Before: Peering through the target Orendi had made for her spell, Jesse lined up the shot and pulled the trigger of Shatter. Shatter it did, the blast passed right. Orendi's head vanished in a psionic blast of red mist, and by the time the space pest had dropped dead to the ground she had disintegrated into dust. Only a small glass ball was left in her place. Jesse knew she was supposed to be taking people alive, but she guessed that even with the double layer of mind control, that bloodthirtsy witch wouldn't have been very well liked by anyone. Jesse spared an impassive glance for the ash pile before turning back to her firefight against the sniper, Mordecai.

---

A stray ray of frost had hit Mordecai, the other person Jesse had trussed up with balloons to guide to safety. Him and his annoying bird. Unlike Orendi, she rendered the both of them unconscious. In them she spotted potential for whatever scheme the ragtag group of 'heroes' she had ended up with had cooked up. Ciella, in yet another addition to the long and growing list of 'big Ciella attacks that annoy Jesse Faden', blasted a ray of frost that struck Mordecai.

The director reacted just in time. Jesse reached out and snatched the semi-frozen balloons, causing Mordecai to be wrenched about by the displaced force. But otherwise, he wouldn't be tossed into a big attack that Jesse was pretty sure was ALSO Ciella's. She threw the balloons a 'safe' distance away from the fight and let Mordecai and his bird float for now.

Midna had turned on Ciella, for reasons the Director could now guess. But friendly fire usually wasn't best responded to with even more friendly fire. They certainly didn't like each other, but considering what the Director had seen of Braum, this wasn't mind control. If Midna had any grievances, they could have waited until they were done fighting. Either way, the poor princess had gotten her ass kicked, so the issue was settled for now.

For good news, it looked like Mao had finally beaten the Dragonborn and give him one of those pink hearty things. Bad news, Mordecai got frozen up and sent away. Then he went after Fuse, and Jesse imagined the kid could take him. Sectonia was still dueling with Shadow. The Queen Bee hadn't asked for help, and hopefully Ciella's rampant magical attacks would keep him at bay long enough for the battle to be over. The Director hadn't seen Shadow run fast even one time, so that was pretty disappointing.

Now, what? The Phantom Thieves (Mona included!) were gunning for Nastasia, which Jesse certainly agreed was their priority target. If they could take that annoying secretary looking villain out, all their issues might be solved.

Reinhardt's shield have been broken, which gave Jesse an opportunity to take the big guy out of the picture for now. While normally her Tool Gun couldn't penetrate his energy shield, with it destroyed, he was vulnerable. Jesse clicked the undo button on her own balloons, the ones she did most recently, and dropped to the ground with a grunt. Sprinting, she followed after the Thieves and charged towards Nastasia and her protectors.

Switching her Tool Gun to shrink mode, she levelled it at Reinhardt. Blue beams of light pinged out and struck the German warrior, each blast reducing his size by half, causing his impressive strength to diminish. Soon, he was no bigger than two feet tall. With a sweeping motion of her left hand, the Director tore a chunk of rock out of the wall and flung it at him, smashing into him and battering him into a wall. Afterwards, she turned her focus to Uncle Sven. The strangely shaped man had been a very useful member of their team thus far, though Jesse hadn't had a chance to focus on him yet.

That rock was the only one she could throw, because her Energy was still recharging. And switching back to her Service Weapon would take too long. So instead, Jesse pointed the Tool Gun at Uncle Sven, and with a flick of her thumb made it go from 'mini' to 'wumbo'. Or, rather, from shrink, to enlarge. Focusing on his rotund belly, she increased the size of his abdomen and his abdomen alone. Much like Mona's large head had prevented him from doing much when increased, she was hoping to do the same thing here. If his already proportionally large torso got so big his legs couldn't touch the ground, he would roll around like a ball and be drastically reduced in usefulness. Plus, maybe she was just being biased, but he reminded her of this funny homeless guy she used to know and Jesse wasn't sure if she had the heart to plug him full of lead.

So, just about twelve shots from her Tool Gun and a thrown rock about two feet in diameter was what Jesse was contributing thus far, combined with her own forward movement as she advanced behind the Phantom Thieves towards Nastasia and her final group of Vandal defenders. She figured she could make them count.

Evade Ciella, overwhelm the opposition, and take the hypnotic mastermind Nastasia down--the mission was simple enough, if not easy, and since every second counted the team got right to it.

Reunited from their separate brawls all across the alien colosseum by the Agito’s wide-ranging Floor of Despair, most of the Seekers ran at full tilt straight for the cluster of still-standing Resistance fighters, and none more so than Mao. The demon had noticed a certain bothersome someone way out of position, and with one victory already under his belt Mao powered through his wounds to run Fuse down. Another grenade flew his way, but by now Mao knew what to expect, and with a high-flying maneuver he came down on Fuse in a brutal plunging attack. In pragmatic fashion he threw restraint to the wind, counting on a follow-up Friend Heart to undo the lethal wound inflicted by his swordblade, saving the life of the unfortunate grenadier. And in a lucky break, things turned out exactly the way Mao planned. Overwhelmed by the physical shock of being dumped at death’s door only for it to slam in his face, Fuse collapsed, and Mao could rejoin his allies’ charge with barely a break in the action.

Though almost as scared as she was impressed, Necronomicon offered Mao some praise for his work. “Whoa. That was a risky move, Mao, but you really pulled it off!”

While her compatriots moved in for an all-out clash with the Resistance, Sectonia kept her focus squarely on Shadow. They’d been mutual thorns in each others’ sides throughout the entire conflict, though whether out of a desire to spare their teammates a particularly troublesome opponent or just out of spite was up to interpretation. Either way, neither planned to back down now. Shadow could feel that the climactic moment had appeared. Now, he knew, he’d squash this bug once and for all. “Alright, bee-yotch. You’ve had your fun, but playtime’s just about over. Any last words?”

As a matter of fact, Sectonia did. Though aware of the fact that Nastasia had him under control she made her best attempt to try and incite a rebellion, playing on the ego that so clearly oozed from his every pore. With a double dose of mental manipulation at play, however, Shadow was unmoved, as he quickly demonstrated. “Oh? How about I claim your spirit as a trophy once I’ve dispensed with you? Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick. In fact, if you blink you might just miss me. Chaos Boost!”

