her in spite of her uniform trousers and boots. Sharing enthusiastic high-fives with everyone around her, she dropped back into her seat and noticed buzzing from the earpiece she was supposed to be wearing. Picking it up from over her shoulder, she shoved it back into position.

"Del Busk?" Captain Trent sounded off in his posh English accent. "Del Busk come in!"

"Right here, el cabrón," she responded, rolling her eyes at the impressively bad pronunciation of her name.

"Del Busk, what the hell are you doing?!?"

"Observing the combat capabilities of potential hostiles," Camila said officially, taking a loud swig of her drink. "You should have seen how far this potential hostile threw that probable threat out of the area."

"Is this some sort of joke, Commander?"

"No, this is Patrick."

"You're supposed to be with your unit!" Captain Trent barked irritably.

"Chale, Captain. We're not in a combat position, remember? Besides, if anything happens THUNDERBIRD can fight without me until I get there. It's just outside the arena, for fuck's sake."

"None of your laughs, commander! Get back to your unit or I'll have you thrown in the bloody stocks!" There was an audible click as the commander closed his end of the communication.

"If I wanted a laugh I'd look down your trousers, pendejo," Camile grumbled to herself as she took the earpiece out again and leaned back in her chair. Taking another swig of her drink, she suddenly felt raindrops on her exposed arm. Looking angrily up at the sky, she undid the knot holding the sleeves of her jacket together, hoping to throw it over her head to keep the rain off.

" 'It's not going to rain, don't bother with the umbrella Cammy', " she recited in a derisive tone. "Barry you are such an idiot..."

Combatant sports had always been something significant to not only humans quite a few of the Mythics as well. It had always baffled the more peaceful-minded. Mori, up to a point, had always failed to understand why beings enjoyed hurting one another but this was to be expected from a passive Mythic such as a fay. Yet historically, mankind and Mythics both performed grueling combat trails against each of other for the sake of sport and entertainment.

While fights to the death have faded to obscurity, bouts such as this tournament were still prevalent everywhere in almost any form imaginable and the people loved them. The risk of injury or chance of injuring is a rush in some twisted appreciation, but let's face it, Mori had finally come to understand and even enjoy the process. Fighting provided relief, decompression to the troubled soul. All of this... "spectacle" was nothing more than troubled souls beating the troubles out of their lives while those that watched got to enjoy the mind-numbing distraction to tear them away from their lives. Sure, anyone can say "I want to make money!" or "I want to challenge myself!", but deep down these were all just excuses to their true selves. All beings were sick with a twisted side to themselves that was just waiting to come out, all they needed was a trigger. Most beings would never see that switch thrown but there was something present no matter what.

It was easy to judge, sure, but Mori was not pretending that she was some divine judge above all this. She was sick as well. Her trigger, a few years in the past, had shaped up her abandonment of her former self in exchange for this... enjoying and eventually participating in the spectacle of brutal sport alongside all the other degenerates.

There was also another reason to be here. The trail had gone cold about who had butchered Mori's people but with recent events like last year's tournament, there was the potential to find something or even better, someone to be the next step in her quest of revenge. Her detective work thus far was just keeping an open eye out for anything but eventually she figured she'd have to interact. At the moment, her lookout perch had her feet dangling off the ledge of some roofed-in section of the arena, above the rabble of spectators as Mori had always preferred to be left alone. It also afforded her a nice seat for the fights and even though MAVERICK could have enforced her removal, they didn't bother.

Few fights among the nomads had taken place before the motive of Mori's vigil was awarded with something. With her left antennae twitching, her extrasensory appendages had detected an atmospheric change taking place at some point during the last fight and rather than watch the exciting conclusion, she glanced with a calm curiosity, up to the sky watching it brew slowly into something more malicious than a clear day. Now Mori didn't pay attention to televised forecasts but being originally a Mythic of Life and Nature, she had a sense for things such as weather and this was not a natural occurrence.

Idling as the rain fell, Mori continued her studying gaze up, actually enjoying the feeling of rainwater mat down her air and slick off her skin. Nature, again, was something she had been closely associated with at one point and change as much as she did, it was still a part of her.

Minutes passed of her expectant gaze being pointed at the clouds, wanting something to occur that confirmed her suspicion but nothing came from nature. Instead, the movement all around her had symptoms of tension. Her extrasensory could almost feel the effects of things going around her and turning her gaze to the MAVERICK agents at around her level, their increased activity had provided all the confirmation Mori needed. Something was going to happen but what?

Mori's gaze further wandered down the stadium of barely controlled crowds trying to scurry off for cover. Most of these mundane people had no special talents or senses but even a few of them had some sense of something odd. Mori could see it in a few of their faces. Among the crowds, however, a stone-faced figure had seemingly become an unintentional beacon of relief to many of the humans in proximity. Mythics, despite being rare among society, always stuck out in a crowd after all. Although the large scaly mass dressed in traditional looking was clearly visible, Mori had limited knowledge of what he was. A dragon taking a human-ish form or maybe the product of some inter-species breeding? It was difficult to tell but if there was ever a case of Mori feeling that sense of unspoken camaderie, it was with her own kind. Mr. Dragon, here, was not a Faye but he was certainly a Mythic and by that classification, he made it in with Mori's condition.

Pushing herself lightly from the ledge, she fell a few meters before her wings began to rapidly beat causing a low drumming sound from the vibrations as she slowed her descent to the platform. Landing gently in proximity of Mr. Dragon, Mori took a slow studying glance from his toes to head before settling upon meeting his gaze. Being nearly a whole two feet shorter than him, Mori had to crane her neck upwards as she was dwarfed in comparison. "Hi Mr. Dragon." Mori spoke, her voice being distorted and lowered to produce a darker monotone in addition to her true expression being disguised behind a mask altered Mori's presentation to more sinister despite the cutesy way she addressed him. She paused and took a glance around before turning her gaze back to him. "Afraid of a little water getting your robes all wet? Or maybe, I suspect you already guessed it but seems like this tournament will end shorter than anticipated. That's too bad, huh."

---

---

Once ducking his head underneath the canopy roof, Callus senses a low drumming sound behind him. It sounds like a winged individual, a insectoid perhaps, and a rather large one at that. While he faced away from the figure, he could sense a significant spike in ki level, which definitely signifies a nomad landing behind him. Yet he doesn't bother to turn towards it, as it didn't feel like a threat. After all, it can simply be a nomad using its flight capabilities to descend to this level, rather than using the stairs or elevator. Only after he hears the nomand's deep, distorted, feminine voice greeting him does he slowly turn around to see who she is.

