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Sephiroth watched the dragon's tirade bemusedly, the slightest hint of a smirk gracing his lips the entire time. It was quite an interesting devolution to be sure, as alongside the litany of curses and empty threats there was a single assertion that shone most brightly. Something about a Galeem, although he couldn't for the life of him place the name nor recognize it, how he was in his world and thus a 'two bit dime a dozen failure' as the beast had so ineloquently put it. In truth Sephiroth couldn't really bring himself to care much about the turtle's brutish remarks, for those who had a habit of resorting to such methods were usually the very thing they'd come to hate. He couldn't even muster up enough energy to care about the finger it had so casually jabbed into his chest, but the moment he threw a punch, dared to raise his fist in anger against someone such as him and managed to land more than a glancing blow...

That was when the game came to an end. Flying backwards from the force of the strike, Sephiroth quickly managed to right himself in midair. Planting his feet against the crumbling wall of a nearby building, he launched himself off of it, pulling his Masamune from its scabbard as he rocketed towards Bowser. Holding his sword off to the side, the former SOLDIER moved to strike directly at the creature's throat...

@Archmage MC, @Dawnrider, and @DracoLunaris

Oh, this girl was gonna be the fuckin' death of him. First, she shows her lack of experience with fighting to the death. Alright, fine, not everybody kills monsters for a living. Second, she runs off at the first sign of danger. Well, she had that Spirit she fused with, gave her a better shot. Not too crazy.

And then she went and tried to let the damn thing go. He didn't know what it was like where she came from, but he felt that the whole "they will fight you until they're dead, and even then they'll keep trying" part of this fucked-up, mix-and-match universe was pretty clear. Unless she was gonna pop out one of those freaky hearts and convince it with the power of friendship, her options were to kill the damn thing, or run away. No standing around talking, no convincing it the fight was over. Even if it were possible, strictly speaking, Geralt had fought too many damned fools who couldn't see when they'd been beat. He'd killed too many people who could've just...stopped.

This wasn't that kind of case, though. This was more akin to a rampaging Fiend that was too angry to stay down when half its lifeblood was on the floor. He shook his head, pulling out that strange weapon he'd gotten from crushing those Spirits. Surfacing, he took aim at the Water Princess and fired three times, only just then realizing that Ranger was coming to retrieve him. "Oh this is just rich. I swim all this way only to get manhandled back. Love it." His grumblings aside, Geralt didn't fight the Shipgirl coming to retrieve him. His part in all this was done. "Just put me down on the ship, and go back for her if she hasn't gotten her fool self killed by that point." The concern underlying his voice would be lost on the stranger, but it was there all the same.

Damn heroes. Damn, stupid heroes.

"Mission begins in thirty seconds!" The Administrator's voice called down to the color coded teams RED and BLUE as they made their last minute, or half-minute, preparations. As the members of RED crammed near the orange gate separating them from their victims, the Medic rushed over to a medical cabinet. He could hear his patients mocking him and his choice to bring his Crusader's Crossbow. The Medic could easily explain that, as combat wasn't really an option for him in the first place, it made more sense for him to replace his Syringe Gun with something that would allow him to heal from beyond the medium-range of the Medi-Gun. He could have, but he didn't, knowing that half the assembled team lacked the technological understanding to grasp his meaning, such as the medieval Knight he had practically had to tie down to keep the idiot from trying to "leech out all the bad blood" the last time his allergies acted up.

Letting out a small, quiet sigh, the Medic opened the cabinet, intending to grab a small bottle of chemical that, when injected, would act either as a small healing salve or a low-grade poison, depending on the color clothes worn by the user. This was something that, in truth, the Medic himself did not understand. Every time he tried to devote any kind of thought to it, however, something would interrupt him. "Mission begins in TEN SECONDS!" The Administrator shouted once more. Ja, like zat. The Medic thought in frustration. Not finding the bottle he needed, the Medic made a mad dash for the other medical cabinet at the other end of the spawn, the Administrator's voice informing him of how little time he had left. "Five... four..." She taunted as the medic flung open the second cabinet's doors. Scanning desperately, he found the bottle he was looking for! He reached in and grabbed it, only to immediately realize that it was far lighter than it should have been. Twisting the cap off, the Medic could see there were only two syringes left! They must have been raided by one of the more modern members, though he didn't put it past the 'roiding viking on their team. "Dumme suchtige!" He hissed as the Administrator continued her relentless countdown. "Three...! Two...!! ONE!!!" She cried, her bloodlust becoming audibly orgasmic. The Medic loaded one of his two syringes as he ran out onto the field, the orange gates collapsing with the sound of the air ride siren, signaling the beginning of the round. "Fight to the death!" The Administrator commanded, and though he was no soldier, the Medic obeyed.

No sooner had the Medic exited his spawn than he was pelted with a painful hail of bullets as an old Soldier chased him back through the door before firing a volley of rockets at the Heavy. Groaning painfully, the Medic retreated back into the spawn, hiding within. He spent a few moments pulling bullets out of his body, groaning as his health slowly returned. He then rushed back out to assist his team, as was his role. As he charged into the fray, he saw that same Soldier on the ground near the point, as were the Knight and Raider. They had both been knocked to the floor by a man with an impractically large Shield. With his large physique and magnificent mustache, he looked shockingly similar to Saxton Ha-... Vait, who? The Medic's mind had, for some reason, conjured the image of a giant Australian man, wearing only a hat, shoes, and what could very loosely be defined as "shorts". His mind's eye was full of continent-shaped chest hair when the sound of one giant man striking another erupted in front of the Medic, snapping him out of his momentary stupor and back to the task at hand.

Taking aim, the Medic fired a syringe directly into the back of the Heavy's skull, recovering his latest wound, but not much else. "Guten tag!" He greeted the Heavy. "Medic!" The Heavy shouted, grinning. "You are great doctor! Let us kill BLU now!" While the Medic didn't have many people he would consider friends, the Heavy was definitely one. Unlike the rest of the mercs in this desert, they had worked together for many years, and faced all kin- TKOOM!! the thunder of a rifle cracked the air. Looking up, the Medic saw an enemy sniper, sitting rather stupidly in plain sight. "Ready to practice medicine!" He taunted, firing his last syringe at the sniper. She dodged it easily, but was chased away by their medieval team mates. “Das ist gut! Ze lead is ours!!” He announced, hoping to rally his comrades. Unfortunately, the universe loved to prove the Medic wrong, and no sooner had he said it than the rest of BLUE seemed to appear, surrounding them. To be fair, the Medic conceded as he switched to his Medi-Gun. I did sell mein soul. It makes sense zat ze... The Medic shook his head violently, letting out an audible groan of frustration. It was as if someone else's memories kept trying to shove their way into his mind. He briefly considered that he might be going mad, but as he didn't see that as anything to worry about, he instead focused on keeping the Heavy alive. He was no pocket-medic, but hiding behind the yeti of a man was the best way to ensure the control point remained theirs. The Heavy, on the other hand, seemed thrilled, shouting "Good! Heavy was afraid this would be boring match."

Fortunately, help arrived in the form of their resident super soldier, who vaulted over both the Medic and Heavy to attack the shield man and his own knight. A moment later there was an explosion of red paint as a wounded squid child arrived. With the enemies temporarily dispatched, the small creature emerged from it's paint puddle and tugged on the Medic's coat, saying something in a language that sounded like drowning. Spotting the injury on it's shoulder, however, it was not hard to determine what the creature wanted. The Medic switched targets long enough to both heal and over-heal his strange little team mate. "DIE COWARDS!" the Heavy cried out, unleashing a torrent of bullets on the other team. After only a few moments, however, the Medic heard the familiar click click click of Sasha running out of ammo. The Heavy roared in frustration as he charged the Shield. The Medic watched in awe as the Heavy pummeled the Shield into submission, all the while the Spartan was engaged in a knife fight with an Assassin the Medic had not seen. Eventually the point was captured to the deafening battle cries of the Heavy Weapons Guy. "Zere ve go. Gud as new!" He said, sending the squid-child on her way once she was over-healed.

There was a momentary pause in the match, during which the Medic attempted to catch his breath. As he pondered whether to have his human shield charge forward and capture or remain behind and defend, his eyes landed on the crumpled body of the Spartan, evidently done in by the more skilled Assassin. Suddenly another rifle shot rang out directly behind him. Gasping, the Medic spun around and saw the Assassin herself crumple to the ground, her blade poised for a back stab. Only the Medic didn't see the Assassin, nor the Infiltrator who had saved him. Instead, his vision flashed to an image of himself, only for that "him" to erupt into smoke, revealing a French man in a rubber mask and expensive zoot suit. The butterfly knife fell out of his hands as another, thinner Australian shot him through a scoped rifle. On his back the Sniper wore a wooden shield to protect from this exact scenario. Then Blue Poison cried out as she was tackled by the inkling, the shout bringing Medic slamming back to reality, and the dead Assassin in front of him. "Vat is happening!?" He shouted, grabbing the sides of his head. He didn't even notice the dwarf flee.

The rest of the round went off more or less without a hitch. Eventually RED was announced the winners and most of them spent a few moments to power trip, chasing the BLUE members all the way into their spawn points to assert their dominance. Once the blood sport was over, they were allowed a small time to wander the map, free of duty or obligation for the time being. As the Medic put away the spent crossbow and retrieved his Syringe Gun, he overheard the Totem, a fellow healer, mention that Medic's late arrival had been the key to victory. "Zat reminds me." The Medic said loudly. "Eet vould seem zat somevon haz been schtealing supplize from ze medical cabinets! Zose are for healing, not recreational use! If you must affect your brhain chemistry, come to your healer first so zey can at least take notes! Zese medicines are all highly experimental and must be studied! Danka shon!" Good help was so hard to find, it sometimes felt like the other healers didn't even want to experiment on their patients. What was worse, nobody seemed to be paying any attention to him! It wasn't until the Soldier ineloquently inquired as to the "big camel" that the Medic turned around. Outside, far off from the map, a colossal, robotic camel made entirely of ceramics loomed, it's single, cycloptic eye staring down at them. "Uh-oh… Is this new BLU weapon? Tiny baby men need giant camel to win? Doctor, what is that thing?" The Heavy asked, both confused and impatient. Unfortunately, the good doctor had no answer to offer. "In my medical opinion, I have never seen anything like this before." That wasn't entirely true, he had seen massive robots before. Maybe not that large, maybe not camels, but he had helped fight off massive robots sent by...? by...?? by...?!?! But the answer wouldn't come. The Medic groaned aloud once more. Unlike the rest of these jarheads and cretins, the Medic's brain was his absolute most important strength, and the idea that, mad or not, it wasn't serving him infuriated him to no end. Perhaps he'd get the Totem to look him over after the next round.

Suddenly, a massive, etheral hand sprouted from the top of the camel's head, waving at them in what seemed a friendly manner. Dumbfounded, the Medic slowly waved back at it, not sure how to interpret the gesture. Just as suddenly, a young, cybernetic woman flew into the group of mercenaries, waving more enthusiastically than the camel's head-hand. She was soon joined by a giant bee or wasp with beautiful butterfly wings and some sort of were-wolf in a flight suit. Fox. Were-fox. The cyborg, android, whatever, introduced herself as Poppi, and her companions as Queen Sectionia and... Fox. Zey're vurse at naming zings zen I am! The Medic thought, looking the vulpine pilot over. Despite her lack of syntax, Poppi was able to communicate their reason for coming, that being to recruit extra guns for some kind of "save the world" type mission. The majority of the mercs laughed her off, though the Medic respected her clear thinking. Where else were they meant to fill out their ranks? The problem, in Medic's mind, was that of payment. Mann Co. was the leading supplier of arms for governments across the world, it was unlikely even a queen would have the money to buy any of them.

The Medic had just begun to wonder why he hadn't seen more of Mann Co. themselves when his thoughts were once again interrupted, this time by a loud "Ahem!" It was apparently the large insects turn to speak, which she evidently could. She prattled on for a bit about abstracts like beauty and purpose. The Medic knew what was beautiful and what his purpose was, both of those being the eternal quest for knowledge. However, she did manage to peak his interest when mentioning former allies. Visions of RED team, the real ones, Reliable Excavation Demolition, briefly danced through his head. The thoughts were literally shaken away, though, when the Heavy grabbed the Medic, violently shaking him while screaming about those same team members. The ape-man's eyes begged for answers, but Medic was just as lost as he was. Two people can't share delusions, could they? He didn't know, he was a medical doctor, not a psychiatrist! "Heavy, I… I don't know, zis iz very strange, und how do ve know ve truzt zem?" Zen again? He mentally countered. Eess it really zat much stranger zan ze ink-child I healed no less zen ten minutes ago?

As the Medic pondered, the Heavy decided. The Russian bear made his way over to the newcomers, making it clear that if there were even a .001% chance the real RED was out there, he was going to take it. This was the Heavy Ludwig had come to respect, further cementing the idea that he had had another team before this. As Fox began making his own speech, Medic walked up and stood proudly next to his most faithful patient and test subject. "Guten tag! I am ze Medic. You may refer to me as such, or as Doctor, Doc, etc." He introduced himself, bowing in the presence of royalty. He suspected she was less politcal royalty and more genetic royalty, being insectoid, but royalty was royalty. Listening in on the tail end of Fox's speech, it was clear that, unlike his female companions, Fox knew his way around battlefields, troops, and mercenaries alike. It looked like this new team was gaining quite a bit of traction. But, just like everything today, it was interrupted.