A burst of red and white power surrounded him, becoming a swirling aura. He raised his hand in what was by now a familiar motion, but rather than a Chaos Spear he brought forth a much larger Chaos Lance, which he hurled at Sectonia. Though it seemed dodgeable, if she tried anything less than a dedicated attempt to avoid it, she would soon find that this attack need not hit her directly to be effective. Once in range it exploded, detonated mid-flight by Shadow with enough sheer power to stun anyone it hit. Shadow then threw himself forward in another Spin Attack. En route, however, he tapped into his Chaos powers once again. “Chaos Burst!” Around him space itself distorted, creating a miniature black hole that the hedgehog then hid himself inside. Totally untargetable, he guided the singularity of destruction Sectonia’s way, limited only by his inability to see where he was going whilst within distorted space.

While Sectonia tried to deal with that, the two sides down below closed in. Braum raised his shield, and though Reinhardt would have joined him, his broken shield’s partial regeneration meant it would break too fast if deployed too early, so the knight kept it in reserve for now. That turned out to be a mistake. He scoffed at gunfire and shrugged off low-level spells thanks to his futuristic armor, but one well-placed shot from Jesse’s tool gun shrunk him where he stood. The process was so disorienting that he could hardly react in time to the second jolt, and before he knew it the giant paladin stood no taller than a Weimaraner. At that point Jesse’s tunnel vision would have earned her a sound punishment under normal circumstances, but a quick appraisal of the enemy force told her that they sorely lacked in the long-range department, so she did not relent. Instead she battered Reinhardt with a projectile, failing to send him the hundreds of feet she envisioned, but dealing a chunk of damage nonetheless and, more importantly, removing him from the fight. One down, three to go.

She turned her uncanny gun on Sven, but by then her laser focus left its mark. Rather than the alchemist’s belly her enlargement ray struck Braum’s shield as the defender practically flew in front of his ally, and before Jesse knew it Sven had soared into the air. “That’s enough, lassie!” Flying above Braum’s head, he let fly a Chaos Quaff, an enormous glass jar of liquid sorcery that shone a distractingly radiant yellow. With low energy, no hovering, and not enough time to switch to Balloon again, there wasn't much Jesse could do. The bubbling brew shattered at her feet and splashed across a wide area, dousing her, Mao, and Joker in its magic. Instantly the three were polymorphed, transformed into adorable creatures. Mao became a horned critter, Jesse a marshmellow cat, and Joker a sheep, all three fluffy, small, and utterly harmless. That left only the Dragonborn and Fox still standing, two on three. Sven landed, shaking potions with both hands and ready to fight. Funny he might be, and homeless definitely, but he was not to be underestimated.

Braum slammed the ground, causing a fissure to form, and through the resulting instability Sven charged. He flung vial after vial, creating small magic explosions with each. Though incredibly hindered in their new forms the polymorphed trio had to dodge as best they could, but even then only a couple seconds passed before Sven whipped out some Acid Flasks. “Yah!” he cried, hurling his caustic concoctions to sizzle and sear. But the gleam of a prismatic blade cut one short, and though drops of burning acid struck his face and clothes Fox stood firm. He sliced through the second vial, and as the third flew straight for him he assumed a counter stance. The smash of glass against his head triggered a brilliant flash, and when his katana slid back into its scabbard Sven flew back, his belly covered in cuts.

Victory was short-lived. Fox fell to his knees, scorched by acid. “Gyagggghhh…” he gasped through gritted teeth. “That did not...go according..to plan!”

Seeing him in distress, Braum charged forward. The brainwashed guardian shoved the wounded Sven aside and ran straight for Fox, his enormous shield poised to smash him to a pulp. The Dragonborn jumped into help, but his lightning and swordblade found an immovable object, and he too fell by the wayside. Just when Fox’s death seemed certain, however, the effects of the short-lived Chaos Quaff wore off. The afflicted poofed back to normal, just in time to save Fox’s skin and take down the last enemy between them and Nastasia.

Joker reacted fast. “Jinx, Riot Gun!” His new Persona appeared in a burst of maniacal laughter, unleashing a torrent of gunfire from her minigun. The bullets hammered Braum’s shield, doing no damage but imparting enough force against its increased weight that she slowed him down. While this happened Joker charged, sprinting into and then up the wall of stone before him. He rolled over the top and came down with a stomp right to Braum’s nose, stunning him long enough that Joker could springboard off him and toward his real target: Nastasia. Sven and Braum were the others’ to deal with.

All the while, Midna did her best to hog Ciella’s coveted attention all to herself. When yelled at from the shadows but not attacked, the Agito covered her momentary bewilderment with a thundering repartee. “Your threats, empty as your head, ring hollow!” she resounded. “The hypocrites of the so-called Resistance--murderers and scoundrels who stained their hands with the blood of innocents and decreed it righteous! And your miserable band, so convinced of your own strength, but undone by a simple ploy I showed you once already? Hah! I despair for you all!”

Wherever Midna’s voice issued from, Ciella immediately turned to loose a five-shot spread of enchanted water arrows, their azure glow strong enough to scrub the shadows in their vicinity. They bounced off the floor, pillars, and walls, ricocheting unpredictably. If Midna revealed herself, however, Mona could patch her up with a burst of healing from his dashing Persona’s Diarama. When nothing happened for a while, however, Ciella’s fury died down, and though alert she stopped firing off arrows. “As I thought...a fangless phantom, cowering in the dark! Well, come on out if you dare. I’ll put you out of your misery!”

For a moment the ‘fight’ between Shadow and Sectonia caught her attention. In her eyes both were enemies, and neither expected a third party’s interference. In that moment Midna finally appeared, a spin tile in hand that unceremoniously hurled the harpy right into one of the arena walls. It hurt her pride more than anything else, but Ciella’s frustration was palpable. “Grrah!” she snarled. “Impish brat! Every second of my time you waste, your precious friends falter, and the enemy inches closer to victory! It’s past time I ended this. Mist Veil!”

A wave of fog expanded outward through the arena, and despite her gigantic size Ciella disappeared completely. In the eddies and swirls of mist her movements could not be cleanly discerned. In mere moments the Agito would appear to release her devastating attack. Everyone needed to finish this now.



Though the Grimleal construed their offer as a choice, for most of those present, it was really no choice at all. Not able to discount the possibility of further executions on Azwel’s part, and more wary now of the sneering Kan-Ra, Tora and Poppi instinctively took a protective position in front of the other fallen Resistance fighters. They felt bad enough about the deaths on their own hands during the life-or-death battle minutes ago, and with their former enemies now defenseless, they refused to allow any more killing. Likewise, Goldlewis and Big Band -formidable obstacles by themselves, let alone together- kept an eye on the strange bellows they’d been acquainted with. The Grimleal, however, seemed to give the matter no further thought. When Fox moved to treat Robin with a friend heart, neither Kan-Ra nor Azwel batted an eye. Instead they made for the dungeon entrance, but as the researcher left, possibly to summon the acolytes, the sorcerer remained behind.