The Draconian looks down to see a short, white-haired woman, who appears to be smaller than the average human being. He couldn't ignore the fact that she indeed had a pair of insect wings, along with two short antennae spurting from her head, a mask that covers her mouth and mechanical cybernetics on her right arm and by the base of the wing membranes. She too had yellow eyes, just like his own, but her pupils were more rounded than silted. Her skin looked abnormally pale, as seen with frightened or sickly people, and her clothing attire is simple yet tattered. Whoever this fairy is, she has definitely been through quite a lot. Callus looks down with a neutral look and waves nonchalantly.

"How do you do, Miss Fairy?" Callus replies back with an elderly yet firm reply, emphasizing his Chinese-esque accent.

The fairy proceeds to talk about the weather, about how the tournament may end shortly than anticipated, and how she wonders if the Draconian is walking indoors because he's afraid of drenching his attire. He bypasses the clothing remark and heads straight to the next point.

"Perhaps." he remarks quietly as he slowly continues heading to the door, "It appears Mother Nature will be cancelling today's events for the time being."

But as he reaches the arch leading indoors, Callus stops with a sigh as he looks back at the sky, studying it with curious intent. In his village back in China, his people believed that their long gone dragon ancestors acted as god-kings and goddess-queens over the elements. One in particular, known in his tongue as "Shuǐshén wáng" (or simply as "The Water God King") controlled the flow of water in rivers, lakes, and oceans, as well as determined when the rains will fall. Every April, the Draconians held a traditional ceremony in order to please the God-King. Along with performing complex dances, the sages in the village would meditate near or within a large body of water for hours before placing a large portion of their water magic into an alter, where it's ki would dissolve into the air and rise into the Heavens. It's been said that the more water-ki that's launched, the more likely will the rainy season last longer. But if no one sends water to the God-King, or if very little has been sent, or if the God-King happens to be in ill-spirits (which is often rare), droughts will occur in the region and no rain will fall for a year or more. That's why this tradition has been so important.

This tradition has been practiced in Callus' village for thousands of years and has 'claimed' to be working reliably. Even after leaving the village, does the Draconian wizard still partake in this event. In times like this, he can predict when rainfall can occur, usually within hours or even days, prior to the first drop. His predictions have been said to be more accurate than the local weather reports.

But rarely does he start feeling it within mere minutes prior, let alone not feeling it at all. Even the tone of the storm felt rather ominous. It's quite strange.

"And yet this sudden downpour has come-in unannounced." Callus continues as he looks back at the fairy, "I can often forecast a storm much earlier but only several minutes ago did I feel a sudden shift in the air... I feel like something amiss is brewing nearby."

The Draconian then proceeds to enter the doorway, using his sword as a walking cane.

"I must seek answers."

---

---

Aleks looks to his right, seeing a armored female approach him with a wave, as he replies with a simple raise of his hand. The dark-skinned woman, dawned in a suit of bright white armor and blue highlights, simply asks the location of the Asarigawa Hot Springs. Shortly before the Russian commando can reply to her question, his right eye beginning to glow a faint hue of blue as the Sight Of God quickly inspects the person's ki level. He simply wants a quick "background check" before continuing with the conversation. Much to his immediate surprise, the user was incredibly bright, signifying her ki-levels to be within the mere hundreds to thousands range. She must essentially be some sort of goddess or at least a demi-goddess of some kind. Yet what is she doing here wearing this armor?

Alas, Aleks' curiosity has to wait. He didn't quite know where the Asarigawa Hot Springs are either, as he was deployed here shortly prior to the Tournament that was taking place several blocks to the north, but his suit can help him solve this predicament.

"Let's check." he answers in a thick and gruff Russian accent, as he raises his right arm to his chest and presses on several buttons.

His arm revealed a hologram of the entire world, thanks to having permission from MAVERICK to access their personal GPS satellite, and initially reveals the two's current location. They were by the Asari Onsen Dori road, across from a recycling plant and an abandoned car dealer stop. The woman came from the north and pointed to the south, which should suggest its down the road. A soft beep can be heard as Aleks talks into it.

"Asarigawa Hot Springs." is all he said and within a short few seconds the map expands as it charts out the building's location.

It appears the woman is heading the right way.

"Here." the commando states bluntly as he points to it, "Just a few kilometers down south. If you see Shadow Classe Lodge, it's next door."

He briefly as he glances again at the dark-skinned figure, still wondering what a being like her is doing here. He couldn't help but to ask.

"Going for R&R, yes?" he asks her cautiously.

His English may need some work, such as adding some conjunctions to his sentences, but he can definitely be understood... at least to a heavy degree perhaps.

Al

Meanwhile in Japan, Tokyo Prefecture at 02:30 PM or so...

No matter where you go, there you are.

There Al stood, hands in his pockets looking over the field of heads out to the busy intersection. Steel structures towered overhead, vehicles lined up nose to tail down the paved streets. There were boards of all kinds and signs too, all written in a dialect foreign to him. More often than not their meanings were not lost on him however. Buy this, buy that! Come spend your money here! The words changed but the meaning remained.

Being in Japan Al stood over a foot taller than everyone for the most part. Standing out was something he was used to by this point. It's been a while since that fateful day he was attacked. It was as if in the eyes of the public he had suddenly transformed, like a veritable werewolf. They didn't fear him though. It wasn't like that. It was just... Different. Nomads were people who were apart from everyone else, different, So when Al became one suddenly the sheer stigma of the title clung to him.

Funny. He didn't feel different at all. He was still his dreary, listless self, still passing through life as though he hadn't really lived the things he did. No matter how people saw him he was still him.

_
At this point he had long relinquished any meaningful attempt to grasp the ways of people around him. Traveling from country to country just to fight for some more money so he could afford to travel to another country, another fight. It was wearisome, something he did not care strongly for. Fighting was but a means to an end, that end being to find something, anything that could lead him back to those guys that attacked him in the first place. He had little stakes in the actual victories or losses he sustained along the way.

The lights turned red, bringing one cycle of traffic to a close to open way for another one. The walk signal came alight as well and the crowd he was standing in started walking their way across. Al crossed as well as his destination was just across the road. The Annual Japanese Championship, something that was the source of some stir as it had come in the relative wake of the events in Rio. Hosting another fighting tournament of a similar breed while the last big disaster was still on people's lips was a gutsy choice. Either that or there was more to this tournament than just entertainment for an audience. If there was something more to this he figured it was best if he showed. He'd of been kicking himself if he chose to sit this one out right as something of a lead reared it's ugly head out there.

Just as he was crossing he felt drops upon the back of his head, something light, less than a drizzle even. He looked up to make sure it wasn't something foul. Nothing, just a clear sky which seemed to start growing a little greyer as clouds started to gather. It was a little strange but nothing that bothered him too strongly. He just kept on forward, ignoring the slight bit of moisture which reached him.