“What. Is. THIS!?” The Administrator's voice rang out from every speaker in she had access to. “Intruders! Unknown assailants, in the rec room! Mercenaries, destroy them!” Some of the other mercs tried to appeal to her sense of reason, but they didn't know her. This woman was not reasonable, she... she... She's dying! The Medic remembered, true terror gripping him as the world began to shatter around him. She took ze Australium und ran! Zats vhy ve vere attacked by Gray Mann! Zat's vhy I left! In a moment of pure instinct, the Medic raised a gloved finger and pointed it accusingly at the nearest speaker. "Ze Administrator ist a SPY!!!" He shouted, the words erupting from him before he himself could properly process them. Things quickly became heated, and in a bid to regain order over the mercenaries, the Administrator scrambled the teams. As the remaining mercs chose their teams, the defectors and strangers fled, making their way to cover, towards the camel that apparently served as their mobile base. The Medic stuck close to the Heavy during the ensuing fire-fight, trying to give him a healthy layer of Over-Heal before the next match started. As they continued to retreat, the Spartan emerged. Caught in the throws of what the Medic could only imagine was brain-numbing stupidity, the Heavy threw his gun down and pointed his bare finger at the super soldier as if it was a gun!!! The Medic was understandably dumbfounded when the Spartan flew backwards, as if shot with a shotgun at point blank range. There was no damage to the armor, but the Medic could see blood leaking out. As the Heavy continued covering they're retreat, the Medic couldn't help but shout "AMAZING, COMRADE!!!" A bolt of lightning suddenly struck a small group of advancing mercenaries, reminding the Medic that he needed to get moving.

As they reached the massive camel, it leaned down to them, revealing a large staircase. The Medic hid behind the Heavy as he continued providing covering fire. The Medic angled his Medi-Gun away from the Heavy, not enough to break the beam of mist flowing into the giant, but enough so that when one of the other recruits ran past, it would briefly attach to them, healing the worst of their wounds as they made their way up the stairs. Once out of range, the mist would reattach itself to the Heavy once more. When there were no more to protect, the Medic made his way up the stairs, shouting "Schnell, schnell!!"

Once inside, the Medic immediately set about healing his fellow defectors, stopping only long enough to High-Five the strange little engineer that welcomed them on board. There seemed to be some discussion of what to do with them, but it was brushed away as the apparent pilot of the mechanical beast introduced herself. "So. Who are you all anyway? I’m Midna, the Princess of the realm of Twilight by the way." The creature was about the size of a very short woman, with proportions that suggested as much, though despite apparently being nude, the Medic could see no sign of any orifices aside from her mouth. Even the mammalian lumps on her chest were smooth and bare. To make things stranger, she floated a few feet off the ground as she spoke, one golden eye peering out from behind what the Medic thought was a very nice hat. She introduced herself rather casually for royalty, but the Medic didn't mind. Bowing in half once again, one arm in front, the other behind, the Medic answered her question. "Eet iz an honor to meet you, your highness. I am ze Medic, zo my team mates also refer to me as "Doctor." Und zees ees mein gud friend, ze Heavy Veapons Guy. Ve appreciate ze assistance in finding our missing comrades, and are villing to do vatever it takes to assist you in your own endeavors." When asked what they wanted out of this, the Medic replied honestly, bluntly, and without the tact required when speaking to royalty. "Oh, let'z zee... Aside from finding our team mates? Mahney, veapons, hats... also, und zese eez just mein personal preference, a chance to study new and unique life forms. Und zen experiment on zem! Incidently, vat vould you say your species is?" He asked, taking a pencil and notepad from the breast pocket of his lab coat.

With everyone else on board, Sectonia made her way to the divine guardian and was one of the last flyers to arrive. All in all, they did a pretty good job gathering these mercenaries. The man who was almost as big as her and his companion with the extremely thick accent being the ones that radiated the most potential to the queen. Especially since the bespectacled man could heal much like their robot companion. Midna, after giving Tora a high five, was the first to greet the newcommers to their team. Having not been with them when Sectonia and the group had convinced them to join them, Midna had no idea what they wanted and thus, asked while also pointing out she was royalty. The Medic was the first to reply to Midna's question, with mostly the same answers Sectonia had offered them, although his 'personal' preference was a bit strange.

"Hm, I see Doctor. As I promise the first three things are definitely things that we can offer you. And I don't know if hats in your world grant you powers, but the ones we have found so far do." Sectonia said, pointing to the arcane horns that she fused with her crown that spawned damaging orbs if she got healed. "Although your personal request... Well, as you can see from my minions here, finding strange things will not be a problem. As for what I am, if you must ask. I am a Sectonian." There was something about this 'doctor' that worried Sectonia. While it seemed like he'd do his job of healing, 'something' about him was disturbing but she couldn't put her finger on what.

With their mission complete, Tora asked the group what they should do next, wanting to get the input of everyone. Midna, who was bored waiting for everyone to come back, quickly said that they should go to the pyramid that premise went to alongside the phantom thieves. Sectonia shrugged at her suggestion. "That was the plan. Unless we can figure out where the boss is." She said, flying low to investigate the mercs that had joined. They all still had the red glow of Galeem's influence, but that should be worked out in time.

===============================================================



While Blazermate thought over the skull heart and all that, Linkle saw the power as something she could use to help benefit everyone and against the warnings of everyone, took the skull heart into herself with her wish to be a hero that could save the world. And Bowser, having experience in dealing with backstabs and relics, did see this coming with the skull heart backstabbing linkle's well intention of a wish. Soon after, the Organization 13 members took Linkle away before anyone could do anything to save her from the skull heart's influence, with time stopping thanks to that camera man they saw a while ago who was still lurking around the dead zone. While he spouted off a few words, Blazermate didn't really hear him that well. She was thinking about how, if she had made a wish, it would've been something similar to Linkle, although replace being a hero with making sure everyone was well.

Once the abduction of Linkle was complete, time unfroze. Bowser wasn't taking it very well, and Blazermate was a bit distracted herself. "Linkle..." She said. Bowser, frustrated, attacked the, clearly bothered newcommer with a sword. He was peaceful at the start, with the level 1 sentry not firing upon him. At least, this is how things were, until Bowser landed a punch on him and sent him flying backwards. "Hey wait Bowser, he seemed..." Blazermate started, but then thought to herself. While he didn't look like a good guy, he was also peaceful. And from what she gathered from Bowser and Sectonia, they weren't the 'heroes' of their worlds either, but still had their nice points, especially Bowser. If he was really evil, then he would've attacked everyone, especially with his interest in the Skull Heart. And that was made apparent as he began to fight bowser with his quick speed and lengthy sword.

However, since he was now hostile, the sentry that the engineer made beeped once and turned its turret to face Sephiroth, firing its large caliber bullets at the one winged man with perfect accuracy. Blazermate meanwhile gave Bowser an overheal, saying. "We don't have time for this! We should retreat before this place gets nuked into oblivion!" She looked at Ms. Fortune, who told them about said void-out, as she was the one that told them about all of this, but also kept an eye on Sephiroth. Bowser fighting him here could be a blessing in disguise, as he could be easily friend hearted afterwords, as long as the koopa king didn't turn the man into a smear on his fist. Although with how Anime he looked, Blazermate was also worried for Bowser.

Sure enough, the girl didn't plan to take bifurcation lying down, no matter how conflicted the situation with Seaplane Tender left her. For all Sakura's skill skill, the Abyssal realized, she didn't know how things worked around here—what war truly meant. She was innocent and naive to believe she could achieve victory while her foe still floated. And it would be the death of her.

Sakura unleashed a brilliant fireball of ki, but even at full strength it fell well short of an artillery shell's travel time. Knowing full well the power of that azure flame, the Water Princess lurched to the side out of its way, and gave her retort. The tire-sized shell fired a touch early, slowing it down just enough so that the street fighter could twist partially out of the way as she advanced, and suffer a bone-breaking blow to the arm rather than a fatal one to the chest. With ironclad commitment, however, Sakura sped on. The Water Princess raised her tail to snap shut on the incoming fighter only for a series of small explosions beneath her to throw her off. Where they came from she didn't know and couldn't find out. Sakura was hear, and the Abyssal moved with desperation. They clashed upon the open ocean.

Seaplane Tender swung her arm hard enough for the force to send up sea spray, but Sakura went low. The Abyssal's nails clipped through one of her opponent's new ears, rather than her throat, and at the same time Sakura landed a brutally-aimed elbow. Breathless, Seaplane Tender reeled back, and suffered the girl's beatdown. When she went for the sweep, however, the Abyssal's bloodied eyes cracked open. She leaned back, raising both legs off the ocean's surface, using her tail as a third leg. When she bobbed back forward, her hand clutched one of her bombers tight. A slap of her tail against the ocean's surface thrust her forward. “....Adieu!” With the last of her strength she slammed the bomber into Sakura's stomach, and the world went away.

It came back a few moments later as overloaded senses reluctantly got back to work. The Water Princess lay half-submerged in the water, her left forearm a grisly stump, her body broken and burned. Yet still the stubborn thing didn't die. Her half-melted eyes stared listlessly upward as she whispered. “Cold...so cold. And dark...don't want...to sink...again...”



Despite his implicit intentions, the black-robed photographer did not leave Red Team ready and rearing to take on the zone boss, and in fact left quit a tumult in his wake. Mixed feelings rummaged among the gathered fighters, from alarm, to relief, to worry, to anger. And Bowser wore his on his sleeve. For all his self-styling as a dastardly villain, he'd taken quite a shine to the sunny Hylian from the first few moments they adventured together back in 1-1, and her loss drove him close to boiling point. From there, all it took was one snarky snot to bubble him over.

Before anyone could do much of anything, the Koopa King had fixed Sephiroth a heaping knuckle sandwich and express-delivered it to his kisser. As he hurtled backward, Nero groaned. When dealing with a red-eye, he knew what that meant. If the long-haired swordsman thought he would get much out of picking a fight with this group, however, he had another think coming. These people were hurt, confused, and angry—and more than willing to give a smackdown where it was due.

When Sephiroth dove forward to attack, in addition to whatever defensive measure Bowser himself took, he found himself assailed by a storm of gunfire. Blazermate's turret dutifully plugged away at him, but Jak started blasting, Dante riddled him with gunfire, the Doom Slayer let loose some buckshot, Donovan threw a fireball, and even Nero himself took aim. With Color Up, Nero's Blue Rose unleashed two demon-charged revolver rounds that buried into Sephiroth's exposed chest and twisted through his body, changing direction repeatedly as they bore through his flesh. When all was said and done the swordsman could only sink to the ground, riddled with holes, as the gun-deficient Nadia looked on with mouth agape.

“...Think ya got him, guys? Holy meowly...”

Griffon and Shadow approached, regarding the scene with interest. “Hell'd I miss?” the demon bird demanded, chucking a sphere of light V's way.

The mysterious one held the spirit up, seeing the face of Marie inside. A look down confirmed that Shadow found Raidou's. We may be compatible, V reasoned, but what he said was, “The machine is right. There's no telling how long we have until oblivion takes this place. Let us depart for greener pastures.” He did not offer anything more than the suggestion, however. The matter of dealing with Sephiroth lay before them, as did the ultimate decision of Red Team's de-facto leader concerning where he wanted to go.

As it turned out, what Cadet had found was not the hatchery. Really, Ace Cadet could have sworn the path up past that big fountain on the upper decks was the right way, but instead he'd found himself in a completely different place. Could one really blame the hunter for subconsciously letting his nose guide him around though? It wasn't the first time it'd happened and hey - dragging all those gold coins around worked up his appetite. With a clumsy smile Cadet backed out of the guild restaurant, the lingering aroma of finely cooked food following after him.

I least I know where I can bring the rest of the team when they get back, he thought. Surely he wasn't the only one hungry. Hopefully the Princess didn't mind going dutch.

Making his way back to the courtyard, the Cadet scratched the back of his head thoughtfully. If he looked up, among the various tall spires and rooftops in Limsa the hunter could make out what he believed was the hatchery, the only question was how exactly to get there. He glanced around, but there were so many passages and alley ways it was hard to tell, especially with the crowd. The hunter reached to his belt, pulling the small illuminated cage that hung there. Inside, the scoutflies were abuzz, their undersides pulsing in an uneven rhythm.

"No luck, huh?" Cadet said, peering into the cage. It seemed like the bustling city would be too overwhelming for the insects. Much like any hound, they were bred for wilderness hunting, and too many strong scents at once confused them. Even if he forced the scoutflies to try and follow a specific scent here, he didn't know how effective it would be. So long as it wasn't an emergency, he'd let them be.

Now how to go about finding Hat Kid himself? The hunter thought about pushing his way through the densest area of the crowd to see if the pretty purple haired dancer would humor him with some directions, but at about that time a voice reached out to the Cadet from very nearby.

"...?" Cadet clearly heard a voice asking if he needed help, but he didn't see anyo— oh, wait, there was someone! A sort of short and distinctly amphibian-like someone. Cadet blinked at the frogman, pausing for only a moment before he offered a wide smile and quickly tucked the scoutflies back in their rightful place.

"Hey, speak of the Deviljho! I was just thinking about asking around for some directions," Cadet said to Frog. The little warrior's had no need for caution here - despite the Cadet's scaled armor, hammer at his hip, and trio of much larger weapons strapped to his back, the red haired hunter looked friendly and at ease. When Frog's sword did catch the Cadet's eye, it wasn't with suspicion but instead appreciation. Equally so for the gold breastplate the amphibian currently wore.

"I'm looking for a girl, about this tall..." the hunter bent down a little, indicating a short height, but after a moment he raised his hand a little higher. "...with a big hat. Last we knew she was in the Sky Hatchery. If you could point me in that direction that would be rado-cool."