Groaning, Robin picked himself off the ground. With a sleeve he wiped at his face as if trying to clear away the remainder of the fog that clouded his mind. When his eyes finally blinked open, they landed on a familiar vulpine face. “Ah…” He rose into a kneeling position, massaging his neck as he did. Though a changed man since Fox last met him, he looked at the pilot with recognition in his eyes. Thanks to a sharp mind Robin was quickly piecing things together, but the weight of so many realizations and memories still made it difficult to formulate his thoughts. “I...forgive me,” he said at last, looking between Fox and the Phantom Thieves. “Even if my mind was not my own, it was by my hand that much pain was wrought, and for that I can only offer my deepest apologies. I know not how you dispelled this hex, but I am exceedingly grateful, nonetheless.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Skull told him, his jovial manner making it clear that neither he nor Panther took it too seriously.

His friend nodded, her smile encouraging. “Yeah, no problem! This kind of thing’s been happening, like, literally all the time.”

The sight of blonde pigtails reminded Robin to look back down at Tharja, who still lay at his side. He leaned over and laid a hand on her shoulder, shaking softly, but she barely stirred. After a moment the tactician looked back at Fox, his plea easily guessed. “I hate to ask more of you when you’ve already done so much, but if at all possible I would want Tharja restored, as well.” A conflicted but telling expression took over his features. “She’s become...well, rather important to me.”

“Heheh, good mornin’ heartache,” Band chuckled, before growing serious. “Don’chu worry ‘bout a thing, Mister Magic, we’ll get her fixed up. In fact, I bet we’ve all got some heart to give, right folks?” With a look around the detective conducted a quick headcount. “Three, four, five. Not so bad, as long as we spread the love around. Don’t want anyone gettin’ too beat.”

Poppi raised her hand for attention. “Six actually, friend Band. Poppi trapped gun lady in jail cell.”

“Oh, yeah!” Goldlewis snapped his fingers. “Knew I was forgettin’ somethin’. Jus’ be careful, she’s still got ‘er gun in there.”

After considering all the potential subjects his team could free, Tora gave a grimace. “Do friends really need heart big baldypon? He very nasty to Rose-Rose!” With a resolute shake of his head the Nopon put his wings akimbo. “Tora not do it!”

“Don’t be childish,” Big Band scolded him as he moved toward the titanic ninja. Copying what the others did, he managed to produce a friend heart on his first try and slap it into Earthquake’s gut. As the bandit stirred, Band continued, “Even if the guy’s a scumbag, he was under both the Resistance’s brainwashin’ and Galeem’s control. We don’t get to call the shots when it comes to people’s lives.”

“Meeeh…”

“Ga-what now?” Goldlewis scratched his head. “Uh, either way, I don’t think any of these guys’re gonna get justice ‘round these parts.” He glared at the Grimleal. “Not with varmints like them around.”

Like it or not, Big Band came to the same conclusion. Whether corrupt or just cruel, the administration led by Validar was one he couldn’t abide, and from the looks of it the rest of the Seekers felt the same way. “We’ll jus’ have to take it up with Validar. And be ready for anything.”

As the Seekers spread out to distribute liberation, with Tora and Poppi going to tear down their handiwork in an effort to take care of Daisy, Robin remained at Tharja’s side. She, Sora, Es, and the Witch Doctor still needed a heart from someone or another, and the tactician waited to see who would step up to the plate. A nudge at his side prompted him to glance over and see Drippy, returned from his hiding place, and though Gleaming he lacked the hypnosis placed on all the Resistance members. “Looks like we’ve still got a shot to expose that rotter Validar, eh?”

“Perhaps,” Robin replied, uncertain. “If it were up to the Grimleal I’m certain all your lives would be forfeit, brainwashing be damned. Validar might spare me only so that I might become a vessel for the Fell Dragon, Grima. But I’m not going to let that happen, and it would appear that this odd group may be our salvation. The campaign of the Resistance may have been a sham, but given the strength and moral fiber of these ‘mercenaries’, revolution may yet come to Al Mamoon.”

Drippy nodded enthusiastically, jungling his nose-lantern. “Tidy! Don’t you fret mun, we’ll have ouer day yet!”

Once the former Resistance members had been restored, that left just a couple loose ends. One was the embraced knight still imprisoned closer to the stairs, but Tora and Poppi concerned themselves with a more personal matter. They held the spirits of Beast and Dante, one apiece. “Fight was very tough, meh” Tora told Big Band when he caught the detective’s quizzical look. “If Tora and Poppi not go all-out, we probably die.”

It was an excuse Band heard more than enough of during his time on the force. Crooked cops could spin up any excuse to explain away their dirty deeds. But neither the rotund inventor nor his companion stank of corruption, and Band gave them the benefit of the doubt. “I see.” He bent down to give the dwarf’s spirit a closer look. “Looks like a tough cookie. You gonna fuse with him?”

Tora shook his head emphatically. “Meh-meh, no way! Tora have dream other night that Tora fuse with old beardypon. Get weird legs and human nose! Blegh! In future, Tora only accept things with same shape!”

“Well, Poppi not want him, either,” the artificial blade declared, her own decision already made. She glared at the spirit of Dante with unconcealed contempt. “And not want this guy. There more important things than strength.”

“Why not break ‘em, then?” Band suggested with his eyes on Tora. “Your guy had a hammer, right? Might pack more punch than your dinky li’l wrench there.” The Nopon agreed and crushed Beast’s spirit, and a moment later Poppi followed suit with Dante’s.



Tora waved his new hammer around, a little disappointed. “It got much shorter, meh.”

“This actually really good,” Poppi observed, having changed to QT mode to try her new Mech Arms out. “Less unwieldy, more destructive, and can actually grab and hold things.”

Meanwhile, Skull was checking out the spirit of Charnok that Panther recovered. “You’re not gonna absorb him too, right?”

Panther shook her head, bouncing her giant pigtails around. “Nah. I get the feeling that if I fuse with any more reptiles, it’s gonna be messy. Only spirits that are both cute and strong from here on out!”

“Yeah, makes sense. Ooh, then what about her?” Skull indicated Es.

He received an incredulous look from Panther for his efforts. “You just want me to be shorter than you again.” Another possibility dawned on her, one that turned her expression highly judgemental. “That...or you want me bigger in another way...”

Skull shook his head wildly as he waved his hands, trying to placate her, although the slight reddening of his cheeks gave the game away. “N-no way, man! I was just thinking, she was pretty, um, pretty...uh, strong! And really fast too, with that giant sword! Y-ya know what I mean?”