_
At last he finally made his way to the place in question. He had gotten lost a couple times just on the way from his hotel room to here. Not speaking the local language he mostly got by on land marks and a bit of dumb luck. The lobby looked very similar to any othe bustling local center, just thousands upon thousands of Japanese people walking to and fro. What seperated it from other places was the presence of unique characters, folks that were like him in that they didn't fit in with the crowd. They were all sorts, each sporting the gait of a fighter in their own sense.

Looks like this is the place He looked at the pamphlet in his hand. It presented a general blurb about the tournament as well as where to find it, luckily in a language he could read which was only one as he was not the most cultured sort. He walked up to the front desk which had a nice young Japanese lady sitting behind it.

"Er... This the fighting tournament thing?" His plain toned voice had a sound of uncertainty about it. That was largely due to the fact that he was uncertain.

"Yes, this is the Annual Japanese Championship. Tickets to the stadium are twenty three hundred yen." She answered him politely with a friendly smile.

"Tickets? Ah, no. I came to sign up as a fighter. A contestant, you know?"

"Oh. In that case you'll need to pay a twenty three thousand yen signup fee and sign these waivers."

"Twenty three thousand? Yikes, that's like, er, two hundred and thirty bucks."

Though the price for entry was high for folks like Al he had some money set aside from his last winnings to pay for his entry. After all this wasn't his first time getting shaken down by tournament registrars. Handing over the money he grabbed the waivers and took a seat over at the far end of the benches, away from any unwanted company by about at least a seat or two. Bracing the papers against his knee he gave them a quick read over before returning to the front desk. He would of signed them where he was sitting but he hadn't the forethought to bring a pencil or pen along so he had to use the desk one which was chained to the desk. It sure was the sign of a shitty world when people didn't even have enough common decency to not steal people's pens, resulting in these ridiculous pen protection measures.

After Al had signed and handed back the waivers they led him to a room where they ran down what he had brought and scanned him to make sure he hadn't brought anything that wasn't declared beforehand. Just the usual safety precautions these dubiously legal sports had to carry out to ensure the safety of people before they step into the ring. Once the contestants enter it seemed it was no holds barred, an outright blood sport where little wasn't allowed. At least, that's the impression it gave Al. He had little clue as to what was up with this one. He figured he'd have time to read the rules to tournament combat while he waited to be called up to fight.

After being given his number and told to wait for a while he made his way along when he spotted a coffee shop, something that drew his eye immediately. Set in the building that hosted the tournament was a plain old-fashioned cafe, not one of those creepy Japanese novelty cafes that Al avoided like the super plague. Stepping in he ordered a black coffee and took a seat at one of the round tables. When his coffee arrived he idly sipped it while he read a written copy of the tournament rules and regulations.

Sitting calmly, drinking coffee and reading something just to occupy his mind. This right there was the high point to his day. The rest was only going to get worse from there.

It always found a way.

Standing just beyond the door of the arena entrance, stood Kurokami Makoto. Like a living statue, her posture was immovable, arms crossed and stance wide. Her expression was just as rock-solid, an unblinking mask of determination. However, that was exactly what this stance was: a mask. Internally, Makoto was so excited she could hardly contain herself. In fact, she really wasn't able to contain herself at all. Despite standing perfectly still, small bursts of ki kept erupting from her like invisible firecrackers.

And who could blame her? This was her first true tournament, practically on a world's stage. It took some convincing (threatening) to get her, essentially a no-name fighter, into the competition, but using her grandfather's name here and there greased the wheels. She wasn't overly pleased that she had to rely on his reputation to get a place in the tournament, but if nothing else she was confident that after her performance here, she wouldn't have to ever again.

It was almost time, and she gave herself one last check-over. Rather than her usual attire of stylish black clothes, she instead wore the traditional gi of her grandfather's temple. Black of course, with the white belt worn by students and disciples. It peeved her slightly that she still held no official rank within the temple, but that was all bound to change. She ran a hand through her hair, ensuring that in was still as silky-smooth as it had been this morning. A lesser fighter might have tied up her hair, but Makoto wasn't one to sacrifice beauty for such a minor advantage. She pouted slightly, noticing that it was starting to frizz. Was it about to rain?

Finally she could hear the loudspeakers call out, "...Our first round competitors! From Okayama Prefecture, the Goddess of Battle, Kurokami Makoto!"

---

Fafnir had been waiting among the crowd of cheering mortals and the other warriors that had been awaiting there turn to sign up. The dragon was still in bitter thoughts over the entree fee, as the thought of having to pay for sport sat ill with him. In his day, such fees were unheard of as far as he could recall. Though not since the Roman coliseums had he witnessed the sport of honorable combat be so extravagant for spectators. This was his second tournament of this era, and after losing his first match in Rio, he had become anxious and uncharacteristically impatient for his next fight. Still that anxious desire, that itching instinct for combat, didn't stir the primordial knight's unwavering gaze to one of the matches. Adorned in his plated armor, his still and silent posture made him appear as a statue amidst the spectators. He watched with anticipation between a rather spectacular match of two men, one with a great blade, and the other adorned in blue, launch each other back and fourth. When the final blow was delivered and the crowd became deafening loud at the result, Fafnir smiled.

Rain had come from seemingly no where. Strange, as the clear skies bore no indication of such weather. The dragon knight has lived for a great deal of time, it wasn't unheard of for unexpected weather. Still, something about today and a small sense of suspicious from some others in his field of view made him a tad bit cautious. It would be a true dishonor for something to interrupt his fight or the fights of these fellow warriors. Such a thought left a bad taste in his mouth. As so, he remained some vigilance towards the surrounding crowd and the sky. As creature of cold-blood, the cold rain was a mild discomfort even in his armor. While he couldn't manage his body temperature naturally, through use of ki he was able to drastically increase his own heat. Using a lesser variation of his 'Burning Honor' technique, his body was heated up enough to boil water at the touch, though there were no external flames present to alarm the surrounding crowd. Drops of water that fell upon the armored behemoth sizzled into steam almost immediately.

Seeing another match was about to take place, still awaiting his turn, the once unmoving dragon turned to some of the potential competition. The ki he could feel from some of the nomads present here gave him a small sense of thrill. Two that really caught his attention were what appeared to be a descendant of dragon's, and a strange woman engaging in conversation. From his distance, his crimson eyes stared towards them in curiosity. More interested in the one who may potentially share an ancestral kinship, his stare was diverted back to the arena. The very thought of the pleasure of watching another potential wild battle between two warriors was enough to satisfy his impatience for his match.

Tokyo Stadium, contestants' lounge

---

The crowd erupted in cheers as the winner of the last match stepped out of the ring and the next fighters readied themselves for the next rounds. Hot blood was pumping and the anticipation filled the locker rooms and corridors in the backstage with an electric atmosphere. While some potential champions would be stretching and warming up others could be found going over their strategies, frantically trying to work out any last minute tricks that they could take advantage of. All fighters worth their salt were eagerly, and somewhat nervously, waiting for their turn to step into the ring.