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When the spirit in her hand responded, Primrose could tell instantly. There was a connection between them somehow, warm and solid somewhere at the back of her own soul. Information about the spirit came to her - it's strengths, weaknesses, and of course it's name.

"Hippowdon!" Primrose called the striker's name and it appeared in front of her, staring down the quickly approaching boulders. The sand at the Pokemon's feet swirled upward with some sudden wind, but it's special ability was not why Primrose called it. She shielded her eyes from the sand and raised her voice.

"Bear with the sand," she told the thieves offhandedly, before she made her order of Hippowdon: "Dig us a way out of here!"

The Hippowdon set out a loud rumbling grunt of assent, shifting it's red eyes to where Skull and Kidd were throwing themselves against the stone. With a growl and a "Pow!", the Pokemon turned and used the move it's new 'trainer' commanded.

With a crash and tremendous noise the weighty beast slammed through the wall. Without hesitation Joker threw himself into the team, knocking everyone through the hole to land on the other side in a sandy pile of tangled limbs, surprised but more or less unharmed. The boulder thundered by, but noise from the passage hinted that more would be coming.

After a little struggling the group freed themselves and got to their feet. The chamber they found themselves in was large and rectangular, with a height ceiling, a raised walkway on one side, and two lines of sarcophagi extending down the middle. Mona nodded officiously. “Ah, yes! The binary puzzle, as Oracle called it. I don’t remember the combination, but it shouldn’t be hard to find. Hop to it, Skull!”

The blond boy blinked. “Wha, me? Shouldn’t scurrying around be a critter’s job?”

As the two bickered, Joker made his way over to the line of sarcophagi with blue lights. He thought for a moment, then reached into a pocket. Sorting took some time, as if he was carrying a lot more than the size of his pockets implied he could, but before too long he held a little book in his hand. He flipped through the journal in search of the combination, which he recalled writing down before.

While the thieves got to work, Primrose dusted herself off. She removed her cloak, shaking the fabric out and watching the sand scatter from it. It wasn't the first sandstorm she'd weathered and certainly wouldn't be the last, Pokemon or no. Still, it was much preferable to being crushed under a giant boulder. Hippowdon looked pretty proud of itself too. Despite it's rough looking exterior, the Ground-type creature was oddly endearing when in the flesh.

"Good job," Primrose told the Pokemon, patting it's snout. The Hippowdon grumbled appreciatively.

It seemed the wolfos was alright as well, if not a little shaken up and dusty. The dancer set about running her hands through it's fur, getting it was sand-free as possible while she watched the Phantom Thieves move about and discuss the room.

Binary puzzle... The words meant nothing to Primrose, but what Mona said implied once again that the pyramid was more than just a little familiar to them. She thought back to what Joker had said just before they were faced with the boulder trap - about going through all this before. He'd also said something about a "Metaverse," and this being it. That got Primrose's attention. Did the group know more about this patchwork world than they were letting on?

Grooming finished, Primrose let the wolfos go sniff around the area and recalled Hippowdon, already feeling a drain. With her cloak tucked in her arms, Primrose slunk over to the blonde haired young lady. 'Ann,' if she recalled correctly, but they wanted to stick with code names.

"Panther," Primrose said softly, getting the girl's attention. The dancer would help them find and rescue their lost companion, but she wanted more information: info the thieves seemed to have. "Your friend, they've been trapped here before? Not here in a pyramid..." Primrose let her gaze drag from Panther, moving to where Joker roamed the room. "...Joker called it the Metaverse?"

Having been mostly occupied with filtering the sand out of her pigtails, Panther gave one final shake before turning her attention to the dancer with a smile. It went without saying, perhaps, that the teenager appreciated a female friend in the male-dominated Thieves, and she only hesitated a moment before replying. “Er, yeah. It shouldn’t be a problem talking about it, though to be honest I don’t really understand it myself.” She held up her hands, more as a talking aid than to make any sort of helpful gestures. “It’s a mental world, formed from people’s collective cognition. Things don’t necessarily work as they should in reality, but how people think, so anything’s possible. Changing people’s cognition changes the Metaverse, and so can major distortions.” She crossed her arms, squinting. “Is...this making any sense?”

Primrose very much wanted to reply with a 'yes,' but instead she gave Panther an apologetic little smile.

"A little," she said, "but if this is a world of thoughts, would it mean that it isn't... real?" Primrose felt real. She felt that Ann standing next to her was real as well. Like the Master of Master's crash course earlier, she found the metaverse information to be a bit much to take in at face value.

“Um…” Panther realized she should have thought this through. A cognitive being probably wouldn’t take very well to being told she wasn’t real, after all. “That’s right, yeah. I mean, it’s not the world you came from, right? Or anyone else. Instead it’s a mishmash of everything. Even dreams feel real when you’re in them, right? And we’re here to undo the distortion and set everything back to how it used to be.” She breathed a mental sigh of relief, happy that she thought of a reasonable analogy in time.

The dancer nodded, finding that explanation reasonable for the most part. She couldn't say that her whole experience so far didn't feel as though she were dreaming after all. Although...

Primrose looked back at Panther, her eyes narrowing slightly, thinking. She searched the other girl's face... and found that she was hiding something. Not telling the whole truth, despite saying earlier it was fine to talk about. Primrose was no expert, but a decade of watching people, studying them up close and from a distance, she could tell that much at least. But what? Panther's eyes were clear blue, betraying nothing more than what Primrose already knew: she was keeping something inside.

Primrose smiled. "Yes, if this is all one big, collective dream... those of us that have woken from it want to see it put right and come to an end. Midna, Sectonia, Fox, Tora, Poppi... Myself, you, and your friends."

Something about what Ann said bothered Primrose, but she wasn't sure how to go about getting her answers without accusing the girl of misleading her - and that just wasn't Primrose's style. She watched, seeing if the female thief would give anything away even unknowingly before her comrades were finished with the room's puzzle.

Panther beamed. “Yeah, that’s the spirit! Well, we’re darned glad you’re here.” She watched as Joker moved between the coffins, turning a few of them on using their slabs. “By the way, that move back there, during the All-Out Attack? That was super cool, and really cute! No, maybe I should say ‘elegant.’ I could learn a thing or two from you for my modeling. Hopefully we get a chance.”

“Oh.” She changed the subject pretty quickly, to Primrose’s disappointment. Still, the dancer returned Panther’s smile with grace. “Of course. If we get a chance.”

They wouldn’t have one at the moment, however. At about that time Joker finished the inputs, and sure enough, the walls shook as some kind of hidden mechanism went into overdrive. Heading over to the hole in the wall offered a remarkable sight: a parade of giant boulders rolling down the corridor, one after another. It took just a couple moments for the monolithic procession to clog up the pipeline, then the hallway itself, and the whole thing ground to a halt.

Joker climbed onto the raised walkway, then onto a boulder. From there he could easily lead the way across the parked spheres, jumping from one to the next. Primrose’s borrowed wolfos had no trouble there either, ferrying the woman across.

The door at the far end of the trap hallway led the troupe to an elevator. Though their medieval companion boasted no knowledge of such a mechanism, she didn’t take much coaxing to enter the lift and ascend alongside the Phantom Thieves. Skull, Mona, and Panther looked reasonably excited for a rendezvous with the very palace ruler whose traps and mobs very well could have taken their lives, but the ever-cool Joker looked grim. Primrose glanced at him, thought said nothing.

When the doors of the elevator slid open, they admitted the Thieves into a brightly lit room with raised platforms. The density of green glyphs, codes, and runes achieved a record high here, but the Thieves had eyes only for a figure not so far away from them. She was a slender red-headed girl dressed in regal if strange attire, whose hollow expression and empty red eyes bored into the intruders’ souls. As for Primrose, she hung back observing while the thieves moved toward their friend. Their happiness at being reunited seemed infectious, but there was one person that it didn’t reach. That person held back as well as the others went ahead and greeted the girl.

“Oracle, hey!” Skull greeted enthusiastically, waving with both hands.

Panther skipped forward. “It’s so good to see you!”

Grinning, Mona put his paws on his hips. “Our trusty navigator! You kept us waiting. Huh…?” His words trailed off, and the sunny demeanor of a few Thieves evaporated like morning dew. The girl before them, Oracle, held out her hand signalling them to stop. Her face betrayed no recognition.

“Come no closer,” she told them. “You’ve come to take something that isn’t yours. I won’t allow anyone to disturb my tomb.”

A nervous laugh issued from Skull. “H-hey, cut the act, Futaba. You haven’t forgotten?”

The girl, whatever her name was, said nothing. Panther put a hand on Skull’s shoulder as Mona stepped forward. “She doesn’t. There’s no mistaking it...this is Futaba before we saved her. Just like the pyramid, she...she started over. Can Galeem really do that?” He stared into the electronic ceiling, as if he could sense the lord of light beyond. “Did it not only splice together space, but time?”

Realization crossed Panther’s face, and she looked back. Behind her, Joker was staring at the floor. As she watched he reached up and removed his mask, revealing a face of anguished pain. “Futaba,” he said, his voice low. “Do you really not remember?”

Panther gasped. Skull looked back, clueless, and for both him and Primrose she whispered urgently. “After we rescued her, he took her under his wing. They were close. Really close.” The dancer nodded. So that was what he meant earlier by wishing it wasn't the same as last time they found her. This was an unfortunate turn of events then. Her heart went out to the boy.

Nothing but a blank stare met Joker’s gaze. After a moment longer, he forced himself to look away, and after wiping his eyes he replaced his mask. “I see. So that’s the way it is. But...since this is your Shadow, here in the metaverse, I hope that you’re outside this place. That wherever you are, the time we spent together, taking away your pain, has not been wiped away. And that we’ll be back soon.” He turned, his hands thrust in his pockets, and made to leave.

The room was silent for a few moments after that, until it was broken by an incredulous question.

"That's it?"

Primrose crossed her arms and stared after Joker, her pretty face now painted in a scowl. Now she understood why Joker was so worried the whole time, but she never could have expected that he would just leave the girl here upon discovery that they situation wasn’t ideal.

"You came all this way to find her, and now you have. She's here. She's alive." As she continued to speak, Primrose's voice slowly filled with anger, righteously so. "And you abandon her? Over memories?"

Primrose gripped her arms a little tighter, bottling her emotions up as best she could. She'd felt for Joker and his crew. Missing someone was hard. But their friend was right there. Maybe Primrose couldn't understand their perspective and their thoughts about what this amalgamation world was, but it seemed to her that Joker was running away in the face of one setback.

What Primrose wouldn't give to see Yusufa again. Even now the keepsake from her friend resonated with her inside her bag. She wouldn't care if Yusufa didn't remember a damn thing about her, at least the other girl would be alive again. Primrose's scowl grew a little deeper.

"You can save her again now. Make new memories. Was she not happy knowing you? Don't you want that for her again?"

The Thieves looked between Primrose and their leader. After a moment Joker turned back, his face cold. “You’re misunderstanding.”

He extended a finger. “This is not Futaba Sakura. It’s her Shadow. An embodiment of her repressed negative qualities. This is her loathing, her condemnation, her loneliness and despair, all for herself. This is the part of Futaba that blames herself for the death of her mother, who shut herself away from the outside world, and wishes she had never been born.” His eyes fixed not on the dancer, but on the palace ruler. His words came out more as an accusation than explanation as he scoffed, “Shadow selves torment their human counterparts until their true selves succumb, and the shadows takes their place as dominant to spread their negativity through the world. The darkness within us all, if you will.” Joker sighed, returning his eyes to Primrose, and his hands to his pockets. “The real Futaba is not here. Maybe she’s somewhere else. Hopefully she’s outside in the real world. All that’s here is her wrath.” The woman leveled her stare at Joker, though she kept her lips sealed, letting the boy get his frustration out.

Mona stroked his chin. “Mrrrr...but wasn’t Futaba’s Shadow unusual? Sure, she antagonized us for a while. But during the fight with the Sphinx, which wanted Futaba to kill herself, she confronted the real Futaba and helped her out. Helped her realize the truth.”

Skull looked around angrily. “Do we gotta fight that thing again to save her? Let me at it!”

“Even if it is around, we would need her here in order to regain her will to live,” Mona cautioned. “And that’s assuming she got reset, too. If we find her, she could still be her current self. Galeem stole all sorts of stuff to make this place, right? Maybe it just...randomly picked her Palace?”

Joker considered it for a moment, but responded with a correction. “‘When’ we find her.” Though for a moment he seemed defeated, a look of cool determination had possessed him once again. “Our search isn’t over. We just need to keep looking. Let’s not waste any time.”

Lacking the experience the thieves had with this kind of thing, Primrose wasn't so sure that the red-eyed girl wasn't herself. Was that really so? Galeem conjured two versions of this girl, Futaba, one false and one true? Why? This supposed shadow didn't look very wrathful at the moment, her features clear and blank. While the teenagers talked amongst themselves, Primrose approached her. Slowly, carefully.

"How can you be so sure?" She asked, her question floating in the room for any one of the thieves to answer. "It looks like she is... under control. Forgive my ignorance," she said, voice rather clipped, "but don't you want to free this one and find out? Or if she is a 'shadow' as you say, take her spirit with us to your true friend?" Leaving the girl alone in the pyramid didn't sit well with Primrose, even if what the thieves said was true. If these were the worst qualities of their friend, were they not still apart of her in the end?

Panther shook her head. “From what we’ve seen, Galeem doesn’t change personalities. So freeing the Shadow wouldn’t do anything. And if the Shadow dies, so does the real person. We can’t risk it.” She crossed her arms. “That said, with how this Metaverse seems to work, anyone could just barge in here and take her down. We can’t let that happen either.”

With raised brows Mona glanced back at the ruler. “So...what? Are going to try hearting her? Or just...steal her?”