At about that time Azwel returned with his acolytes, providing an escort for both Seekers and Resistance members alike. It was time to return to the surface.

Tora freed Goldlewis. Poppi freed Daisy.

---

After a long trek back up through the Temple of Khamoon, including an exhaustive number of stairs, the afternoon sun fell upon the group once more. Tora blinked as his eyes adjusted, having been deep underground for a little too long, and stretched. “Meee-eh! So good to get back out in open!” He brushed some dust out of his hair before looked around. “What now?”

“Now, we will return with the prisoners to the palace,” Kan-Ra informed the team. “I can only imagine that it is your destination as well.”

“What is it?” his comrade asked, having heard his name.

Kan-Ra grinned at him. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to address you. How foolish of me~”

As the researcher brushed him off, glowering, the sorcerer returned his attention to the others. “As I was saying, I can only imagine that the palace is your destination...also. Whether to collect your reward, or for other reasons. Although, your friends that went to join dear Ciella may not yet be done. Who knows how that turned out.” Not once did his leering smile diminish. “Rest assured we will watch over the prisoners until you all return, with the final third of their number.”

Every word eking out of the not-mummy’s mouth made alarm bells go off in Band’s head, but he did have a point. Since the boss of the Resistance wasn’t here, as Robin made plain on the way up, that meant she would be facing the other team. He did not trust the Grimleal with the captives, but he didn’t want to just assume that the other team had things covered, either. With time of the essence, he came to a decision. “Goldlewis, Fox, whaddya say we keep our new friends company while the rest run on over to the other base?”

Poppi tapped a metal finger against her cheek, thinking. “How we know where other friends are?”

“We need guide,” Tora answered, his eyes on Kan-Ra and Azwel. “Either Grimmypon help, or let Resistance member help us.”

With his arms crossed, Azwel looked displeased. “We are hardly beholden to you, my ovoid friend!”

“Now, now. I’m sure we could spare an acolyte or two to lead the way,” Kan-Ra smirked.

Band realized something. “Nuh-uh. Not gonna take a chance on ya leadin’ us on a wild goose chase. Seein’ as I’m somethin’ of a law officer myself, I’ll just take a captive into protective custody.”

For a brief moment it seemed as though an ever-so-slight shadow passed over Kan-Ra’s smile. “...Suit yourself.”

After a moment’s deliberation Es received the nomination, and in just a few moments more the former team Kan-Ra was off.



Blind and deaf to the world beyond her dinner table, Nadia savored her sardines for all they were worth. She popped in several entire fishes in at once, urged by her hunger to gulp them down quickly but able to eat just slowly enough to enjoy their salty, fatty oils, and the flavor of the tomato juice they’d been packed in. Still, in no time at all they were gone, and Nadia reached for the next closest morsels. She crunched up a carrot, wolfed down a wedge of cheese, and annihilated a tuna steak and had her claws on another sardine tin before she finally paused. “Oof,” she murmured, more from weariness than anything, and with a relieved sigh she stretched out to rest for a moment.

Though by no means stuffed and not even full, she felt infinitely better. The dire emptiness that made her take leave of her senses had calmed for now; the beast had been appeased. As she lay there Nadia took another, better look around the cafeteria. Most of the gaunt, unfamiliar kids still hid themselves in the shadows away from their boisterous guests, but one boy with hair covering his eyes approached them. Via pantomime he made clear to the new kids both his resolve to get out of here and a method by which they might do so, which gave the Seekers who refused to eat something else to hold on to. By Nadia’s estimation, Geralt, Link, Mirage, Sakura, Rika, Kamek, and of course Blazermate had yet to give in to their appetites, which cut the group approximately in half. Nadia, Bowser, Junior, Mimi, the behemoths, Glenn, Peach, and Bella, meanwhile, had partaken.

Did the feral wish she could have controlled herself? Naturally. She couldn’t help but flush a little in embarrassment when she pictured the others watching her binge. But she was a simple girl of simple pleasures. Good company, good sport, and good eating were what kept her blood flowing, aside from the Life Gem, of course. One of Little Innsmouth’s many axioms rang true in her mind. Food is life. Dying of a curse in the future could really suck, but that was then, and this is now. If there was any chance of overcoming this nightmarish place, she needed strength for the road ahead. She could not bring herself to regret her decision. As the others made for the kitchen door to unlock the way forward, she picked herself up from the table and hopped down to the floor, the unopened sardine tin held under one arm like a bookbag. With it, she could stave off hunger one fish at a time going forward, or even save the life of someone who collapsed from starvation. Nadia made just one more stop, recovering her fan from where Junior dropped it in his mad rush for food, as well as the magnet that slipped from her grasp earlier. It stuck to the side of the fan, and with the makeshift straps still intact she put it on like a backpack and scampered over to join her friends. Even after she arrived, however, she still didn’t notice that she was subtly, almost imperceptibly, taller.

It took a little boosting to reach the doorknob, since this place still seemed larger than it logically should be, but the key fit the lock. Tension filled the air as it turned, inner mechanisms sliding steadily, until finally there came the all-important click and the padlock dropped to the ground with a thump. The kitchen door swung ajar, a pale light pouring through. The Runaway slipped through the gap, paving the way for the others to follow. Behind them, a handful of the most intrepid children among the captive lot pressed up against the Seekers, willing to risk an uneasy fellowship for the sake of escape. One by one the quiet, nervous procession filtered into the new area, wondering just what fresh hell awaited them this time.



But all they found at first, when the wooden planks gave way to neat brown tiles, was an innocuous larder. With shelves full of sauces, spices, wines, raw vegetables of dubious freshness, and other cooking ingredients, it held little in the way of horror. Nevertheless, the hookline carried onward overhead, the packages that dangled from it swinging side to side softly as they traveled. The Runaway followed them through the open doorway, where a short hall formed a right-facing T-junction, and made a right turn. Treading as softly as she could, Nadia followed him, but she could not avoid glancing straight ahead in the direction the parcels went. There, she saw a small room of a much more grisly nature. Parcels littered it, some bent oddly, and a big one poked out of what could only be a meat grinder, which the hookline passed right over. Splattered gunk smeared the floor and walls, and from the pots and buckets of unidentifiable meat sludge by the grinder issues such a revolting smell that Nadia’s lip curled. She hurried on her way.

When she reached the next room, however, she stopped cold. Before her stood a much bigger, better-furnished meat processing center, a far cry from the deplorable grinding room next door, and it appeared to be the terminus of the hookline. A huge heap of cheesecloth-wrapped parcels stood in one corner, and rows of meats, from sausage links and hams to steaks and racks of ribs hung from hooks above the counters. In the constant gentle motion of the Maw they swung in unison, strangely hypnotic. Nadia’s eyes, however, lay not on the butchery, but the butcher.