Not Bec though. A small folding table was set up in one of the waiting rooms. Several contestants and tournament staffers were huddled up around it, appreciating another type of showdown. Between the shoving spectators, two men sat across the table facing each other. One of them was a tall and burly man, furling his eyebrows as he looked over his hand of cards, alternating between the money he bet on that game and the smile painted across his opponent's face. The man on the other end of the table was a touch smaller and lacked such an imposing physique yet his expression was a clear indicator of who had control of the situation.

"Come on, ya radian," came the smaller man's voice, denouncing a slight italian accent, "I'd like to get another game in before it's my turn in that ring. Put down more digits or get off my table."

His opponent glared at him, clearly at the end of his rope, and finally threw down the cards in his hand, a trio of jacks.

"I fold, smug asshole..." The spectators let loose their breath, some of them claiming a spot to challenge the italian man that laid down his cards face down on the table, smilling as he collected his money. The loser of the bout grit his teeth and aggressivelly snatched the cards from the table.

"A pair," came an angry shout, "what kind of game do you think you're playing? I had you beat!"

The now richer man looked at him from beneath his hat and simply shrugged, taunting the man with his smile. As the more imposing contestant stood up, knocking down the chair and glaring at the young man, he was quickly but discreetly alerted by the surrounding staffers about his permanence in the building. After murdering the victor with his eyes one last time the burly gentleman turned his back and walked out of the small crowd.

Bec remained in his chair, shuffling his cards and savouring his victory. He would have felt proud of his achievement had it not been the most natural result to come out of the game. Looking towards the clock on the wall he took note of the time left until he would stand up to take part in the tournament. The young prodigy leaned back on his chair patiently waiting for his next victim to sit down across the table.

A white car rolled through the streets of Japan. It had no markings, even that of a manufacturer, save for the small logo carved on the mirrors of an oval with an iris towards the top, with a curve touching the iris's bottom and stretching down towards the bottom of the oval both shapes were inside of.

Rod sat in the back seat with his left leg over his right, holding a handful of photos in one hand and a brick phone in the other. The interior of the car was highly decorated, colored an ivory white with silver trims. The driver was completely isolated from Rod's conversation over the phone.

"Yknow I think this is a major success. Just my two-cents though."

Rod fanned through the pictures. Each of them were hastily taken shots of dead bodies. Hardly any blood in any of them. All of the closeup images showed the bodies were all wrinkled and withered, their eyes open and their faces bearing some tint of the horror they experienced at the time of death.

"Well hey, I mean the thing broke out of our security measures, made it all the way from Rio to Japan, and it's still killing people with a MAVERICK outpost nearby? Sounds like someone earned themselves a pat on the back."

...

"No, that wasn't a passive aggressive insult towards you."

...

"Yeah. No prob. Get in there, find the rat, knock his ass out, bring him back before anyone notices. Gotcha. Although it sure would've helped to send some backup."

..

"O-Oh. Her? What's she here for?"

...

"Gotcha, you don't trust me. Thanks. Yeah talk to you soon. Oh and by the way, did you get my memo? Yknow, about inventing phones that can't be tracked but aren't the size of a brick? Hello?"

Rod put his phone down and tossed the pictures into the seat next to him. The car pulled to a stop outside of some Hotspring, which MAVERICK had adopted as it's base of operations within the city. It was a good place to start. On Rod's belt was a device made to track SYM-04, with a range large enough to cover the entire city, that would activate once SYM-04 used his Ki Drainer again.
The only major concerns were additional robot sightings (which was apparently more concern than a bloodthirsty abomination that literally devoured people's life energy, if Horizon Frontier reports were correct), and SYM-04 having left the city. In the off chance that robots would appear, all Rod would have to do was lean back while MAVERICK soldiers turned them to glass again. The other issue, SYM-04 going a while without feeding, wouldn't be much of a problem. That Thing needed to feed at least once a day, and the dumb thing couldn't leave the city before then. Even if he did wean himself, Ivory would probably just find him herself have another pet to groom. Which stirred some concern in Rod. Not only did she just freak him out, being a Symbiote capable of walking, talking, and controlling other Symbiotes, but she was sent here when Rod had no idea anyone else was coming along. Which meant Horizon Frontiers still didn't trust him.
But still, less work for him. Rod pulled out and lit a cigarette, leaning next to the pole, waiting for SYM-04 to strike agai--

drip

... Son of a bitch, it was starting to rain. The day after he bought his new jacket. He didn't want to screw up the radar's range, so he had no choice but to walk inside of the hot spring, where he sat in the lobby, waiting (im)patiently.

_{Tokyo, Japan.}

---

---

Inanna watched with awe as the match ended, leaning on his staff with his mouth partially agape. Japan was a fascinating place, what strange fighters they had! And all the lights and buildings and bustling streets, it was so different from his home! Of course, he didn’t have much in the way of money, so he couldn’t actually experience too much of it...

It’s obvious that there’s nothing of value to us here, the voice nagged from within. You should have left half an hour ago. Inanna shrugged. There was something exhilarating about watching these battles, he just had to stay and see them.

I can’t even fathom why you would find interest in such petty, bloodless battles when you can fight something perfectly fine on your own the voice continued. Back in my time, we fought for keeps. Whatever happened to these mortals to- it was interrupted by someone nudging Inanna in the shoulder. He reflexively hugged his staff as he turned his head to see the Nomad who won the fight!

“Oh, hello!” Inanna chirped when he asked him what he thought of the fight. “Yes, I thought your technique was very unconventional!” Brutish and unrefined. The golem ignored the voice as he smiled at the Nomad.

---

_{Otaru, Japan}

---

---

Seshat frowned as the man’s eye began to glow. Most likely the work of some sort of scanning device. He seemed to have access to many such gadgets; GPS and even holograms, and it made her wonder how he got his hands on them. Perhaps she would get the chance to ask later, and see if she could record copies for herself? He gave her the directions before she could put any serious thought into the idea.

“Thank you,” Seshat said. “May you find peace and balance in your future.” She began to move on, ready to refocus on her mission, when the man asked her a question right as she raised her hand to wave goodbye.

It was if she was going there for R&R.

Something about this question; its absurdity, the cautious way in which he asked it, the very idea of wasting time on something so indulgent, something about it made her laugh. It went on for several seconds, bordering on delirium until it faded.

“Of course,” Seshat said humorously. “I am going to relax at the hot springs, now is a great time for a vacation.” She turned back to face him and waved her free hand at the abandoned streets and clouded skies.

“No,” she said, dropping the act. “I’m here to take care of this robot problem. Is this not why you are here as well?” She looked at this person with some degree of bemusement. What would he be doing here then, geared up as he was, if he wasn’t after the same thing?