“Guess we don’t have a choice.” Joker moved forward. “You.” He held out his hand. A Friend Heart formed above it. “You want what’s best for Futaba, don’t you? You wanted us out because you thought we would only hurt her more. But in the end we put an end to her distortion and help her live again. Would you like to find your true self with us?”

The ruler blinked a couple times, thinking. She looked deeply into the faces of those assembled, mask or no, as if she could read them one bit at a time. “It is true that we’ve lost each other. I haven’t spoken to her in some time. Perhaps...she stopped needing me? And she’s grasped the truth…” She crossed her arms. “If that is the case, I want to see her for myself. And if I’m here, of course, her Persona is not by her side.”

Mona nodded sagaciously. “Yes, that’s right...Oracle couldn’t possibly have Necronomicon if you’re here, in this form.” He came to a decision, and boldly clapped his paws together. “Well, what’s one more shadow? Don’t you worry, not-Futaba! We’ll take you to see your true self, and figure things out together.”

Laughing, Panther said, “We can’t exactly call her ‘Not-Futaba’, sushi brain. We oughta think of something else.”

“Ooh, how about that codename she used before?” Skull chimed in.

“Alibaba.” Joker remembered. “The man who confounded forty thieves. And in Japanese, a play on Futaba’s own name.” He sought confirmation from the Shadow. “What do you think? The name, and our proposal.”

“I’ll accept them,” the girl declared, and with a final push she accepted Joker’s hand, as well as the Friend Heart. Somehow, despite suffering no external wounds, the ruler absorbed the heart without issue. Her eyes turned from sunset-red to glowing gold. “Hmm...something feels different. Better? Hm. I think so. Our deal is paying off already.”

The Thieves cheered. “Alright, one step closer to bringin’ everyone back together!” Skull exulted.

While the others prepared to leave, Mona tugged at Primrose. “After what just happened, I can’t believe we were just gonna walk right out of here. You pushed the right buttons just then, even if you didn’t know how things worked.”

The dancer was relieved to see the girl freed and willing to come along. Her tension dropped, and she looked down at Mona, giving the cat a much more friendly face compared to the one she'd been giving the thieves' leader just moments ago.

"Well. Glad to help, I suppose." She looked back at Futaba - or Alibaba, as it were. She knew looks could be deceiving, but the girl didn't seem nearly as bad as Joker made her out to be. If she'd left the shadow behind, it wouldn't have stopped bothering her. She hoped that the two Futabas could reunite soon. Primrose smiled to herself a little, her next words soft and teasing. "Mission succeeded, for now, hm? After we return to Naboris and you all continue your search, don't be afraid to reach out for help next time."

Mona put his oversized head to work giving her the old north-south, as it were. “Fair enough. We’ve been through a lot, but there’s lots more to go. Only an idiot stops learning.” With their new member in tow, the group made their way onward. A route on the other side of the chamber led to the pyramid exterior, dazzling the Thieves with sunlight as they stepped out into the open air. From up here, taller even than Vah Naboris, they could not only see the Divine Beast waiting for them at the base of the pyramid, but across the desert to the north. “Whoa!” Mona gasped. “Across the dunes There’s...some sort of giant wall. Pieces of a bridge. Ruins on the other side. Then...I can’t see.” The breathtaking sight only compounded the sense of tininess the heroes felt earlier.

Alibaba, too, felt very small. She saw for the first time the colossal, foreboding mountain looming many miles away like an uncertain future. Yet for all its frightening grandeur, the peak of the mountain seemed bright indeed.

Skull peered down over the edge. “Hey, it’s smooth! We can slide the whole way down. And man, it’ll be nice not running for our lives this time.” He jumped over the edge and began to accelerate. “Wooooooooo!” It looked like such fun that his friends could scarcely avoid following suit. At the top three remained: Alibaba, Primrose, and the wolfos. With a nudge the beast jumped, sliding down after the thieves, eager to return to it's true master.

Primrose laid a gentle hand on Alibaba's shoulder. "Are you scared?" she asked.

"No," Alibaba said with a small shake of her head.

"Good." Primrose donned her beige cloak once more, and the two girls leapt, sliding down the ancient tomb to join the rest of the group.

---

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Sephiroth fell to a single knee, the point of his sword grinding against the cracked stone below as he struggled to keep hold of the hilt, his gloved fingers wrapping around it tightly. It was truly the most angry he'd been since his first defeat at the hands of Cloud, as even then the bastard had the element of surprise on his side, whereas this was a face-to-face confrontation. He hadn't been a victim of distraction or stealth like the last time, no, he'd been the one to charge in! He'd been the one to engage this ragtag group with the full extent of his speed and might! So how then, had they been able to overpower him? Sephiroth knew he should have been able to kill the shelled beast given how quickly he'd lashed out at him, yet even that effort had failed.

Is... is it truly possible that these pathetic beings are capable of more than groveling in the dirt from whence they came?

Sephiroth grimaced as he fought for his next breath, the slightest of movements setting his insides aflame.

No, no that can't be why. Something must... something must be wrong with me. But what? And how?

Although he did not show it, these questions pained Sephiroth more than any bullet, blade, or spell ever could.

Sakura realised too late she had underestimated the wounded Abyssal. Not only was she not staying down- she was standing up just fine. Even though she hadn't missed the fireball, if she hadn't shot it at all and turned to retreat, she would have been blown away. Just like Araisho. Sakura surged forward despite this, hoping to close the distance. That shell smacked her arm, hard, and she felt something disconnect. A yellow spark of energy confirmed her Ki was still working. Whatever just happened in her arm, she could deal with it later. In the meantime, she would still fight at near full capacity.

And fight she did. The melee was a brutal brawl. Geralt helped, but Sakura didn't register it. One of Sakura's new cat ears was cut and began to bleed. Her Ki, it seemed, wasn't used to channeling through that part of her body. The cut was fairly deep, that part of her left cat ear would be missing from now on.

Sakura got a few good hits in, but overcommitted with the sweep. As she finished her spin, her eyes widened as the Shipgirl bid her adieu. "NO!" She cried out. Sakura tried to defend herself, but the bomber went under her arms and directly onto her midriff, where it detonated.

There was a flash of red hot pain, and everyting burned white. "EEYAAAH!" She screamed. Sakura went flying 20 feet backwards, hit the water, skimmed, and then began to writhe. Her senses had failed her entirely. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her teeth grit. She scrambled to her feet and then stumbled back to her knees, and then back to her feet. It was a far cry from her previously expert maneuvers. Sakura was Stunned. Her Ki had mostly protected her, but it had been overwhelmed by sheer damage and short circuited her nervous system.

"Guhhh...!" She moaned.

Four seconds passed. The stun faded, and Sakura snapped back to reality with a gasp. Falling to her hands and knees she began to cough.

It was a wet, miserable retch. Blood sprayed onto the water and trickled down the side of her lips. The teenager brought a shaking hand up to her mouth, it came away red. The skin of her abdomen was charred and cut, but most of the damage was internal. There was a deep numbness in her belly, and her ears were ringing.

Eyes wide, heart racing, Sakura sat up straight and stared at the Abyssal. "Y...you b-blew us both u-up?" She asked in disbelief. "WHY!?" Sakura shouted. She spat up more blood. A calm part of Sakura's mind guessed her guts were bruised to high heaven.

She just didn't understand. She couldn't understand!

Sakura thought of Kamek's words. "She won’t retreat! She can’t! That is Galeem’s curse!”

(Is this the sickening evil of Galeem's curse? The Ship Girls knew when to retreat! They care for each other! This Seaplane Tender is insane! She acts with reckless hatred. But... maybe it's all Galeem's fault... How can I tell? How much is Galeem? How much is the Seaplane Tender? She takes pride in her ability to kill shipgirls, doesn't she? Was that Galeem? Or was she just a soldier? Why did Galeem organize these wars? Couldn't it have just left the World of Light a peaceful one? Does it matter if she's evil or not, if her actions aren't hers to control!? I don't know!)

Sakura slammed her palms onto her temples. These questions made her head hurt. Or maybe she just had a concussion. Sakura rose to her feet with a quickness someone as wounded as her wouldn't normally be able to manage. She was scared, confused, and...angry. There was an anger that pained her heart and itched at her skull. She wanted to lash out. But she didn't. Her thoughts, briefly, turned introspective.

She knew Ryu had grappled with an internal darkness. The fighting style they shared, Shotokan, is based on an ancient assassination fighting style. It used to be energized by murderous intent, known as the Satsui no Hado. Gouken, Ryu and Ken's master, refined the art. He changed it, and instead changed the source of energy to willpower. An 11 year old Sakura had known nothing of this when she began copying Ryu's moves by watching him on VHS tapes. Unknowingly, she had inherited this internal stuggle of good and evil. And Sakura was determined to not let herself, or Ryu down.

Sakura exhaled shakily as she rose to her feet. Approaching the broken Ship Girl, she raised her left arm, clenched her fist, and hissed. It hurt. But Ki allowed her to work just fine with what she had. She stopped holding her arm. Despite her injuries and the pain, she seemed to be operating at near full strength. Powerful energy coursed through her body, one more resilient than mere flesh and bone. These injuries and their consequences could be dealt with later.

(Galeem's curse...Galeem's curse. The true enemy is Galeem. That's the truth of this world. I want it gone.)

Sakura looked over the ship girl. Unlike last time, she wasn't getting up, or taking aim. She remained half-submered, and her eyes were unfocused. It looked like she was dying, really. Sakura exhaled. Self control. Self control was key. That was what it meant to be a practictioner of Shotokan. Moreover, what it meant to be a good guy.

"I'm gonna show you mercy, now." Sakura said. She brought a hand up to her heart and raised her arms. A pink heart-shape emerged from her chest and Sakura held it gingerly in her red fighting gloves. "Because I know that you don't want to be here, either. Even if you don't know it. With this, you'll be able to give up and go home. And in your state, I don't think you'll be winning any fights." Sakura noted. She gave a small smile. She felt good about this.

Sakura closed the final bit of distance. She put a foot down, hard, on the Abyssal's good arm. She reached down and plunged the Friend Heart into the Abyssal's chest. "Whatever happens next, I'm not gonna let Galeem get another person killed." Sakura declared. She pulled on the Abyssal's shoulders so that she wouldn't sink and drown.

Assuming all of this went as Sakura hoped it would and nothing interrupted her, she would take a few steps back and take a knee. It was her most defensive stance. She used her newly lengthened sleeves to wipe the blood from her lips, staining her altered sailor uniform. Her cat ears perked up expectantly. The one on the left still leaked blood, and was less receptive and lively than the other one. It was made sluggish by the deep cut, and liquid soaked into her brown hair.

If the Abyssal came to her senses the first thing she would see would be the kneeling, noticeably damaged feline ship girl, a friendly, battle-weary smile on her face.

Shifting his hand away from the pommel of Masamune, Frog placed a gloved hand on his hip and looked skyward then further inland before turning his gaze back to the redheaded warrior with a sigh "Unfortunately I hath neither seen nor heard wind of dost friend wending thine way through these lands" the other gloved hand scratches at his head. "I'm called Frog," he said solemnly then extended his gloved hand for the redheaded warrior to shake "I may be able to assist thee to thy Hatchery as I knoweth thine lands well!" Frog suggested confidently nodding to the odd weapons upon the warriors back "Also who art thou?" he asked the warrior as he straightened the golden buckler upon his wrist and inspecting any imperfections in it's metal in order to grasp what equipment needed polishing or cleaning.

Once again Heavy had pulled his weight and helped the best team to victory. In jubliation and great satisfaction as he stood upon the ginourmous mechanical camel, Heavy once again raised his fist into a victory pose and did a little dance, quite surreal considering the brutish nature of this huge mercenary. He wasn't just celebrating for himself, however. To all his new comrades - and old ones from not-so RED and BLU team - Heavy gave a wide smile and open arms for anyone who would have wanted to hug the Russian bear. The only one who approached him was tiny, fury Tora, who gave him a well-deserved High-Five just like his American comrades liked to do. "Da! New friends to squash enemy like bug! No offense, Tzarinna Sectonia!" Heavy cheered on after Tora, giving the bug-queen a quick look of sincerity, not intending to actually squash the bug-queen like a bug. Really.

Heavy gave a confused look as his new and strange comrades started speaking of doing…something, which they weren't susceptible for? Rubbing his bald head in deep thought, Heavy didn't understand what they were going on about, only comprehending the fact that some other unknown comrades were fighting in a pyramid. Heavy gave a questioning look to Medic at his side, hoping for answers, when another tiny creature spoke up to the group.

Another member of the nobility, so it would seem. Strangely coloured skin, a prominent nose and long firery hair underneath an overly elaborate crown, calling herself Midna the Twillight Princess. The princess of midnight…twillight…something something questioned who this motley crew of mercenaries were and what they wanted out of fighting their fight. Before Heavy got the chance to introduce himself - AGAIN - Medic stepped forth and made it clear who he was, speaking in his funny German accent. The doctor was the only German Heavy actually knew, but then again Medic was also his best friend. He didn't always understand everything the German mad-man said, like how he didn't quite catch Medic's motivations, but he didn't care. To him the answer was obvious enough.

"I agree with my Doktor, we need to find our comrades! Also payment is good, and hats! Heavy wants one, two, no THREE hats! Yes, that would be good…" Heavy excitedly pumped himself up, beginning to even jump a little up and down in joy at the thought of recieving the priceless rewards of proper HATS. But he was getting ahead of himself, and straightened himself up as the introductions continued. "I am Heavy Weapons Guy, like I say before we fight former comrads of RED and BLU. This is Sasha, my weapon. Some people think they can outsmart me. Maybe…" Heavy presented himself, holding up the minigun for everyone to see, halting at the end to sniff at the thought of people making a mockery of him. "…maybe. I have yet to meet one that can outsmart bullet. Oh! Do not forget Sandvich!"