He was a grotesque spectacle. With folds of doughy flesh about as yellowed as his ill-fitting uniform, a rumpled chef’s hat atop a blobby, distorted face stretched like clay to a hideous, sagging broadness, and eyes that bulged from their sockets as they stared listlessly in to different directions, he bent single-mindedly at his task. Again and again he hacked into a hulking mass of meat with his cleaver, splashing murky blood across his cutting board, pausing only to bury his hands in vats of salt and pepper to rub into the flesh by way of seasoning. In terms of height the horrible cook outstripped Blazermate by a decent margin, and in a way he unnerved Nadia more than any of the monsters that preceded him. Bongo Bongo had been a terrifying apparition, but existed so far beyond the norm that Nadia could scarcely internalize it. Moreau had been a wretched thing, and in his mutated form awakened a primal fear in the way that only an apex predator could. In comparison this just seemed to be a gross man with a big knife, but the way he was so uncannily almost human, but not quite, made her skin crawl.

At least he had yet to notice the uninvited guests piling up on one side of the butcher room, already spreading out to hide beneath tables and counters. Nadia wondered if they had enough manpower, child forms taken into account, to actually fight this grisly chef. Still, if she could sneak past, that would be her first choice. There appeared to be two exits: one continuing east and one to the south, which featured a deadbolt lock. The Runaway’s pointed finger indicated a shiny key by the cutting board on the table, but Nadia wondered whether or she could grab hold of a parcel and ride it across the room eastward if she clambered up the pile toward the hookline. Either way, the frontrunners would need to do something fast. There were too many would-be escapees to avoid detection for long.



When Albedo looked to his new friend he originally expected no more than a few spitballed ideas, but he soon got a lot more than he bargained for. In an oddly coincidental turn of events, Linkle recognized this place, if not from her own experience then at least from legend, and she wasted no time proving it. It became obvious that the obstacles of this section of the Old Mill would be no trouble for her, but in terms of exactly how the cheery Skullgirl managed to surprise him once again.

Rather than try her luck with the fans and falling objects ahead, Linkle manifested the power of ice, creating a frozen mass that promised to rise beneath the pair as long as she kept pumping magic into it. It was the exact same trick she’d pulled off to seal the Stranger in the ravine outside Snowdin, albeit in far less intense circumstances. With all the conventional running and jumping Linkle had done, Albedo had forgotten she possessed such an ability, perhaps foolishly, although the alchemist did not allow himself to waste any time with self-reproach. Nor did he make unproductive comparisons between Linkle’s icy elevator and his own solar isotomas, since while her method outperformed his in height and permanence, it also incurred a greater cost. Instead he rode silently, grateful for the warm coat that protected him from high-altitude winds and glacial chills alike, and waited to make the cat burglars’ acquaintance.

Linkle and Albedo arrived a few moments later, leaping from the top of the iceberg straight into the sneaky thieves’ hideout. Although little more than a corner loft with two sides open to the rest of the windmill interior, it managed to be a cozy little place. There were cushions, books, games, all sorts of things probably stolen from passers-by. The round window that provided a stunning view of the Alpine Skyline even featured curtains. So sudden and unexpected was the intruders’ circuitous method of entry that it took the cats completely by surprise. After seeing the sword in Albedo’s hand they jumped, yowling, and ran to hide among their pillows, toys, and curtains, but the paws and tails sticking out made their attempt all the funnier. Clearly the pint-sized pilferers never thought anyone would make it up here.

When he realized that the cats intended to do no more than cower, Albedo shrugged and went to retrieve his sketchbook, lying neatly on top of a small pile of other reading material. Linkle’s crossbows, meanwhile, could be retrieved from where the felines playing with them dropped them, that being on the floor. “Somewhat anticlimactic,” the alchemist observed idly. “But for the better. I doubt they’ll mess with us twice.” He moved to the edge, considering a way back down the mill, the possibility that Linkle might want to interact with the cats further lost on him.

"Oh, yeah, please take this from me." Sakura had said, eagerly handing over the Dart Gun back to its rightful owner. Sakura had dropped it and picked it up multiple times, occasionally forgetting she had it at all.

Sakura grimaced as she saw more people eating. It seemed to be about half and half? Sakura's stomach rumbled, no, more like cried out in agony, but she remained resolute. She only wished she could have convinced more of her teammates to follow her lead. Sakura gave a particularly worried glance at Bella, who Sakura wished hadn't eaten food for almost the exact same reasons Bella had decided to eat them.

This Runaway kid was letting them go first, which made sense. Sakura wasn't comfortable with the idea of letting him put himself into harms way. Best the heroes go first, right? On the other side, things were getting a little more quaint, but the room was still way too big. Some parts of it looked really, really gross.

"Gross, huh?" Sakura whispered. "Reminds me of the stuff my dad had to throw out when he worked at his restaraunt."

But, quickly, what appeared to be a new enemy made himself known. A very large and sickly looking butcher who was contentedly chopping into some meat. No doubt he was complicit in whatever terrible situation the kids in the cafeteria had been put into. Sakura found herself wondering about what he was thinking in that moment. Did he like being a butcher? Or was he just doing this because some dark power was commanding him too? What was his name?

It didn't matter right now. If he found them, he'd probably put them back into jail or do something even worse. So far everyone with a position of power in this Maw had been a bad guy. If there was some relief, it was that whatever he was making food out of wasn't a person who lived in the World of Light. He wouldn't be turning any of them into chop suey. But he could probably swing that cleaver really hard, and Sakura instinctively brought a hand up to her neck and gulped. The Runaway kid pointed a key out to everyone. An unlocked exit was available. Since the lock was on this side of the door, that meant the Butcher was trying to keep people out. Sort of like how one would lock an exit from the inside to keep people from entering. It made sense that they would want to secure the key and leave through that door. Already opened doors probably meant going further into where more chefs and butchers were.

Sakura, being one of the frontrunners, turned around and put a finger to her lips. Then the brunette quietly paced over and crawled under a table. The last thing she wanted to do was get anyone detected. How could she help?

Well, they needed the butcher to be out of the way. Crawling under one of the giant tables, Sakura reached the edge of one that was somewhat behind him, towards the right exit door. Maybe if she made a mess, he would have to get a broom and clean it up? That might give them time to nab the key and then go from there.

Sakura crawled out from under the counter and then into it, standing on the wood. It felt kind of cozy, being so small. Locating a jar of preservatives that came up to her chest, she figured that would do. It was ontop another jar of something else, and ontop of that it would be falling from the wooden platform she was standing on, to the few feet it was to the ground. At least, it looked like a few feet. Sakura wasn't exactly sure how tall she was anymore.