---

_{Tokyo, Japan.}

---

---

“COME ON!” A cry rose over the din of the crowd. “TIME YOUR GODDAMN POSES BETTER!” Jill exhaled as the hero in blue was sent flying out of bounds. She slammed a fist down on the bike that she somehow managed to bring with her. What a disgrace… Still, after what felt like ages of working on set for the show and going back to the States to do promotional deals until her brains melted, it was nice to participate in a tournament and really enjoy herself for once… even if marketing decided that she needed to participate in the tournament as another promotional event. She turned her gaze to Pit Stop.

“Is that joker with us?” she asked. The floating drone turned its gaze to the fallen hero and made a strange whirring noise for a second or so before turning back to her and giving a halfhearted boop, arms extended in a lazy shrug. Jill shrugged back. She was beginning to simmer down when she received a tap on the shoulder. The question he asked would be easy to answer, but she was caught a bit off-guard by the fact that he was a skeleton. Pit Stop booped nonchalantly.

“Oh,” Jill said. “Uh, yeah, I’d say.” Was she seriously so into it that she didn’t even notice him before? Now she felt kind of stupid. Pit Stop booped a couple more times, giving a quick weather update, and she lost her fixation on the floor of the arena for a moment to check out the rain. Her gaze fixated on some of the MAVERICK personnel for the umpteenth time that day as her attention began to drift back around. What was even the deal with them? They fucked up in Rio, so that gives them the excuse to storm in and goof around on SHINING turf? She’d love to set them straight in the ring. She huffed as she turned back to the skeleton. He was still focusing on her. It was kind of starting to weird her out.

“So, uh, how about that weather?” Jill asked sheepishly, trying to make things a bit less awkward.

---

Karliah took a deep breath, in and out, in and out... This was it, the time has come to put all her training to the test. She had worked nearly her entire life for this moment, finally, she was going enter a big tournament and take home the prize. Though, she didn't really have a home now, but she had a promise to keep, and she wasn't about to go back on her word.

In the back of her mind, she was nervous, and rightfully so. Out of everyone at this tournament, she was the most normal fighter, with nothing but her rugged fighting style and some basic ki manipulation.

It would be an uphill battle for her, but on her life, she would win it, not just for herself, no, not even for herself, but for her friends back at the orphanage, for those who believed in her. "I... Will win..." she mumbled to herself in a low tone.

"...Our first round competitors! From Okayama Prefecture, the Goddess of Battle, Kurokami Makoto!" And her opponent, a nomad with no home but a name, The Puglist of Absolution, Karliah Reis!" Kurokami Makoto... Her first opponent... Karliah couldn't help but scowl at the announcer's titles... Pugilist of Absolution... Really? She shook her head and headed towards the ring, this was it, no looking back now.

Mori remained fixated on the Draconian while he spoke his expected stoic response. It was a typical disposition of the timeless so much so that they were held to this common stereotype even if Mori, herself, had never met one previously. As the words sank in, Mori couldn't help but be amused by the response. Gaia was not what Mori was implying when she said the tournament was going to end abruptly and even though her meaning may have not be explicit enough, she chose to assume the Draconian was either clueless or deflecting. Either scenario was something that tickled Mori's mind as one meant this likely powerful being was oblivious or trying to keep some noble stoicism around the people. There wasn't much else to consider, although it did cross her paranoid mind briefly that the Draconian could have been in on something. Regardless, her reaction was the same, undetectable behind her mask.

Mori allowed the Draconian to continue, however, and the earlier amusement shifted to wonderment to confirmation that the creature was deflecting. Of course something was amiss! MAVERICK was moving with some sense of urgency and the regular attendants were all on edge. There was a tension in the air and it didn't come from the weather patterns. Watching the Draconian move towards the door, Mori remained idle for a moment longer before hearing his call for answers to questions that he was still keeping close to his chest. Mori fluttered over to the doorway calling back to him. "I have the feeling you may not need go far for answers, Dragon." She stopped as she heard the announcement of the tournament's continuation before turning back to the conversation at hand.

Although Mori wasn't necessarily noble, she knew at the very least that panic was something the masses were prone to and avoiding the topic until now, when it was just the two of them in earshot beyond this doorway made it a better time to be curt about the situation."Last year's tournament was ended by an abrupt visit from unfriendly figures. I have no doubts that the very same thing is happening again. They can pretend it isn't going to happen but you and I already know it is. What possible questions would you need answers to that you don't already know?"

---

Getting to Japan with all her gear had been difficult, but it was worth it for the payday involved. The well paying jobs in Rio had all but dried up anyway. Either way, it was nice to be part of a crew again. Otsana took her eyes off the road to look at her phone, the map showing exactly where they needed to go. "A few clicks down this road, about 15 Minutes until we reach the MAVERICK checkpoint," she shouted back. SHe briefly caught sight of a duo in heavy armor, one of them even touching down with what looked to be a jetpack."Sweet, looks like we've got some heavy competition around here."

They didn't slow down as they passed the two on foot, too busy pulling ahead of the Jonas. Following her phone's instructions, she led them down the unpopulated streets, swerving around the occasional robot left in the road. "Jeez, someone's head is going to roll once we track down the source of the bots." Soon enough they approached the first checkpoint, slowing down to a stop.

A masked soldier with MAVERICK's logo on his helmet took one look at them and simply asked, "You here for the job?"

Otsana flashed him a smile. "Of course. Got three of us here," she motioned back to the truck, "ready to do our bit."

To soldier shrugged and just waved them through, pointing them towards a mall parking lot. "You can park over there. Head to the hot springs for more information."

Otsana nodded and gave him a two finger salute. "Thanks." As they headed over to the lot, she felt a few drops of rain his her head, making her ears flick. "Ah damnit." She looked up, another drop hitting her goggles. "Guess I'll need the tarp."

---

Margot watched the unfortunate opponent in blue get up from their ring out. The winner's style was clearly self taught, which was pretty unusual for a weapons user. "What a ridiculous sword, but it works for him." Margot had watched the fight from under one of upper levels, a hot can of coffee from one of the numerous vending machines in hand. Scanning the crowd some more, she spotted a good mix of humans and mythics including Fafnir, her opponent from Rio. "Oh good, he got out alive." She smirked and sipped some more of the sweet coffee down.

Scanning the rest of the crowd, she of course spotted the many many MAVERICK agents, some of them even in plain clothes, ready to nip any trouble off at the bud. She didn't need her mask to be able to spot their hidden weaponry, not that they really needed to hide them in this crowd. Also noteworthy was the sheer number of mythics in the crowd. Beyond the aforementioned dragon knight, she spotted another more blatantly draconic creature, and what appeared to be a fairy. "I better go say hello to Fafnir. See how he's holding up." Moments before she turned towards the stairs, she heard the telltale 'drip drip' of water falling on her hat, clouds forming overhead. Her mask chimed in with a weather alert from the JMA. "Hrm, that's odd. They're usually better about this." Even so, she headed downstairs to wards the rest of the crowd as they roared with the announcement of the next match.