Heavy seemingly pulled another Sandvich out of his pocket, as if he hadn't already eaten one earlier in the battle, this one just as moist and fresh as the previous one. He is a loose cannon, but a damn good cop! Yes, Tzarrina Sectonia, is with tomato too; Bread, cheese, lettuce, tomato, ham and bologna, with olive on stick. Very good! You want? Heavy, Medic and Sandvich ready to break more skulls in pyramid!"

Bowser’s punch clipped the anime boy, sending him tumbling, only for him to right himself and retaliate in the blink of an eye, drawing an absurdly long blade and soaring across the ground towards the King. Bowser instinctively brought up his arms in a boxer’s guard, dinky mecha mit shield deploying to try and block the blow. Yet it never came.

A hail of fire withered the man, demonic blasts, fireballs, energy blasts and mundane bullets coming at him in a torrent. The sound was deafening. When it finally died down Browser spread two fingers to peek through his guard and found Setheroth had been knocked down and yet, amazingly, his form remained among the living. Slowly he lowered his guard back down, his heart still hammering in his chest.

”SEE WHAT I MEAN?” He told Setheroth, dramatically spreading his arms out as if this had all been intentional rather than him impulsively lashing out without thinking about the consequences, before coughing and much more quietly and incredibly begrudgingly saying ”Thanks” to the multitude of heroes who had probably just saved his neck.

He approached the man, who was still trying to rise and felt a brief pang of sympathy, because though the man’s face didn’t show it, Bowser had been where Setheroth was now more times than he could count and he could guess how he was feeling. ”You get used to it,” He told him quietly, before summoning a friend heart ”THIS’LL CLEAR YOUR HEAD, YOU GET ONE SHOT AT NOT BEING AN IDIOT AFTER, SO LISTEN UP AND DON’T SCREW THIS UP” he told the man, before flicking it towards him from a safe distance.

”ALRIGHT. HERE’S THE DEAL. THAT” He pointed up at the ’sun’ ”IS GALEEM. IT’S A BIG BAUBLE WITH WINGS THAT RIPPED REALITY APART AND STITCHED IT BACK TOGETHER HOWEVER IT WANTED AND THEN STOPPED YOU NOTICING ANYTHING WAS WRONG WITH THE MESS IT'S MADE. IT ALSO MADE IT SO YOU’D TREAT EVERY FIGHT LIKE A FIGHT TO THE DEATH. BUT YOUR FREE NOW. SO PUT THE SWORD AWAY AND WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS. OR DON’T, AND SEE WHERE IT GETS YOU”

”ALSO THERE’S SPIRITS AND STUFF, BUT ALL THAT MATTERS RIGHT NOW IS YOU ADMIT DEFEAT, AND THEN HELP PUT GALEEM DOWN SO WE CAN FIX THIS MESS AND CAN ALL GO HOME. OR YOU CAN GO BACK TO WHATEVER YOU WHERE DOING WANDERING THIS TRASH HEAP OF A CITY IF YOU WANT, BUT SEEING AS THIS PLACE MIGHT BE ABOUT TO GO BOOM, THAT'S PROBABLY A STUPID IDEA” Bowser concluded, before glancing back at the teleporter, checking if it was done. In doing so he caught sight of something he wasn’t expecting to see.

Marie’s Spirit, held in the palm of V's hand.

”YOU FOUND HER!?” They’d been wrong, the girl hadn’t been devoured by the heart after all, which was a massive relief. On the other hand she was also dead now thanks to them. That was still better than being for her than being the skullgirl, or so Bowser hoped.

There was one way to find out of course.

Bowser stomped his way over to V and then wordlessly took the girl’s Spirit from him and then moved a short distance away from the red team.

”Hey kid. Sorry it ended up like this. Look, I know this place isn’t the best, but do ya wanna stick around for a bit? So I can make it up to you, and we can get back at that wretched heart together? Because trust me, no matter what that smug hooded jerk wants, this isn't over,” The king spoke softly to Marie’s spirit, before glancing back at the team and pointing a finger at the teleporter ”QUIT JUST STANDING AROUND! START GETTING OUT OF HERE BEFORE WE ALL GET BLOW TO STARBITS”

---

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---

Sephiroth flinched as the heart entered his body, freeing his mind from the shackles of anger and rage that it had become ensnared in. It was as though a great fog had been lifted, a weight removed, and destiny shrugged all at once. But it was nothing compared to the emotion that sheer hate and disgust that welled up within his spirit upon hearing mention of Galeem's name. Turning his gaze towards the sun and sky, Sephiroth's catlike eyes narrowed into thin slits as an expression of pure disgust worked its way onto his face for the first time ever. It wasn't just because of what the dragon had said either—for his remark to stay down hadn't gone unnoticed, merely ignored in favor of the larger truth—rather it was because of the memories that came flooding back at the utterance of his message that caused Sephiroth to become filled with hate. Memories of a victory so close he could taste it being ripped away in the blink of an eye and a surge of light.

"Galeem..."

Sephiroth grit his teeth as he got to his feet, ignoring the pain coursing through his body by focusing on his recently returned memories instead, piecing them together one by one until he had a clear picture of the events that led him here. Well, as clear of one as he could get anyway. He still didn't know why Galeem was doing any of this, nor did he have any real estimation of his power other than the very obvious and infuriating fact that it totally eclipsed his own.

Still, he not only had a name but a cause to put with it too.

"I'm going to kill him," Sephiroth said simply, resting the majority of his weight against his downturned sword. There was no hint of emotion to be found in his voice nor trace of expression to mar his face, there was only an eerie sense of calm, as though he had stated a well-known fact rather than a vainglorious threat, taunt, or boast. His unnaturally calm and collected demeanor made it seem as though his statement was about something he would inevitably do, rather than something he merely wished to do, and thus ended up lingering in the air between them unnervingly as a result.

Smirking, he turned his gaze upon the small hodgepodge of people assembled before him, seeing them—truly seeing them—for the first time since they'd met. They were not his equals of course, not by a longshot, but they were the best shot he had at getting revenge on his celestial foe. As such he would suffer them to be his allies, at least for the time being.

"But first I'm going to need one of you to heal me."

@Archmage MC, @Dawnrider, and @DracoLunaris

As it turned out, Fox and company had a good deal more support than he anticipated, for every outspoken defector risked throwing their lot in with Yellow Team rather than taking the Administrator’s obvious bait of cyclical immortality. The Heavy, despite being the last in line behind them, was the first to fall in, with gusto. Thankfully, they weren’t trying too hard for stealth, for among other things, the boisterous giant’s enthusiastic beckoning to their foes made that an impossibility. With a satisfied smirk at the fortuitous turnout, Fox nodded Heavy over, setting him up to bat. Heavy and his comrades let fly in trade with the opposition while the two he knew fanned out on Fox’s order. The Russian then looked to him for a plan he didn’t exactly have, but he had enough of an idea to provide him with a simple directive.

“Just keep it up! Make for the camel and cover their exit.” Not long after the skirmish commenced, the dust storm he requested began rolling in, with Naboris in tow. “I’ll be right behind you,” he said almost inaudibly--mostly to himself--before splitting off to make his move. With Heavy’s suppressive fire, Braum’s mobile cover, the combined abilities of everyone else, and of course, Midna backing them with a Divine Beast, he trusted his team to have things figured out in his momentary absence.

---

“Not dead yet,” declared the freshly resurrected Soldier with a sigh as he hurriedly exited the BLU spawn point. He sprinted out into the dark tan, low-category ‘fog of war’ of buffeting sands rendered suddenly into being by means that eluded him, forcing him to rely mostly on his memory for field layout and ally/enemy placement. Not that this proved much of an issue for him, for that was the benefit of reviving mid-battle; it gave you the chance to learn, adjust your approach, and try again. By now he had done enough of it to know plenty of ways to flank the either enemy teams, which he aimed to do starting with Yellow, being the critical priority amongst them. As he would soon find out, however, one of theirs had a similar idea.

As he rounded the second or third corner on his path, the Soldier was blindsided by the Fox from earlier, booting down his rifle before he could raise it in response and staggering him with four more whirling kicks to his chest, sides and head to follow. He lifted his gun to shield himself from the running straight kick that came next, redirecting it past him, then drove the butt of the rifle into Fox’s cheek. Soldier held firm, driving Fox back as he attempted to face the bore to his head while Fox struggled in kind to prevent the same. The deadlock ended after a few seconds when Fox gained a hand in leverage to throw the gun out of their hands and away from both of them, whereupon he drew his sidearm, pressed its lens to Soldier’s abdomen, and drilled into him with rapid fire.

“AAargh!” he cried sharply as focused red light burned through him, frustratedly swatting aside the sidearm on reflex. He retaliated with a solid headbutt, which may or may not have hurt worse with a snout than a humanoid nose, anchoring the vulpine to him by his wrist to make sure he connected. He used the momentary opening it left him to sling Fox around by the arm with one hand while driving his head into the wall with the other. Fox responded with a reverse knee stomp to drop Soldier down a height onto another point, loosening his hold enough to take a propelling step off the wall and come down onto the back of his head with an overhead tornado kick.

The grappling knee strikes from Fox to follow, aimed for Soldier’s head, met only defending palms, having recovered in time to raise his guard against the aggressive vulpine. He caught him by his leg on the third strike and lifted up as he rose from his forced kneel with intent to put Fox on his back only for him to counter by throwing himself into backflip to break the grapple and end up back on his feet, catching Soldier by the chin with the toe of his boot for his trouble. As he moved back in on the stumbling Soldier, Fox caught a glancing backfist to his jaw, but ducked with the hit, spun low, and kept moving, throwing a flying knee into his chest that pinned him back against the wall. When he extended to hit him with a side kick to the abdomen and face each, Soldier once again guarded and caught the second, but this time went forward instead of up with a right cross to take Fox down.

The differences in their styles and approach to hand-to-hand combat became evident after only a few moments of trading blows. The Soldier’s way was that of an older man--well-worn warrior--long-lived in a profession that often got younger men killed. Simpler, efficient, and brutal when necessary. No tricks; just results. Fox, conversely, fought like a younger man with bold, energetic tenacity, but with a sense of focus, awareness, and composure afforded by experience. This much they both seemed to have in common to differing degrees, and they were both starting to realize that--that neither of them were dealing with just some common merc/vigilante upstart.

Both combatants went to the ground, Fox catching the Soldier on his free foot, sprang him and himself upward, and sent him away with a parting kick to the sternum. Soldier rolled with the hit, literally, as he recovered his weapon and had it immediately trained on Fox the second he rose to a crouch and began opening fire. Realizing this, Fox doubled back to retrieve his blaster, suffering piercing shots through the back of his calf, thigh, ribcage and clavicle that caused him to stumble into a dive for his weapon. While inverted, he squeezed off a single impact shot that grazed the Soldier’s temple, missing him by the thick of his brow and knocking his mask loose, as he scrambled for the nearest cover.

Morrison fell back as well, deploying a Biotic Field at his feet to self-restore with the moment granted to him to do so, re-donning his mask in that time. He would not, however, allow his foe the same luxury of respite or recovery; to nurse his wounds or otherwise. With his Tactical Visor engaged, he let fly a triad of Helix Rockets at the cover he knew Fox took, obliterating it almost entirely and forcing him out into the open.

Fox instinctively threw up his Reflector to return every round of aim-assisted heavy pulse fire that came his way, prodding Soldier into a momentary ceasefire to prevent further self-harm. Fox then took advantage of the gap in his opponent’s offense to rapidly close the distance between them, split-second blitzing past the strafing gunman in a phantasmal blur to deliver a sailing roundhouse kick to his chest that sent him flying back against the door of the nearby building. He chased him with another dash, not intent on allowing him room to breathe, as he connected a straight flying kick to his torso that buckled the door inward behind him before the explosive burst that followed blew it open completely.

Both combatants fell prone into the room as the door violently came loose from its hinges, a light shower of rubble breaking off from where they used to be. Fox was first to rise of the two, after drawing his sidearm from prone and training it on the opening to ensure that the coast was clear, in case any more hostiles managed to find and decide to follow them in. He hovered his free hand over his chest to pull a Heart, tossed it onto the semi-conscious Soldier, and waited for it to take full effect while he clutched his bullet-wounded shoulder. Groaning, the Soldier soon came to, all of his color and part of his vitality returned to him, but short on clue or memory to make sense of his surroundings or situation.

“What happened? Where the hell am I?” he asked, mostly to himself, as he sat up and began surveying the area, trying his best to piece together some kind of valid assessment.

“I don’t know,” said the only other person in the room as he moved to pick up Soldier’s gun for him, “but we can’t stay.” Fox handed him his weapon back by the safe end, trusting (or moreso hoping) that he wouldn’t try to turn it on him this time. “Our ride’s about to leave without us. If we hurry we can still catch them.”

“And you are...?” the Soldier scoffed, rising to his feet with a hand on one of his sides.

“Here to help,” Fox replied in short.

“Hmph. You’ve got a funny way of doing it,” he remarked on his cumulative observations about what had transpired, concluding that he had just gotten out of a fight with someone and having no one else to look at. “Forgive me for not taking you on your word.”

“I don’t have time to explain,” he affirmed calmly. “All I can say is you’re better off getting out of here with us than staying to fight whoever’s left.” Without delving into specifics, that much went largely without saying. “We’ve done all we can here for now.”