With a quiet grunt, she pushed the glass jar off and onto the ground. When it cracked or broke, she ran for cover and hid behind a stack of bowls, pressing her back against it. Her stomach quietly growled and Sakura put a hand on her belly like she was trying to strangle it into silence, eyes widening.

---

With the explosive expert's fuse snuffed out, Mao figured it was better to be unconscious than potentially have him chose a side anyways. With uncertainty on how the hell they were to exit this arena, running probably wouldn't have ended well either. With a lack of empathy, the blood from the brutal assault left on his blade gave a very accurate representation of how he operated. Shifting the blade in his hand, he wiped one side off on his shoulder, before shifting it again to wipe the other side as well, the crimson not impacting his coat much, perhaps darkening it slightly, but that was about it.

Necronomicon's compliment didn't go unnoticed, but Mao admittedly almost scoffed at it purely out of how he'd receive praise for downing some human that didn't even have his weapon anymore. Not that he didn't take pride in it; An unfair situation was miserable for the opposition, and that brought joy to any real villain. "Of course!" A confident response, fitting for a moment of evil and overdramatic laughter. "Human anatomy! They're so fragile, any hit is just devastating." Ignoring the fact that he was about as humanoid as it gets (At least in physical appearance), he aimed himself towards the main remnants of the Resistance.

Reinhardt being down both in size and capability to fight any longer was noted, but Mao wasn't going for a minion this time. Limbs ready, blade ready, and magic as a last resort, Mao planned to use Fox, Joker, and Jesse's struggle against Braum and Sven as an opportunity to go after the boss. Who's to say if he went a little too hard on the shield and destroyed what it was protecting too, that it'd really be his fault? One out of three being dead wasn't too bad, right? At least he wasn't in-fighting. "Let's see how your little shield protects against THI-"

Mao was cut off as he was caught in Sven's AOE. What was intended as a threat turned into a joke as he poofed into a fluffy Poro. For a moment, there was confusion, Mao trying to look at himself in his smaller form but only seeing a giant tongue instead. Rolling it back into his mouth he turned into the angriest fluff you'd ever seen, steam practically shooting off of him as he deathly glared at the group for what they'd just done. His ample opportunity, damn it! Not having seen Braum use anything aside from his huge shield, Sven became the one Mao focused blame on, but had no way to react as he was forced to scuttle away from the fight in his cutesy form.

Braum shaking the earth caused him to fumble and roll, getting blasted by Sven's magical vial sent the Porofied overlord back with an animalistic cry unbefitting of his usual nature. His horns dug into the sand, scratched against the metal below, before he finally plopped down into the sand completely. Poofing back to normal, Mao's eyes shot open and he sprung up to his feet, a shake of his head causing sand to fly off of him as he took quick observation of what was happening.

The gunfire ringing out, Mao now saw that Joker was going for Nastasia, knowing there would probably be a similar fate like he intended coming her way. That wasn't the ending he wanted, but maybe it was a sign. Mao was petty, brutally petty, but all things considered her actions, while absolutely disgraceful and deserving of his intended assault, didn't entirely have to be punished by his own hands. Kept his hands clean, at least of death, so he wouldn't have to deal with the goody-two shoes being on his case, yet he still might get what he wanted. Best of both worlds, his mind decided. Ah, genius... he thought to himself with a grin.

That large man with a now enlarged shield, Braum, had already been friend-hearted. Though Mao wasn't particularly aware of if you could use them as heals multiple times, he decided since the man had already saved him once, he might not try the same thing he did with Fuse. Instead, Mao took advantage of being blasted a short distance away by Sven's magical vial to make a move after Joker's stomp: Hopefully between the daze and Braum's now heftier shield, he could take an idea from Jesse's book and go for the legs.

Sven was a danger, but they had the numbers. With his constant tossing, Mao worried about approaching the homeless alchemist. Mainly because if he became a cute little animal again, he would be beyond furious. He knew Jesse had fancy tricks, and ranged weaponry, so he'd leave the guy as target practice now that she was returned to normal.

His move was clear; He took his longsword in both hands, and planned to dig it straight through the back of the jolly defender's legs in hopes of toppling the tower. Someone could heal him later, Mao figured. But for now, he needed to stop jumping about and saving the enemy.

---

The lack of an answer left Mirage feeling a little uncertain about the information he'd received thus far. He tilted his head, unsure if it was a delayed response or what, but once getting the door unlocked actually started he decided to move on and try to not think on it. Nervously he stepped away from the door, not wanting the lock to fall on his head, or something. And before long, they, along with their fellow captive, were off to a new unknown. He looked back with a bit of paranoia since they went first, wondering if this individual was an actual child, or in the same situation as them. Not wanting to voice such a thing and cause conflict though, he decided to simply keep an eye out. Even so, prisoners were prisoners, yeah? Teamwork made the dream work.

His face scrunched as they walked, catching whiff of a scent that was... Less than pleasurable. "The heck is that?" He questioned, feeling a sourness in his stomach from the scent, only causing more strife with his own hunger. Whatever it was, it smelled worse than a Leviathan patty. He momentarily managed to use that thought to distract himself from the horrid situation with how much he hated the King's Canyon arena, before the sight of that bad smell made itself clear.

"Those buckets look like giant meat smoothies." He simply stated with disgust, unable to accurately word just how much the sight bothered him. Man, now even meat was being ruined for him. At least the concept of porkchops seemed gross now, too. So that kept his mind off of his favorite food for the moment.

The sight of the butcher put Mirage on edge. He scooched against the nearest object to obstruct him from the bloated, fleshy figure. The audible sound of cleaver hitting flesh caused his eyes to widen, wondering if they'd be next if they got caught. Like hell he was going to find out, though. He'd much rather be a hiding rat than a butchered one. But where the hell were they supposed to go from here? He wouldn't know without a peek, so nervously, that's what he did.

Biting the inside of his cheek upon having to look at the flesh mesh that was the butcher, his eyes followed their new companion's gesture to a key. There was a locked door, an open one... Mirage wasn't sure what use he could be, but if a locked door took them here, to a giant doughy butcher man, then what if the second unlock was more of the same? And how exactly were they going to unlock it and escape without being swiped at by this guy? The thump alone would give it away, and then it'd turn into 'run or get chopped'. And some of them weren't very suited to running right now. "If we take the open doorway we could keep from being detected, that guy won't just... Not notice us unlocking the door like the last one, right?" He offered input, perhaps thinking of his mistakes the last time he messed up by making a lot of noise with Bongo Bongo.