---

---

Callus pauses his advance as he listens to the announcement at hand, as well as the fairy's response prior to it, and continues thinking on the event that's currently happening. She's already stating the obvious to him, although she may not recognize his telepathic abilities which is quite understandable. The Draconian already knows about everything that is going out both in and out of the stadium, both with the rising tension of within and the agents deploying beyond the walls. He's not just an old figure that's lost his hearing through the years, otherwise he wouldn't have likely heard the word that there would even be a tournament today. These assumptions would've galled him considerably, but he has learned to keep his temper trampled beneath his unperturbed essence. Now he doesn't really care what many people think or call him, for he has succeeding in putting himself in peace. All what really matters is that he knows who he is, his strengths, his weaknesses, his capabilities, and everything else. And as long as he knows where he lies, he has little to doubt.

The Draconian continues listening to the fairy, notifying about what happened to the prior event at Rio, as well as trying to be the wisest person in the room. If only she recognized to whom she's talking to...

"Who." answers Callus as he faces towards the woman, "Who, is the question. Who are we facing with. Could it be that we're facing a terrorist organization wanting to cause chaos or a deity bent on vengeance. Yet there's absolutely no doubt that this storm has to do with the evil that is slowly creeping in. I'm certain of it."

He then proceeds to finally enter the archway.

"If I make haste," Callus mentions as he waits for the elevator, "I might be able to identify the looming threat before it arrives... I only hope that I'm not too late."

---

---

Aleksandr's horrendous attempt at humor seems to have a brief moment of surprising success before the woman declared her reasoning for going there. It's certainly clear that he's not the best when conducting comedy, but at the same time it can be considered as a serious question. It's a weird amalgamation of two polar opposite themes, making it difficult to figure out if it's one or the other. Could it be his weird sense of humor kicking in? Or perhaps its the lack of sleep for three full days that is finally beginning to affect him. It could be both for all he knows, yet the commando does consider the female warrior to be part of MAVERICKS. After all, who else in a metal suit consider asking a soldier like him directions to the spa. And ironically, Aleks strangely wasn't given that order to go. All Aleks was given was to patrol the nearby area of Otaru for this robot problem and that was it.

Strange.

But he might as well go along with this little event. The man clears his throat as he too drops his "act" and gets back to being serious

"Yes." he replies bluntly as he turns off his holographic projection, "I'm here for same thing. Pardon my aloofness... Lack of sleep can do things to you. Let's go."

Makoto set out into the arena, arms held at her sides in a posture of power and control. As she took her designated starting position, she eyed her opponent. She was actually quite cute, even Makoto had to admit, and she felt a small pang of trepidation over the fact that she was about to brutalize someone who was so adorable. She shook herself of such thoughts, remembering that this was more important. Once she managed to make a name for herself at the world stage, then she could concern herself with flirting.

Her crimson gaze never tearing away from her opponent, Makoto gave her a stiff, formal bow, and dropped into her stance. The Kuroi Hoshi style focused on mobility and adaptability, and so it was high-set and light-footed. One hand readied and outstreched to deflect, and the other coiled and ready to strike back and punish her opponent. Makoto carefully studied her opponent's stance in turn, ready to analyze it to determine her fighting style and weaknesses.

Karliah bowed back to her opponent and took uup her fighting stance. It was a kin to that of a boxer, with both hands positioned in a way that she was ready to block any incoming frontal attacks. She studied Makoto's stance and took a deep breath, this was a decently experienced fighter she was facing, nevertheless, she wasn't gonna go down easily.

She waved her hand at Makoto, taunting her to make the first move, if she could get her into a sufficient range, then she could proceed to take her down quickly with a few hard hitting punches.

A boxer, eh? Makoto smiled cruelly, her red eyes giving her expression an air of true malevolence. If she wanted Makoto to make the first move, fine, but it remained to be seen if she could handle what Makoto was ready to dish out. With speed that ripped through the air like a thundercrack, Makoto cleared the entire distance between herself an her opponent in a single dash. Once she was practically on top of the other girl, she immediately unleashed a Black Star Strike. Makoto willed enough power into the blow to destroy her opponent in a single strike, just as she had always done. Even if the other girl was fast enough to read the attack and block, Makoto would power forward and break through her defences with sheer force. She wasn't worried about a counterattack; if this attack went through, there would be no counterattack.

There! She fell for the taunt perfectly. Though her speed surprised her, Karliah could see where the attack was coming from. Rather than block it, she shifted to the side and smacked Makoto's fist away before delivering a swift strike to her gut. And before she could even recoil from the counter, Karliah hit her with a quick one-two before kicking her away. She didn't expect it to do much, whoever this girl was, she clearly had unnatural speed and strength.

The deflection of her attack caught Makoto by surprise, but she was able to learn much from her opponent's movements. Namely, that she had almost no training. Her strikes were slow, clumsy, and clearly telegraphed. Makoto was able to brace herself enough to withstand her counterattack without much difficulty, and she had recovered from her missed punch by the time the followup attacks came. However, when her kick came, Makoto was ready ready to punish. She caught the kick in the crook of her arm, and then locked the girl's ankle in place. Now that she was immobile and helpless, Makoto brought her other arm down in a hammer-blow on the girl's knee. A decisive strike here would completely disable her, possibly even breaking her leg.

As she thought, an uphill battle, only this hill turned into a mountain. Makoto had braced herself for Karliah's attacks and had even caught her kick, Karliah couldn't move. Makoto then delivered a blow to Karliah's leg, pain shot through her body causing her to cry in pain. "Let... Go!!" charging her ki, she released a massive shockwave that would at least knock Makoto away.

Karliah laid on the ground, gritting her teeth from the pain, at present, there was no way she was moving. She sat up and charged ki into her fists, she needed to keep Makoto at bay. She started throwing punches with rapid succession, sending fist shaped blasts at Makoto.

The blast of ki had sent Makoto flying away, but such a desperate, uncontrolled blast was more disruptive than damaging, and so a quick roll in the air was enough for her to land easily on her feet. Seeing the state of her opponent, unable to rise to her feet, Makoto grinned again. This battle was over. With the same blazing speed as before, she strafed around the other girl, forcing the majority of her projectiles to miss. The few that nearly hit their mark, Makoto was able to swat out of the air with a few ki-infused punches of her own. Once she had circled just about to her opponent's rear, she charged in, a massive concentration of ki welling up in her fist. The coming attack was at once both obvious and something of a ruse; her strike would be powerful and obvious, but its power would come not from the impact of the punch, but the explosion of ki that followed: the Black Star Pulse.