“Well, I hope you have something more for me to go on if you plan on putting a gun back in my hand.” Fox took his meaning in that he may otherwise regret doing so. Lacking for a better answer, he simply shook his head and gave him his best point of rationale he could pull on the spot.

“Just that I’ve been where you are, and we’re both still alive.” It made sense enough as basic reasoning went. Either of them could have just as easily been dead by now. Though, it wasn't difficult to tell that the Soldier wasn’t entirely convinced. He did notice however that a line of blood was dripping out of Fox’s sleeve and down his forearm. As if conceding the matter, he reclaimed his weapon from Fox and drew a small yellow cylinder from his vest.

“Here,” he said, planting it at both of their feet to activate the radial healing field that seemed to almost miraculously sew up their injuries. “Heal up, then get out of here,” he commanded softly (as much as his gruff bearing allowed for anyway) as he approached the building’s exit.

Fox nodded, and began, “We make for the Southern border. Evac’s just outside of the compound. You can’t miss it-”

“I’m not coming.” Fox went silent with the abrupt declaration, needing not ask ‘why’, for a vague explanation would be handed out freely. “I appreciate the ‘help’, and the offer,” the latter he sounded a touch more sincere about, “but I’ve got my own way of doing things… and I’ve got to do them alone.” These two sentiments in particular resonated with Fox, as he has said and done both of them before. Even without knowing, he somehow understood. He thus made no effort to stop him or change his mind as he took his parting steps out, and as soon as the Biotic Field generator burned out, Fox would be right behind in doing the same.

---

In a full sprint, Fox made it back to Naboris in the midst of its heated getaway. He leapt onto the ramp leading in as the Beast began to rise, managing to board just as it was about to climb out of his reach. This made him the last passenger to come aboard on their continued journey as they made their way onward. Once they were clear on their escape, he made his way to Naboris’ helm, stone-facedly marching past the others as he conducted his own head count in passing, neglecting in his wake to answer Tora in so doing. Midna accounted, without being asked, for the missing Primrose, and had already set course for the pyramid where she departed to.

Despite the clear influx of new recruits on-board that marked a clear net gain for the party, Fox couldn’t help feeling like he came away partly empty-handed on his end. He went out of his way to free the Spirit of one who struck him as being among the more important figures among the REDs and BLUs, enacting his plan to set the example he told Midna he would, and now he wouldn’t know if he made the wise choice or if it would in any way pay off. Perhaps the best he could hope for in that case was to have planted a seed of rebellion against the presumably omnipotent; that the chain of Spiritual emancipation and resurrection would not end there. Regardless, it would do him no good to dwell on it with no way of knowing for sure. He would just have to believe.

Well... This was the fastest friend heart Blazermate had seen yet. Well besides Sectonia who was friend heartable right away, but Bowser was on top of this one! "Aw, I was going to do that! Having handsome Anime boy on our side is awesome though! Do you know what Anime is?" Blazermate said, half teasing bowser, half teasing Sephiroth, and just pointing out the situation at large. With Sephiroth being friend hearted after getting smacked down by a hail of damage from multiple sources, Blazermate's sentry gun no longer saw him as an enemy and began to beep as it searched for new enemies.

From the way Bowser sounded while friend hearting Sephiroth, it seemed like Bowser knew where this anime boy had been as if Bowser himself had been in that place a long time ago. Although Blazermate could only guess this, Bowser was all over the place today after having to fight Marie. Speaking of Marie, Blazermate had also been wrong about Marie's spirit being eaten by the Skull Heart, it apparently had just been under rubble this whole time. And to think that was the big deciding factor for Blazermate to not take the skull heart for herself. The medabot sighed a bit thinking about this, saying "Bullet dodged" when looking at the Marie spirit in Bowser's hands. When some of the team members glanced over her way, Blazermate hastily said. "Oh hey, Marie didn't get eaten after all! Guess I was wrong. Thats good."

Sephiroth, getting up from being beaten up and then friend hearted, took in the information Bowser told him as he was friend hearting the anime boy. A man of very little words, Sephiroth only really stated that he was going to kill Galeem. At least, until he asked for help with his wounds which Blazermate readily replied to with her healing beam. "Whats your name, new buddy? Like I've been saying, you look straight out of an anime, so I hope it isn't something like 'dark swordsman'." Blazermate said, trying to strike up some conversation with Sephiroth as she healed him, the teleporter fully online and being upgraded as Bowser commanded for people to head through it. "Oh, but I guess this isn't the best time to talk about anime and stuff with a nuke about to go off. You'd best come through the teleporter with the rest of us."

With Sephiroth being mostly healed and many of the others going through the teleproter, Blazermate stepped through it, the other side of the teleporter leading to the Smash Tower that they had departed from before. Once everyone made it there, Blazermate asked. "So... Do we just go to another zone while we wait for the dead zone to explode?"

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Sephiroth's brow furrowed ever so slightly in confusion, mainly at the machine's question. It brought up anime, asking if he knew it, yet once more to his chagrin he did not. Was it some manner of technique? A weapon? Then again from the way she talked about it, the word seemed to be more of a reference to something, which at this point he assumed was some sort of simple entertainment. Thankfully he didn't need to bother with that pointless subject for too long, as soon it was asking him if he had a name, though still it insisted on referencing that damned 'anime' thing yet again. Meanwhile he was standing here with most of his insides having become outsides, his organs slowly liquifying, and his strength swiftly failing him, until the robot emitted some manner of healing energy that managed to mend the majority of his wounds anyway. Sure he probably still had some internal damage somewhere or other, as he doubted the machine was that good of a field medic, but he could handle that for the time being. At least until he got some healing Materia or the opportunity to heal himself properly later on.

What the machine did have, thankfully, was a keen awareness of the gravity of the situation they were apparently in. From what he gathered these people needed to leave the area, sooner rather than later preferably, and as fast as they possibly could. For what reason exactly he couldn't really say, but as the machine itself had stated, this was hardly the time for chit-chat. Deciding it was best he followed, Sephiroth raised his Masamune on high to slide it back into its sheath, striding towards the teleporter as the blade's guard met the scabbard with a soft 'click.' Stepping onto the center of the small machine Sephiroth found himself whisked away to some unfamiliar place along with the others and, figuring it would be best to get introductions over with now, decided to simply interrupt the talkative medibot.

"You asked me my name," he said, turning his gaze upon Blazermate with the slightest hint of smile followed by a pause to make sure he had everyone's attention.

Once he was certain of that, he continued.

"It's Sephiroth."

Ranger was...not as gentle depositing Geralt on the Atomos as he would've liked, but it was faster than swimming. He could see the result of his somewhat-desperate attack on the Abyssal Princess as he was bodily dragged away by the Shipgirl, and he was satisfied with at least providing a bit of a distraction. He could see a spray of blood from Sakura's...new ears??? (This Spirit nonsense always had some strange results.) He could see Sakura's elbow drive the air from her opponent's lungs.

And he saw Seaplane Tender slam a bomb directly into Sakura's gut, the explosion throwing smoke and debris into the air and blocking his line of sight. Enhanced as his vision might be, he couldn't see through smoke. His grip on the rail of the ship left him white-knuckled as he watched and waited for some sign of Sakura's fate. His eyes narrowed to vertical slits, blocking out as much of the light reflecting off the ocean as possible while he searched for movement. It was a few seconds before he saw a form rise in the smoke, and after another moment enough cleared that he could see Sakura, shakily rising to her feet on the water.

A breath he didn't know he was holding exploded from his mouth, and he almost let himself lean against the railing in relief. The sight of Seaplane Tender, still alive and floating atop the water, stopped him. He cursed silently to himself. These things just refused to go down! And knowing Sakura, she didn't have it in her to finish off a wounded opponent like that. She'd wait until it got yet another chance to hit her while her guard was down.

This girl... Geralt thought. Well, if you're gonna try and save her like this is some fairy story, now's the time to do it. Sakura, meanwhile, had her hands on her temples and was trying to get back up, haven fallen over to presumably hack up half her lung.

The Abyssal hadn't moved at all in that time. It was agonizing to watch, knowing he could only watch from afar. This wasn't even like letting Ciri talk to the Lodge of Sorceresses or fight the Crones. He could at least know that the Lodge wouldn't flay her alive, and he was a little busy killing Imlerith to worry much about the girl with Phenomenal Cosmic Power fighting a few overweight alchemists.

But this? He was forced to watch as the battle played out-

And Sakura just gave the Abyssal Princess a Friend Heart.

The death of him.

He turned, cursing under his breath, and remembered that Kamek was still there, watching the fight, as well as assisting with his little copies.

"She's insane." He spat, walking past and back into the vehicle proper, with Bowser Jr inside. "She gave the evil, murderous Abyssal monster Shipgirl a fucking Heart, kid. Galeem or not...I don't know. I don't trust it. I can't keep watching." Left unsaid was that he couldn't watch another friend be killed. Worse still that it wasn't long since he'd put his own friend, Dijkstra, down for his power play at ruling Redania.

After the fragmented masses of the library ruin settled back to the Earth following Marie’s defeat, Banjo and Kazooie drifted down gently onto solid ground, having Sprang from their footing beforehand, carried on Kazooie’s wings to slow their descent. The final root, having been irrevocably bound to Marie (unbeknownst to her, and much to her misfortune), fell to ash with her destruction. The duo observed as much when looking about as Banjo’s feet gently met terra firma once more, but with further observation, they could see that they weren’t finished here. Banjo began walking towards Nadia and the Skull Heart she had sought, halting at her gestured command, then watched and waited patiently, cautiously, while she underwent her moment of repeat character development.

She ultimately refused the Heart, even now that it and all that it promised were finally within her reach, after fighting so hard for so long to find it. The Heart, of course, insisted she reconsider, whilst extending its tempting proposal to the rest of the women present, emphasizing the stipulation of gender exclusion. Even Dante, by pure technicality, wasn’t ruled out as a candidate, for to the Heart, it surely made little to no difference. If one had considered this standard of ‘good enough’ that it evidently worked by, it would doubtlessly come across as yet another bad sign.

“Hmm… any wish?” Even knowing better, Kazooie still acted to consider for a second the opportunity presented to her. The conceptual examples of “perennial excitement and adventure” and “returning what was lost” in particular struck a chord with her, as they were one and the same in her mind. Besides that, the specifics of her ponderings were a matter of curiosity that would remain unresolved.

“Don’t even think about it,” Banjo bluntly interjected almost admonishingly, shutting down any such prospects or considerations of corrupted wish fulfillment his partner might have had, be they serious or not, to which she silently conceded.

The bear and bird’s eyes affixed to the imposing, enigmatic new entrant just as he passed close by them, having somehow escaped their notice up to that point. He walked slowly amongst them with singular purpose, and apparent disregard for the presence of any others, moving for the Skull Heart even as Bowser began barking threats at it. All attention swiftly moved away from either of them when a seemingly unlikely taker took hold of the Skull Heart, and began pleading her case.

More than a respectable number of eyes went wide, hands went out, and voices were raised in urgency when Linkle voiced serious intentions of wishing upon the Heart, insisting that if it was for the greater good, any suffering incurred on her part would be worth it.

“W-wait! Miss… err…” Banjo began, stumbling over his thoughts and words as he tried to recall the girl’s name, having not actually spent much time around or interacted with in any capacity up until now.

“We should do something, right? Kazooie suggested, a rare sense of alarm faintly present in her voice.

Shaking his head, Banjo said no more and started beelining for the Hylian and the artifact she held. Recognizing resistance, she bounded away from the group to higher ground, but the duo persisted still, switching from Banjo’s feet to Kazooie’s. They could and would still try to reach her, even if no one else could, by propelling themselves her way with a running Shock Spring Jump. Banjo turned and flailed mid-flight to reach for the Heart, but came nowhere close to touching it by the time Linkle made her wish. They were repelled by the wave of invisible energy, knocking them back down to ground level to tumble away. They stood up from where they stopped and could do nothing but watch helplessly at what transpired next.

The Skull Heart was quick as one might expect to betray its new beneficiary (if she could truly be called that), honing in on the one personal flaw it could find in her otherwise altruistic request. Admirably, Linkle tried as she could to not succumb to the corruptive power she had already submitted herself to, but resist as she might, the wish could not be undone; the Skull Heart would have its way. Just as her transformation hit its peak, nearing completion, time and all were suddenly brought to a standstill… all except for the one who made it so. The same robed figure from before warped in for seemingly no other reason than to remind the party of their mission, providing them with a suspicious sum of incentive to prioritize it, before absconding with their teammate through the dark rift that brought him there.

The temporal anomaly ceased, and time resumed for the party, though none knew in the moment what to do with it besides take some to process what had just transpired. It was disturbing and tragic just how easily even a noble soul such as her could, not so much be convinced, but convince herself that any amount of good could come of it. Perhaps she related it in her heart and mind to the more divine wish granting artifact of her world she knew tale of; that none of them would understand, or maybe she simply thought her good will would be enough to override the whims of the infernal Heart. Sadly, this single misstep on the hero’s path, which she believed herself destined for, sent her falling headlong into a dark ravine of ill fate.

Therein lay the true tragedy; that the Skull Heart wasn’t entirely wrong. Generally, all wishes were born of some inherent, often selfish desire or self-serving cause; even wishes for others seldom excluded the wisher. Moreover, one could not altogether dictate or circumvent cause and effect with a forced miracle, even if worded carefully. No grand benefit was or could ever be given for free, and the bill always came due. The problem was that the Skull Heart looked specifically for the crack in her morale to exploit, no matter how infinitesimal, so it may inflict its curse, making no honest account for the intent. In the end, that was all that mattered to it; all it needed; all it cared about, and it got what it wanted.