Sakura turning around and gesturing for silence caused him a bit of confusion. He just nodded, figuring she might have the idea of not wanting to get the big guy's attention, but he soon saw that she was thinking the exact damn opposite. _{"Where is she going?"} He quietly questioned, concern growing as she climbed.

That jar falling sent him into full alert, however. He wanted to scamper along to the exit, but he also didn't want to be the only one doing so. If someone wanted to platform higher, he could offer Dart Gun assistance, but couldn't much climb up and parkour to the key by his own means. If they chose to scuttle along to the revealed exit now though, with how things escalated, they'd have Sakura to worry about. He wasn't about to leave anyone behind, so he decided to momentarily backtrack on his original suggestion and look around for a method to perhaps stall the butcher if they did get the key.

"Maybe we can use that distraction after all," Musing, he eyed the big pots on the hooks above. "If we can knock one of those down on him," He gestured towards the pots. "It might buy us enough time to get the heck out of here." But how? The Dart Gun wouldn't shake them off the hooks. It'd take more force. "I can still aim platforms, but I don't know how much else I can do." He felt bad, spouting ideas with no solutions, but he began to realize the logic of curse vs hunger. Not that he had an ample opportunity to go back and fix his mistakes. He muttered a _"Sorry." to acknowledge his inactive stance on the situation.

It was a relief to know that Tora and Poppi were alright after what looked like a brutal battle. She would have to remember that the duo were more resilient than they looked, what with Tora's fluffiness and Poppi's maidenly form. Although the pair said they were fine, Tora went on to describe the hard won victory. It was clear just looking at the spirits of Beast and Dante what they'd done, and they were not taking it all that well. Then again, they seemed the overly heroic type. Primrose gave Tora a grim nod just to show that she was listening and that she understood, but she did nothing to reassure the nopon. She thought it might be disingenuous coming from her, considering her past and bloody personal goal. Surely they knew that sometimes it came down to you or them in a fight. Hopefully they could move past this particular kind of loss.

Primrose stood, putting some space between the pair and herself while Poppi reassured her creator of her feelings. The dancer was getting ready to rejoin what was left of the battle, though she mirrored Tora's glance back at Earthquake when he brought it up.

"It wasn't easy," she commented. She could only imagine that there were bruises already beginning to show where the heavy weighted end of the bandit's weapon had pelted her. She didn't spare Earthquake much thought after that, going after Tora and Poppi back into the fray after they'd dealt with Daisy.

It seemed things were drawing fast to a close. Her one on one fight must have taken longer than she'd thought. Though nearly magic-ed out Primrose still had some fight left in her, and she ended up joining in with Skull, Panther, and Fox during their all-out attack. Her silhouette showed her reclaimed dagger in hand as she flitted to and fro in a deadly dance, but it was cut short by the spiky brown haired boy. After being thrown back Primrose decided that was enough, and she watched the rest of the proceedings while leaning against a nearby pillar. It was dramatic, and even a bit terrifying when the mage duo looked like they were going to unleash some awesome power, but it ended well enough with a heartfelt declaration.

Scratch that, it ended bittersweet when Azwel drew everyone's eyes to the execution he preformed. It was cold blooded, a stark contrast the defensive killing that their own Tora and Poppi had done. Considering that Azwel hadn't died from his wound, something Primrose herself had made sure of, the killing was just wrong even if he claimed it was payback. Primrose narrowed her eyes from behind her mask. If there was any last sentiment that the Grimleal weren't as bad as their aesthetic made them out to be, this would wipe them away. She remained wary of the two captains as they made their way out, but once they were gone she sighed and shook her head. There were still more survivors than not out of the Resistance. They had to take some wins where they could get them, she supposed.

The topic of freeing the resistance from the clutches of Galeem's mind control wasn't much of a discussion at all, given that all of the Seekers were for it. Primrose was feeling eager to put another heart to use, almost as though to make up for the one she used on Azwel. She pulled the glowing pink heart from her chest, looking over the Resistance members, though once more her attention was brought to Earthquake by Tora.

Primrose actually laughed, despite the situation. It was quiet and quick, but it'd happened all the same. The cute nickname on top of the genuine affront Tora seemed to feel on her behalf just tickled her heart.

"I've faced nastier," she assured the nopon. Earthquake was vulgar and rude, but there were far worse men out there. If they could even really be called men. While Band restored the ninja, Primrose decided to put her own friend heart to use. In a somewhat expected move, the target for her friend heart was the spiky haired youth. If she recalled correctly he had suddenly appeared in the middle of the fight, though she wasn't sure of his role. He could have even been an innocent bystander, brought into the fray against his will. Whatever the case the battle was over now, and Primrose knelt beside Sora to press the friend heart into his chest. In no time at all the others had finished up their healing and spirit smashing, and collectively they all made their way out of the temple - and even faster they were already being urged to check in with the other team.

It wasn't a bad idea. They had little contact with the other half of their group, and if they needed help then it would be better to get there sooner rather than later. Even if it meant more running around. Primrose took a deep breath, summoning as much energy as she could muster. Her magic would recover somewhat during the trek, so at least she had that.

"Do you still have a way to talk with Alibaba?" Primrose asked, looking at Fox. "It might be good to know what we will be walking into."

Or who knew, maybe with some luck the other team were already on their way back. Regardless, Primrose prepped herself for a sprint across the city and fell into step with the rest of the group as the headed out as back up.

”To make it more enticing? Or it is simply that all the food is bad, and it’s not so much a set trap as it is a… base reality of this place?” Kemek replied to Link’s questioning of the trap information. It was true, it did not feel like a traditional trap. If someone from his world had made one, like, say, Bowser for example, the food would have been sitting on a fine serving dish in the middle of the room under a grand spotlight. But whether that made it not a trap, or just an even more insidious one, he could not say.

There was one other discussion of the curse, and that one was regarding the source of information, which Kamek also interjected himself into.

”As for the reliability of the source of this information… She was a member of the organization 13, which the Master of Masters, who himself has been nothing but helpful I might add, did not have very good words about. Or.... I’m forgetting the specifics at the moment, but their group they share their namesake with did not exactly have noble ends. A gang of nameless shadows seeking to control the heart of all worlds or some other sort of villainy”

”to put it in perspective without the Master of Master’s words backing me up, our source on this place also suggested it was the best way to reach our goal. Make of that what you will.”

“So it is safe?” Rika asked, making the rather straightforward assessment that anyone who said this was a good way of going about things had to be lying through their teeth.