At this point, Karliah was running out of options. The difference between their skills were obvious and it seemed like she wasn't gonna win this fight. Gritting her teeth, Karliah turned around and crossed her arms in front of her, forming a barrier of ki. Unfortunately, she was expecting to block a punch, but instead she ended up blocking a ki infused explosion that came from the punch. The barrier blocked the attack, but Karliah was sent flying back. She hit the ground hard.

"Agh... No... Way..." she was out of options, she needed to end this now, even if she took severe damage. She staggered back to her feet, falling back to the ground a couple of times, before finally standing up, however with a pained look in her eyes. She had to use her Berserker Rage. She started to focus ki throughout her body.

*thoom*

The moment that her opponent staggered back onto her feet, Makoto was on top of her again; she was far from the kind of fighter that allowed her foes a chance to recover. If she could end the fight now and put her down for good, the absolutely would. Merely using her natural physical strength and speed, Makoto wailed on the girl with a constant barrage of attacks, never for a second relenting. She focused her attacks on the other girl's weaker side, forcing her to stress her injured leg in order to brace herself, or commit more energy to defending the already damaged extremity. Always, Makoto watched for an opening; if she could get in a solid kick to the injured knee and break it, the fight would be truly finished.

*Thoom*

Karliah took blow after blow, gritting her teeth as she kept focusing her ki, pain continuing to course through her body. Her heart beat becoming more rapid as time passed. Eventually, her mind finally snapped. The pupil's of her eyes vanished in a glow of ki and caught one of Makoto's punches. She quickly slammed a fist into the fighter's face, and started to wail on her with a barrage of her own. She became relentless, continuing the assualt and not even letting up, before she delivered a full force ki fist.

*THOOM*

Makoto began to grow frustrated as the rising aura of ki around the other girl blunted her attacks. Just as she was preparing to force her way though, her opponent snapped and delivered a powerful blow into her face. Makoto's head snapped back and she was sent skidding some feet away. That... hurt. Wiping blood from her split lip, Makoto grinned again, and roared savagely as she met her opponent's charge head-on. Not bothering to defend, she traded blow for blow in an all-out assault, holding nothing back.

*THOOM*

Makoto and Karliah's heads both turned to the ground as they felt the ground shake, their final blows whiffing past one another by inches. The crowd's ecstatic cheering fell to silence like a sheet of ice when the shudder was felt, a shudder violent enough to be heard over the driving rain. Someone shouted about an earthquake, but it was much worse.

*THOOOOOOM*

*CRUNCH*

There was a burst of stone shrapnel as a massive fist erupted from the ground next to the two fighters. As the newcomer pulled himself from the earth, the sound of shattering stone echoed through the arena, quickly joined by screaming as the walls around the compound broke and fell over, letting massive dark figures swarm over the walls. Makoto and Karliah looked on as the figure before them emerged from the ground, holding its club over its head in triumph.

A lightning strike illuminated the horned face and sneering grimace of the stone Oni as it unleashed a war cry.

---

As the Oni roar sounded over the nearby hills, a cloaked figure making her way through the town towards the arena looked up sharply, her icy blue eyes shining from under the hood.

"Søren, I may already be too late..."

The figure broke into a run, the rain around her turning to snow and sleet as she dashed by, before making a light skip and summoning ice beneath her feet to carry her towards the Oni attack faster.

---

---

*thoom*

Callus suddenly detects a faint rumble trembling from the ground, rippling from his feet and up through his entire body. The scaly Draconian's eyebrows perk up slightly as he looks towards the ground, raising his hand to halt the fairy from saying anything more. He listens carefully towards the ground, wondering if they heard it, but alas they seem as if they hadn't taken notice of it. After all, it was only a weak tremble that can be dismissed as an insignificant mini-quake. However to Callus, something about it was off.

"Did you feel that?" he asks the fairy curiously, making sure he wasn't going crazy.

*Thoom*

Another tremble surfaces, this one being slightly more powerful than the last.

"That." Callus confirms to the fairy, regardless whether she asked for specifics prior or not.

He frowns deeply as he crouches to the solid concrete ground, laying his claws and tails down to get a better feel for the shaking. He needs some quick answers from the Earth regarding the disturbance. This doesn't feel like an approaching earthquake. And even if it is, the pattern doesn't follow a traditional quake. He closes his eyes as he connects his soul with the ground below him, feeling every ripple through the ground as if it was a liquid mass. He can feel the faint stomping of cheering people and the solid blows coming from the opponents below, yet they were weak and predictable compared to what he just felt.

*THOOM*

The shaking becomes even stronger. This can only mean one thing. The shaking wasn't necessarily getting stronger, but rather it's coming closer. Callus' worse fears are finally coming to life, knowing full well what's going to happen. He swiftly perks up from his crouching position, feeling a sudden rush of blood flowing through his head as his body regulates the recent shaking jotting through his figure. He hesitates momentarily before regaining his figure, his eyes widening as he turns his head back at the fairy, with the elevator door opening behind him revealing two or three persons. The Draconian only mutters the phrase:

"It's coming this way."

*THOOM*

At that point, the ground became silent as they can finally feel the ground shake from underneath them. Now they sense what Callus has been feeling, but by this time it's far too late to alert the officials about it. Whatever's coming is going to burst out any second now. He can hear several people shout earthquake off in the crowd, but no one had no idea what's about to come, not even Callus knew exactly what's coming up. He bursts towards the railing gazing towards the stadium with a fearful gaze as he begins to sound the alarm.

"EVERYONE TAKE COVER!"

But it's already too late...

*THOOOOOOM*

*CRUNCH*



Bursting in between the two contestants, a giant stone oni emerges from the rock below as it's presence causes a mass panic of spectators attempting to get out of the entire stadium. Even the walls began shattering around the compound as massive dark figures began invading the facility. Callus only looks in sheer terror at the absolute calamity that has just been unleashed, hearing the echoing bellow of the barbaric monster and the cackling of electricity striking his grimacing face along with the black creatures pouring in. There's no time to waste. Whatever it wants, it's clear it's purpose is to wreck chaos through the event.

"Hold off the swarm." Callus says towards the fairy, "I'll deal with the brute."

The Draconian grips his Kurogica tightly as it begins to glow a reddish-brown haze. Through the intense concentration of the earth, Callus connects with the solid matter around him. Gaia permits the usage of the ground to Callus' will, the earth ready to be used against the malevolent terrorism beyond. Without any further delay, the Draconian jumps high into the air and into the radius of the battleground. He raises his sword into the sky, blade pointing downwards, as he attempts to slay the creature with his sword. Even if he misses and hits the ground, the impact unleashes a miniature earthquake of its own which attempts to throw the oni off balance. Regardless whichever strike happens first, Callus follows it up with several sweeping strikes at the lumbering oaf.