As for the Nobody, was he lying in wait the whole time waiting for this exact thing to happen, and if so, what nefarious ends did he aim to meet? That much, they were due to find out. The question was, when? Would they defeat the Qliphoth first, or find him along the way? Only time would tell.

“A cryin’ shame, isn’t it?” Mr. Bones chimed in, with a certain somberness in his voice. “That there are always people--or things--in this world lookin’ to take advantage of the good nature of others. If only she knew...” His guitar materialized in his hands once more, and he began improvising lines of a slow, reverberant, melancholic riff between sentences. “There’s no such thing as a pure wish; just good intentions… and you know what they say about those… and if there’s no rest for the wicked, then what’s that say about the righteous? Still, if she wanted to do some good--to be a hero--why not let her? To help others who can’t help themselves isn’t the worst thing a person could want. So what if she wanted her own story to be told? Ain’t those the stories most worth tellin’? I know it doesn’t always work out that way sometimes, but every now and then, one’s good deeds deserve to be rewarded, not punished. Besides, to be-”

Bones’ piece--music and speech--came to a halt as he was drowned out by a resounding, furious roar from the Koopa King unlike any they had heard from him thus far, belted out ahead of him decking the newcomer across the length of what was left of the library. Those among them who knew how things worked here knew they were now in for a fight… which was brought to a swift, unceremonious end when everyone present with a firearm lit up the returning attacker simultaneously. From there, Bowser himself elected to clear him with a Friend Heart, expecting somehow that the man would be more reasonable going forward, and gave him an abridged rundown on the overall situation at hand.

“Well, that was easy.”

“Well, that was easy.”

Mr. Bones and Kazooie declared in unison, then exchanged looks to one another. “Now, where was I?” Bones cleared his throat (out of theatricality rather than need), found his last place on the fretboard, and flipped a switch on his demeanor to pick right back up where he left off.

“To be a hero, you could say, is already its own punishment; in no need of more. Heroes don’t live happily ever after, they make sacrifices so that the rest of us can. That was her choice to make… and she made it hoping no one else would have to. If you can’t call that heroic, heh... then I don’t know what you can call it.”

“Don’t you have an empty grave somewhere to occupy?” Kazooie rebuked, as her way of expressing that she grew tired of the skeleton’s threnodic waxing philosophical.

“Don’t mind her, Mr. Bones.” Banjo interjected, foregoing his usual scolding of Kazooie in lieu of a consoling pat on the shoulder. “I’m sure we’re all just a little upset about what happened.”

“Can’t say I blame you. Poor girl deserved better,” Bones sympathized, keeping the musical accompaniment going by second motion as he continued. “I once dealt with a man who believed good could only manifest where evil thrived, and sought to make that happen. Didn’t care what it cost, or who it would affect, or how; just the result. But your friend… she didn’t want anyone to suffer for it. She just wanted to do what she thought was right. But then again, I’m sure he thought the same.” He paused thoughtfully at the realization, trying not to linger too hard on any of the implications. “Right about now, I almost wish he was right. Almost. But I think we’ve all had about enough of ‘wishes’ for one day.”

Banjo nodded along with Bones’ monologue as it reached its conclusion, the melody fading out in kind. “We should probably get out of here,” Banjo echoed the going recommendation, acknowledging no further the outgoing subject matter for lack of anything more of value to contribute to the discussion around it at present.

Bones concurred with a nod. “Any idea where we’re goin’?”

“Nope, but safe guess is it’s better than here.”

“I hate to play devil’s advocate by pointing out the obvious here, but isn’t there still a main boss who’s butt we have to whoop? I’m no more eager than anyone else to stick around here to race a time limit myself, but…”

“Well, if this place is going up, then it’ll just take care of itself.”

“You sure about that? Because this doesn’t strike me as something skippable, and it might even be harder to get to when we inevitably come back for it later. Just a feeling.”

*sigh* “You’re probably right, but I’d rather do it when we’re better prepared and have more time, like we’re used to. It’s not like it’d be our first time backtracking anyway.”

“Fair enough.”

With that, Mr. Bones dismissed his guitar and followed everyone’s lead in-line with Banjo and Kazooie behind everyone else. Unless anyone of sound mind within the group had any reasonable objections or better ideas (whatever that might be), that would be through the teleporter leading out.

Tora quickly learned that the new arrivals made for a lively bunch. No sooner did his new friends get a chance to relax and the opportunity to introduce themselves than they span out into multiple tangents. The spectacle-wearing man who Tora thought sounded funny made the most sense, speaking of compensation as well as what he hoped to personally get out of the adventure, but the heavy began singing the praises of his sandwich. Braum seemed to take this line of conversation earnestly. “That sounds mighty fine, my friend!” He boomed. “I would be overjoyed for a bite to eat, seeing as we missed lunch and all, ohoho!” He accepted his comrade's offering and ate with relish. “Simple, yet hearty. Splendid! But ah, what I wouldn't give for a side of honey-roasted boar in a Freljord longhouse. You haven't lived until you've spent an evening feasting on the best meat and mead the North can offer!”

The subject of mead seemed to resonate with the dwarf, who by now had yet to identify himself as anything other than Scout. With longing in his eyes he declared, “Aye brother, I hear that. When I worked with Deep Rock me 'n the boys'd treat ourselves in the Space Rig after every mission. Oily Oaf, Arkenstout, Blackreach Blonde, drinkin' ourselves silly 'n snoozin' 'til mornin'...oh, by Karl, that was livin'!”

Tora flapped his wings. “Those sound very interesting! Tora would like to try someday!”

Scout narrowed his eyebrows, fuzzy slugs that they were. “...How old are ya, lad?”

Meanwhile, Poppi approached the Medic. In her third form she stood almost as tall as he, and bore none of the maid trappings that her second form did, but she gave a polite bow nonetheless. “Good to meet you, doctor. Poppi wanted to ask if healing beam works on artificial blade like Poppi, who is not alive. Also wanted to mention that Masterpon Tora currently take role of team's number-one tank, so fast healing both very effective and very appreciated. It seem like Mr. Medic and Mr. Heavy already good friends and teammates, but please not hesitate to look to Tora and Poppi for protection!”

As conversations continued, Midna kept Vah Naboris on the way to the pyramid. The Divine Beast would encounter no difficulty walking through the oasis lake separating it and the RED-BLU battleground, but the thought of hapless wildlife getting crushed beneath monolithic hooves presented itself. Regardless, it didn't take long for Yellow Team to reach the pyramid. As they waited, discussing their objects, Poppi's keen optics spotted a few shapes sliding down the pyramid's surface. “Oh, look! Friend Stealypons making stylish getaway!” Sure enough, the heroes could look and find the Phantom Thieves approaching, plus the welcome sight of Primrose and Midna's steadfast Wolfos. An unfamiliar redheaded girl brought up the rear. In no time at all the Thieves were climbing into the belly of the beast once more.

“We're back! Commence with the praise!” Mona called out cheerfully. His eyes roved over all the new additions to the team, as well as their unsightly scarlet eyes. Not even a majority of the people present stopped to take an interest in the Thieves, but Mona acted like all eyes were on him nonetheless. “I see we've found a few new allies! From that battlefield I presume. As for us, allow us to present the illustrious Alibaba!”

Shyly, the girl brushed at her hair before clasping her hands behind her back. The gaze of several strangers was an unwelcome burden on her. “H-hello! I'm...um...Alibaba.”

Given the group's scattered attention it was easy for her to slip away, and Joker slipped away with her, but the rest remained behind. Mona marched right over to Midna. “Hey boss! From the top of the pyramid, I could see a huge wall a ways to the north! More like a cliff, maybe. I think there was a bridge leading up to the top, but it seemed broken. It looked like ruins on the other side. We should probably head that way. I don't want to say we'll have to abandon this thing, but it can't hurt to start making peace with the idea, right?” He prepared to climb up toward Naboris' head, where he could lounge in the warmth with a good view of things to come.



With the battle brought to a sudden and violent end, and neither rogue abyssals nor skirmishing shipgirls in proximity, a certain peace washed over the sea. Fish and seabirds alike shunned the battlegrounds, and the ashes of the dead littered the water, but still that peace reigned as Sakura and the Water Princess slowly rose and fell atop the waves. Though she was terribly wounded, peace reigned in Sakura's soul as well. She looked at the still form of her enemy without hatred for the pain and death she inflicted, only a touch of pity. If the broken monster heard her Witcher-confounding declaration, she gave no sign, but continued to drift away bit by bit. Yet Sakura did not intend to let her go. Slowly, with careful consideration given to her pummeled organs and cracked bones, the street fighter skated to her enemy's side. In her hand she held a warm essence, a heart-shaped coagulation of goodwill that shone all the brighter for being undeserved.

She implanted the friend heart with gusto, not knowing that the sprite need only make contact to be effective, then took hold of Seaplane Tender to prevent her going under. Galeem's influence evaporated like the morning dew, and as the power of the Friend Heart surged through the Water Princess, it also scrubbed away her wounds. Before Sakura's eyes her arm grew back, the glowing outline of the missing limb giving way to ivory flesh. A moment later, the abyssal's eyes blinked open, pale but with a fiery glow, and took in the sky anew.

“...Warm...”

Immediately she jerked upward as if shocked, inhaling sharply. Her chest heaved as she sat on the surface of the water, her wide eyes trained on Sakura. Things were muddy in her mind, but she could see the wounded girl before her, holding together an amicable smile despite all the punishment clearly visible across her frame. Although she couldn't explain why, or what happened until a moment ago, Seaplane Tender knew one thing looking at this young woman: that she was a friend. “Oh, you're hurt,” she said with a start. Without a second thought she pushed herself up with her tail and scooted over. She laid one snow-white hand on Sakura's shoulder, the other holding her face. “Poor dear, you're bleeding. Concussed? Oh, nevermind that. Please keep calm, mon amie. I will find help.” As she held Sakura close, a number of bombers deployed and immediately scrambled, fanning out in eight directions. One returned to her only a moment later with the 'news'. “A ship? In...the sky?” Sure enough, a glance in the indicated direction confirmed the presence of a floating craft. Seaplane Tender raised her hand and her voice, waving as much as her composure would allow. “Excusez-moi! Hello! Hello? Can you help us?”

Ranger approached warily, her eyes tracking the bombers when they weren't focused on her for. Sure enough, whatever the crazy girl did a moment ago seemed to make the abyssal non-hostile, but she wasn't taking any risks. Some abyssals were clever enough to employ cunning tricks, and to date she'd never seen nor heard of a friendly one. Yet nothing about Seaplane Tender suggested violence. Even her horrible tail lay limply on the waters surface, its tongue lolling from its jaw. Ranger's face, meanwhile, held nothing but hatred. Even putting aside all the other times she'd appeared, this Water Princess had claimed multiple lives today. “Let her go,” she demanded, leveling her launcher at the abyssal's head.

Seaplane Tender blinked, confused, and gingerly released Sakura. She backpedaled a touch with her hands up. Her planes continued to mill about, unresponsive, most of them not even close. “Sorry, I didn't realize I was causing harm.”

The shipgirl laughed bitterly. “You must be pretty oblivious then. Move away. I don't want to catch her in the crossfire.”

The eyes of the abyssal widened. “Q-quoi? Are you...going to kill me?”





Despite his rage, the would-be villain Bowser kept a hold on himself. Even though it would be the work of seconds to finish Sephiroth off in this state, he thought better of it, and presented his assailant with a Friend Heart instead. Nero could only shake his head and sigh. The whole situation was a little too much stimulus for his liking. With so many personalities present it was easy to get lost in the mix, although if it came down to it the devil hunter had planned to step in and stop Bowser from offing someone who ultimately did little more than bad-mouth the departed. Nero couldn't say he was wrong, either; no matter how good her intentions were, the girl had chosen a self-destructive (and in all likelihood purely destructive) path. Foolishness, Linkle. Foolishness. But scornful wasn't how he truly felt. He knew that whenever he pictured that girl's face again, twisted by the pain of transformation, he would see someone else he failed to save. Another noble soul slipped through his fingers. There was, after all, something noble about a spirit not so naive to believe her actions would be without consequences, but determined enough to accept them so long as some good came of them. Nero thought of Marie and her skeletal army, wondering what she was like before. He wondered where Linkle was now. Looking out at the city, he muttered, “Wherever you end up, I hope you'll be able to see your wish fulfilled.”

Nadia's cat-ears perked up at his words. She looked at the devil hunter sideways with a slight smile, feeling a little like she was intruding on his private thoughts. Perennial night partially masked his expression, but her feline eyes could see the sorrow casting deeper shadows across his features. He'd run alongside Banjo and Kazooie after all, trying in vain to Wire Snatch the Skull Heart away. Maybe he blamed himself for what happened. Stern, sarcastic, and a little intense, but...altogether, a nice guy. Although it felt a little weird, she padded over to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. Nero almost jerked away on instinct, but instead he paused long enough to give the feral a thin smile before turning back to the group.

At about the same time, Bowser tried connecting to Marie's spirit. Curiously, the image of the girl within the prismatic orb maintained her appearance as a Skullgirl, even though that mantle had already been passed. What that meant the King Koopa could only guess, if he had a mind to. At the moment, however, he wanted only to give the tragic figure a second chance at justice. Having already accepted the power of a far more monstrous entity, of course, Marie did not balk at this chance. The sound of an ethereal heartbeat heralded the forging of a new bond.



After putting aside their medic's rambling about 'anime', it didn't take much deliberation for the heroes of Red Team to conclude on a plan of action. Nobody, after all, wanted to be atomized in a giant explosion. Without enough information to use to put a plan together, making a break for it was the next best thing. Blazermate presented her Striker's teleporter as if she was showing it off, and one by one the party began to depart. At its current refinement level the teleporter could put people through at a reasonable rate, but it still bottlenecked them something fierce. At least Mr. Bones' tunes commemorating Linkle -workshopped as the line move forward- helped with the tension, if not the general mood.

Sans quietly slipped into the line as well, shrugging when a few of the heroes gave him a look. “ey, I know you have a bone to pick with me, but i wasn't myself back there, ya know? sorry 'bout the beatdown, really i am, i ain't normally one to fight, ever. but if i get blown up i can't make amends, right?”

The idea of the brutally powerful skeleton not being much of a fighter, and especially that of him tagging along as a friend, made Nero's head spin, but he couldn't just turn him away in good conscience. He did his best to think of Sans as just another Dead Zone civilian lost and in need of rescue. A freakishly strong one, but still. And speaking of civilians...

“Ya can't be serious,” Nico was saying. “Leave mah van behind to get blown t'smithereens? My life's work's in there, dammit!”

Nero groaned. “Look, I know it's important, but we don't know how long until this bomb thing goes off. No guarantee you'll be able to make it out of the city before it disappears. Plus, Blazermate said this thing lets out in Alcamoth. You'd need to take that thing across the wasteland, the entire Land of Adventure, some mountains, and who knows what else.”

“Hmph!” Nico slumped against the van. “Ain't a challenge for the likes of us. We're in the southeast part of the dang city anyways. Tell ya what, let's make a deal. I do it, and if I die, ya can tell the crater 'I toldja so.' If I don't, you gotta fuse with somethin' with a brain. Sound good?”

Nero looked highly unamused. “Not even a little. But I guess there's no stopping you, huh?”

“Nope! Not when I got tracks to make.” Nico climbed in the Minotaurus and started the engine. Over its roar she shouted, “See ya 'round! If ya need me, just gimme a call!” In a spray of dust, ash, and rubble, the van disappeared. Nero shook his head once more and joined the diminishing line.

Meanwhile, V had elected to go through with his plan. In the manner explained to him previously he absorbed the spirit of the fallen demon summoner, triggering a resplendent lightshow for all to enjoy, yet when it died down the result wasn't all that spectacular.



Gradually the group collected on the other side of the teleporter, in the grand Alcamoth atrium. Their arrival was noted by Isabelle, returned to her duties as secretary after a brief but enjoyable visit to Limsa Lominscuttle Town with Blue Team, and the little dog wasted no time ringing up the proper authorities. Sans looked around, taking in the sights. “this place is pretty tight. got a burger joint anywheres?”

In short order the genial giant Vandham appeared, spreading wide his enormous, muscly arms in bewilderment. “What 'appened? Mission failed?” He looked over those assembled, noting a few new faces. When his eyes met Dante's, however, they lit up like firecrackers. “'Scuse me, I stand corrected! Any mission that turns up such a lovely lady couldn't possibly be called a failure. Welcome to Alcamoth, Miss...?”

The legendary devil hunter laughed nervously. “Ahaha...ha. Um. No need to stand on ceremony. Name's Dante, but uh, let's stick to business, eh?”

“Couldn't've said it better meself,” Vandham nodded. He crossed his arms and faced the trio of Bowser, Nero, and Blazermate. “So what's the sitch?”

“Some serious fights. Linkle is gone. A few wounds not healing right,” Nero explained succinctly. He motioned to the Doom Slayer, Jak and Daxter, and Donnie. “There's also some kind of explosive in the city somewhere strong enough to wipe the whole place out. Figured we shouldn't chance it.”

Vandham mulled the news over. “Infirmary for those guys, then. As fer the rest of ya, what'sa plan? Might be tough to find the other teams. Maybe ya 'ead fer a new, less dangerous region. We got the map ya brought us in at HQ.”

As the light took effect, Sakura winced, not knowing what to expect. The wince faded into wonder as unknown side effects of the Friend Heart began to take shape. It is a fortunate thing that the Water Princess turned out so friendly, because Sakura's defenses as her jaw dropped in wonder at the startlingly beautiful display. The missing arm grew right back, the color returned to the Water Princess.

The most shocking thing was the look in the Seaplane Tender's face. She looked...really nice. Sakura said nothing. Numbly she rose to her feet as the Water Princess looked over her and began asking for help on her behalf. Because she was worried about Sakura, all of a sudden. Both pairs of Sakura's ears were still ringing from the detonation this very woman had just placed upon her! Now they were friends! (Sugoi!)

"W...wow. H-hey! Y-yeah, that's the, uh, the Atomos. My friends are up there. My name is...Sakura, by the way...? M-man. I didn't think it w-would work th-that well." She said, eyes like saucers.

The water Princess was gentle, ginger...tender, even. Sakura began to tremble and tense up, biting on her lower lip.

(I knew it. I KNEW IT! TENDER AS IN CHICKEN AS IN NICE! I KNEW IT ALL ALONG!) Sakura screamed in thought to herself.

The surprise subsided and Sakura almost exploded. Figuratively, this time, out of joy. Fortunately, her new additional modesty helped her out. It granted her a crucial few seconds of composure as she stared at her bloodied hands and clenched them in amazement. A big stupid grin appeared on her face. Sakura's brown eyes began to wet with tears.

(PEACH AND GERALT AND KAMEK AND CADET AND RYURYURYU AND EVERYONE WILL BE SO PROUD OF ME! I DID IT! I REALLY DID IT!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! OW OW OW THIS HURTS! BUT I'M THE BEST! I'M GONNA-) Before she could start wildly celebrating, the brave Ranger arrived to help her new ally. If she had started yelling in victory, this encounter might have been harder to handle.

Sakura gaped and considered the situation from Ranger's perspective. Though she was still elated, her mood was brought down. She had almost forgotten the nature of her new ship girl powers- the absorbed spirit of a dead person. Someone who was loved and who would be missed. One of Ranger's friends. The whiplash caused the brewing tears to flow freely. Sakura smiled bitterly, pouted proudly, and then groaned in some emotion she didn't know the name for. The term one might use would be overwhelmed. The ecstacy of victory undercut by the consequences of war.

Sakura blinked and steadied herself on the water. Her face became serious once again. One last surge of resolve. She interposed herself between the Water Princess and the heroic Ranger. "Hey...you." She said, still not knowing Ranger's name.

Sakura frowned in concentration as she tried to think of the right words to say. "I...I'm sorry about your friends. But- you have- to- understand- that..." Sakura fumbled over her sentences. Whatever momentum she had going there had sputtered out with the emotional whiplash.

(Oh, screw it.)

"Wow wooah!" Sakura shouted flatly. She pointed with her unbroken arm to the sky behind Ranger. "What's that in the sky! It's a huge monster! Look out!" Sakura said like she was on the stage of her middle school play.

Regardless of whether or not her deception was effective, Sakura put her actual skills to use. She dodge rolled forward at full speed. It had nearly zero start-up before she was going ridiculously fast. Then she erupted upwards with it powerful yet nonlethal knee to Ranger's shoulder. She tapped her chest, and summoned forth a Friend Heart. She took it in both hands and slammed it down onto Ranger's chest as she descended. A vigorous, powerful, metaphorical, and ultimately unnecessecary display. Sakura coughed and grabbed Ranger by the arm. A trickle of fresh blood trailed from her lips and down to her chin.

She steeled her lungs and steadied her voice. "Nice to meet you, I'm Sakura! Listen, I know you're probably really mad at the Water Princess, and I understand. She's done terrible things. You lost people- lost your friends. One of your friends lended me their power in this very fight," Tears flowed as freely as her words. Her eyebrows were knitted together with concern and admiration and bittersweetness. "And that's terrible. I'm so so sorry. But it wasn't her fault," She jerked her good thumb over her shoulder towards the confused french woman.

Sakura then placed both arms and began to shake Ranger's shoulders. Her right arm, the broken one, made a gross noise and squirted blood. "It was Galeem! You have to remember the light, right? That awful light! It ate everyone and forced them to its will! Galeem! It makes people stupid and violent! It got all of us! But you're free now, and SHE'S free now! Everyone is being made to kill each other for no reason! We can't let Galeem make us kill each other! We just can't, okay!? I'm sorry about your friend and you are SO brave and strong and can I hug you? Guh..." Sakura's heroic energy was as spent as her breath. Her Ki was leaving her, no longer generated by combat.

Her legs were jelly and everything hurt. Emotionally and physically exhausted she collapsed onto Ranger and wrapped her arms around her. Unburdened by killing and lifted by victory, her spirits were as high as ever. But that was all she had going for her. There was an awkward clanking as their harnesses bounced into each other. Sakura breathed heavily. The blood from her mouth and tears from her eyes stained Ranger's shirt. The Abysall infused Ranger wasn't the most comfortable hug, but it would do. Anything would do. Ranger could probably detect that if she let go, this strange, enthusiastic girl would fall onto the water.

"Oops...w-what's your n-name... by the way?" Sakura added, weak. She smiled, pained. Her teeth were shiny and stained red. Turns out the 'later' of dealing with her wounds was actually more of a 'sooner.' Her adrenaline was fading. Considering the lives lost at sea in this battle, she felt a little bad about feeling so good about herself.

Her weary brown eyes searched the skies for the Atomos. When she found it she raised her unbroken arm and waved. Then she turned around, pushing herself off of Ranger just barely enough to give the Water Princess a thumbs up and a smile.

The bespectacled man, his words thickly accented, was the first to introduce himself, calling himself the Medic. He spoke of missing comrades, an unsurprisingly common trend among the other answers she got to her question after what they wanted. He, along with his companion the Heavy, also wanted money and weapons, which was standard fare for mercenaries as far as she was aware. Their desire for hats was oddly specific but perhaps, Midna thought, it was a cultural status thing where important people wore big and/or fancy hats to identify themselves as such.

”Spirits should be able to fuel those material desires. Well, mostly the weapon one. Defeated monsters and other foes will drop these luminous spirits, which can be crushed to produce useful items, like Tora’s shield over there. Or they can be absorbed into the heart or head to gain their power or skills respectively, though you might get weaknesses of theirs too. Finally you can convince them to work for you as temporarily summon-able minions,” Midna explained. It was going to come up at some point, so now was as good a time as any to get this piece of information into the hands of their new allies. As weird as some of them were. While the heavy began to exposit on the virtues of his endless sandwich the Doctor showed himself to be one of those people who were obsessed with knowledge above all else with his poorly obfuscated desire to “experiment” on her.

”As for your final question, Doctor, I am a Twili, though I am a touch cursed and spirit warped at the moment. Also, incidentally, while you can look all you want I’m afraid you can’t touch. Sorry, you're just not to my taste. Don’t feel too bad though, there are plenty of weird and wonderful fish in the sea for you to experiment on, I’m sure,” she told him in a mock rejection, though she also more seriously shook her head and made a face when Poppi came along to ask about healing that was a very clear communication of “no, not on her either”

Speaking of taste, the heavy’s talk about and then sharing his sandwich with Braum had attracted the attention of most of the other men on their vessel to talk about food from their home realms. All baring Fox. The leader of the scouting mission had returned last of all, barely slipping onto the craft in time to join their escape. Despite his near unequivocal success (they still had to free the newcomers, but otherwise had swelled their ranks without coming to harm themselves) the man looked troubled and even disheartened as he silently slipped past the talkative folks with near a word. She wondered what had happened, but didn’t pry. Not yet anyway.

Unlike their prior trip, there wasn’t time for in depth discussion as they rounded the Oasis. Midna’s reasoning was not wanting to risk finding out if they’d get bogged down in the water, but she didn’t exactly plow through the trees or other life clinging to the edge of the desert sanctuary either. As they approached the Pyramid a sharp eyed Poppi spotted the Thieves surfing down its side, safe and sound, along with the search party and a new plus one, which was reliving but also put a damper on Midna’s new warrior spirit.

”You all got back alive. Good boy” Midna replied to Mona’s demand for praise once they arrived back onboard, but it got intercepted by a creature who did not being treated like a pet as condescending as Midna’s wolfos, which had dutifully escorted Primrose all the way through the pyramid as instructed, bounded over and then sat before its mistress, tongue panting and tail wagging.

”That wasn’t…” She said before sighing ”Yes yes, you did well now go home and wash, your coat is dusty” she told it, Primroses best efforts of dusting the beast off apparently not quite good enough for the princess. Sand grains on bare skin were never fun no matter how few there were, you didn’t need to be a pea under a half dozen mattresses sensing Princess to get annoyed at them. The shadow beast would likely appreciate the ability to cool off regardless after a job well done and so it happily hopped through a twilight portal back to wherever it called home.

Midna did indeed lose track of the thieves’ latest member as soon as she had introduced herself, though this was mainly because Mona approached her and gave her the rundown of the obstacles that would be in their way as they headed for the mountain, notably a cliff face that seemed to block off progress further north. A worrying development as, as he pointed out, it would mean they would need to leave the ancient anti Ganon weapon behind to proceed any further.

”That’s.. Not good,” She said. The warning was useful, so as she set them on their way round the pyramid and then towards this broken bridge once she spotted it she had time to think over the implications.

”Maybe I can control it remotely and still use the main long ranged spell? Or send it back to the entrance to hand over control to Zelda or another mercenary so they can sweep the area after we’ve moved on?” She pondered as she floated away and examined the central control unit more closely to see what she could do with it if they were indeed forced to leave it behind.

While they traveled north she drifted to and fro and thought this over she caught sight of Fox again and, remembering his silent return, decided to see what the deal was.

”So, what’s the matter with you foxy? I thought you’d be happy with how your plan turned out, but you sure didn’t look it earlier” she asked him as she drifted by, before settling down on a nearby platform to hear if he had anything to say.