A creature of its size is easy to outmaneuver as long as a fighter keeps in constant motion and strikes both swiftly and efficiently.

---

"Madre de di-unf!"

Camila grunted as one of the screaming patrons of the event careened into her in his mad dash to escape, nearly knocking her backwards over the seat. "Watch where you're going, estupido!" Wiping her rain-soaked hair out of her eyes, she tried to get a good look at what the hell was going on. The downpour was torrential at this point, but even the driving rain wasn't enough to mask the sound of the attacking creature's roar and the loud crack of concrete as the creatures poured over the outside wall and up from below the arena. She rapidly pressed the 'alert' button on her communicator just as she felt the ground move beneath her feet, much closer then before. Camila didn't even have the time to swear violently before one of the stone monsters erupted from beneath where she had been standing moments before.

"Motherfu- YEAGH!" Camila rolled out of the way just before a club came down where her head had been, showering the immediate area with concrete dust. Before it could swing around for another strike, a blast of gunfire sounded from behind, and the stone creature's arm fell to pieces. Camila took the opportunity to scramble to her feet and escape as the creature bellowed and charged at the two MAVERICK grunts who dared to hurt it, catching one and hurling him into the other like a bizarre game of dodgeball.

"Hello, Del Bosque?!? What's going on?!?!"

"Oh thank Mother Mary," Camila shouted into her communicator, relieved to hear Captain Brenton on the line instead of that other ponce. "There's an attack on the arena Brenton, some sort of stone monsters! We need the THUNDERBIRD in here!" Realizing her bag was not with her, Camila leapt over the seats to retrieve it, only to come face to face with yet another stone demon thing.

"That explains why Command deployed the anti-material rifles. Can you make it back to the Quicksilver uplink?"

"Not unless I can fly...FUCK!" Camila dodged the stone hand by mere inches as she grabbed her gear. It was so close that she thought she felt stone scrape across her cheek as she quickly backed away. "Gonna have to use the mobile, it's a bit rough but it's functional."

"I'll save the usual 'it's too dangerous' spiel for later then," Brenton said dryly. "We're setting up THUNDERBIRD now, one minute to readiness." Camila looked up as the Oni lifted its club into the air, certain that she was about to get her head caved in, when a crack of a gunshot sounded over the din of the attack and the stone creature lurched violently, glancing down at where a bullet strong enough to take down a tank had bisected its chest. The creature's eyes, which Camila realized just now were glowing an ethereal shade of blue, faded out to nothingness, and smoke of the same color seemed to pour from its mouth as the creature collapsed, now a pile of lifeless stone. Momentarily stunned by her near-brush with being a pancake, Camila rapidly went though her snatched to set up the remote Quicksilver, hoping no other stone attackers found her.

"

Al

The ground shuddered. His coffee drinking was interrupted as he lowered the rules notes and glanced about to see what was causing the ground to rumble. Nothing immediately presented any notable source for the earth's subtle motions. Quite the mystery. With a shrug he was just about to pick up his papers when the ground shook yet again, harder this time.

"What the hell?" He swore under his breath, looking around now more confused as to what was going on than before. The whole cafe shook once more as the tiled floor erupted, the worked flooring exploding out from the point where a stone man was beginning to emerge. The massive stone figure pulled itself from the dirt and stood tall, looming over the mostly frightened masses at a terrifying... Eight feet tall, approximately. Alright, so it wasn't that big but considering they were in Japan it was basically a giant by comparison to most folks. To Al it was just two or three heads taller than him. While everyone else in the cafe were fleeing or hiding behind cover he just stood up, eyed the tall earthen adversary up and down to gauge how tough it might be, chugged down the rest of his coffee since he could barely feel the scalding hot liquid's intense heat and he crumpled the paper cup up with the same hand, tossing it over his shoulder once he was done.

"Damn. I was hoping to be wrong about this tournament." He uttered mostly to himself as nobody else could understand him and the ugly stone guy didn't seem to care. The statue with the glowing blue eyes held aloft it's big club and bellowed forth a great roar, one that was joined from many around. With an annoyed sigh Al put his fists up, getting ready for a scrap.

_
Taking his motion as a challenge the rock man charged at him, club raised high to crush him with sheer force. Just as it made it's move towards him Al kicked off his back heel and darted right past it's weapon's threat range. Seeing as it had no real plan to block any attacks on it there was nothing in the way of his target as he drove his fist into it's side with a powerful straight punch. Hitting the stone felt like hard clay against his fist, the surface shattering around his hand as he struck true. The force of the blow not only left a fist shaped crater in it's torso but also sent the whole thing flying back, smashing partways into the wall behind it.

Though damaged the statue was still mostly intact, pulling itself from the wall for round two. At this point Al was beginning to suspect he might not have that much to fear from this guy. While very heavy for normal folk for Al it was fairly light considering just one hit took it right off it's feet. Moving a lot more lax in his motion Al just kinda shuffled forward, hands still up of course as he watched for the big guy's next attack.

The statue's idea of mixing it's attack up apparently consisted of a one-two punch club swing as it tried to hit him with a sloppy rocky hook before kicking his momentum back around for an upwards swing. Al decided to brave the punch however, the blow glancing off his shoulder with minimal effect. Once again too close for effective clubbing he went to town, starting with an uppercut to the lower right side of it's stomach. Using the angle of his footing he brought his whole body into the blow, creating far more power than he had put in his straight punch. His fist crashed into the stoney surface of the animated statue, not stopping there as it drove up through it's body. He was all the way down to his elbow inside the thing. With his other fist he swung up with a long overhead hook to it's face. The blow basically crushed it's entire face, leaving his hand halfway into it's head.

_
After Al's little one-two of his own the force that kept the statue moving left, leaving the stone to crumble apart. His arms fell back to his sides as the stone which previously housed his fists began to disintegrate. With the statue now nothing more than loose rubble Al looked to his right hand which he had previously used to cave in the former statue's face. A strange blue energy seemed to sizzle away from the dust that covered his fist, dissipating into nothing.

"Everybody okay?" Al asked as he was dusting his arms off. There was little to no response as anyone who was able to understand him had fled. Seeing the complete lack of understanding Al turned his efforts back towards looking to see what was going on. Running out into the ground floor hall he looked out to see many more statue men rising up and...

"Are they... Climbing the arena?" He mildly exclaimed with equal parts confusion and surprise. What the heck is up with this arena? He wondered, looking over to the stairs leading up to the audience seats overlooking the arena itself. The MAVERICK guards who were standing by the entrance had long since ran in leaving the whole area conveniently open for entry. Running to and up the stairs he could hear the sharp echoes of gunfire both far and near, a sound only barely audible over the din of terrified screams.

He could only hope nobody was seriously injured as of yet. As much as he'd of rather sat this one out he'd hate himself more than he does already if he didn't at least try to help.