”I would not say that but- Rika no” Kamek grabbed her by the hem of her skirt to stop her giving in ”please don't. I know it hurts, but as Sakura said, most of those who are more than mere children have eaten. If something does happen to them, then we will need you and your cannons to carry the day”

Rika nodded very reluctantly at that and then more resolutely responded “Ok. I trust you”

”Thank you,” the old mage replied with a grateful smile, before addressing the others ”I think it may be best if we hedge our bets here. Half have eaten already, what is done is done. We may as well make it part of our strategy and make it so one half eats and the other abstains. That way if one falls to the curse of food or hunger, then the other group is still numerous enough to still carry the day.”

Things looked like they were going to turn out that way regardless, but making it group policy would hopefully stop any second thoughts on either side (now was not the time for regrets to be getting in the way of things) or bickering between the hungry and the full.

Though by the looks of things the source of temptation might not be around for much longer.

While the abstainers had talked, Bella had spent some ammunition and blasted a way through the bars separating them and the cafeteria, and the half of the group whom Kamek had spoken of had rushed inside to fill themselves.

Or, in some cases, gorge themselves. Bowser managed to outdo even the pig-like behemoths, the king’s naturally voracious appetite coupled with his bouncing up and down and all over the previous room led him to devout great swathes of the not particularly nice but certainly filling food.

His son’s consumption by comparison was somehow beaten even by even Mimi, the specter hiding away several times its own volume beneath its ragdoll-like disguise. It wasn’t very clear if it was all being eaten or if it was being stored for later. Having stuff for later certainly a good plan, and it was an idea Jr also had. Or if he was forced to tell the truth that was an excuse to leave the rather stale food on offer behind to go towards the allure of the colorful vending machines.

Unlike the others, he really was a child rather than a temporarily embarrassed adult, and thus very much still had a child's palette. And that pallet demanded sugar, which quickly led to a loud crash as the little vandal used his dad's hammerhead to smash open the glass fronts of the vending machines in order to pilfer the contents.

This resulted in the boy being mostly fueled by soft drinks (and some soup) instead of the cooking that had been provided to the penniless prepubescent prisoners, potentially turning him into an unintended wild variable in the sudo experimental split of fed and famished. If that hadn't been the case Kamek would have insisted the boy ate something of actual value. He had certainly had to do so in the past.

They boy’s liquid lunch did turn up two things of note. The first was a gift box from the vending machine, which contained some outdated piece of fashion that was quickly replaced with a large number of soda cans.

As for the second: ”Wow, that's a cool bottle” was Jr’s reaction to finding the octopus themed bottle in the retro futuristic machine, hauling it out (he’d used a stool from one of the benches to climb up inorder to do his raiding) and then hefting it round to show off ”hey papa, look at this”

”Hmmm?” Bowser looked over from where he had been thoroughly engrossed with emptying the tables to see his son holding the bottle. It was quite the stylish looking one but it also reminded him of the ones that smelled like Bacchus’ breath and of that he did not approve.

”Maybe let someone else drink that one kiddo”

”Awww but daaaad”

”No buts.” Bowser replied, before noticing the pile of empty cans around the vending machine ”Also how how much soda have you been drinking?”

”... hey Ace! Catch!” Jr called out to the Ace Cadet, before underhandedly tossing the glowing octopus themed bottle to the monster hunter and then saying ”Hey look, Link got the door open, lets go!” and hurrying off after the hero, leaving Bowser to sigh, stuff one last morsel in his mouth and then collect his things to follow after those who had gotten a move on already. Rather sluggish at that, because he was very, very full.

Jr, with his gift box of cans under one arm and minions at his feet, joined the procession of children milling through the halls that Bowser’s forged key had opened for them (and was eventually caught up by his father (hammerhead and goo can in tow) to receive his admonishment for his diet, which was stern talking to and the handing over a can so the king could sate his thirst)

Near the front, meanwhile, Rika popped the winged key back in a pocket and then fished the half a scissor out and asked “anyone want this. As a uh, knife, or something?”

”shh” Kamek instructed for quiet ”Let's try and avoid attracting whatever monster haunts this floor, yes?”

They found it soon enough. After passing a giant meat processor who’s (smell made the beaked Kamek wish he could close his nostrils even slightly like those with fleshy ones could) they peaked their way into to real kitchen, where they found a grand and grotesque chef hard at work butchering the contents of the hook carried parcels.

Or the front runners did. Both the royal koopas had a gaggle of nonspeaking children to contend with if they wanted to get ahead, but there wasn't a great need in their knowledge, so instead they attempted to strike up a conversation or, in Bowser’s case, attempt to reduce the worried looks their, to the kids, monstrous forms were causing (”Hey, how's it going?” ”Don’t worry, we're not going to eat you. We’re already full ha ha… That’s a joke. We’re getting you kids out of here”) leaving Kamek and Rika up front to ponder how they were going to mitigate their inevitable detection.

You did not just miss a swarm of tiny children for long, especially when one of them (Sakura) was shimmying up onto your counters to do goodness knows what.

Mirage, at least, had a plan he was going to vocalize and that was to try and knock down the contents of one of the meat hooks on top of the freaky giant butcher.

“I can help do that” Rika informed him, raising her guns and teetering just a little as fatigued legs lost some of their support in the process of the change in angle “I think? If I can get a good angle anyway?”

”Maybe...” Kamek agreed cautiously ”but not quietly. We should keep that in our back pocket, only use it if we get spotted, I think?”

“So like the hand guy? I’ll find a good spot to shoot from then” She replied, before seeking exactly that out, leaving Kamek to slowly and carefully seek out a path towards the other end of the room.

Bowser and co were meanwhile only just arriving when Sakura started to execute the finals section of her plan, having only time to take in the monster and asking themselves what the street-fighter was doing before things went horribly right or wrong for her.

Easy, Nadia, the excitable feral told herself, taking one breath at a time. Though certifiably creepy, this chef wasn’t nearly as bad as Moreau or Bongo Bongo. Getting around him might be tricky for a cutlet-sized child, but she had food in her belly and fire in her heart. I can do this. “We can do this,” she said aloud, correcting herself in a whisper strong enough for her gathered allies to hear but much too weak to reach the chopper’s ears. With renewed vigor she could afford to wear her most confident smile while she not just broke but totally annihilated the tension. “The steaks are high, and we don’t wanna risk a meat ‘n greet, but we’re stroganoff to make it through.”

Rather than waste time making her allies reconsider the value of their lives with terrible puns, Sakura got right down to business. The savvy girl shushed Nadia with a finger to her lips, then emerged from hiding with a plan of attack in mind. Spurred on by both the restlessness of hunger and an even stronger desire to contribute, she maneuvered across the room in search of a distraction. Nobody really knew what the plan was, if one even existed, but it was clearly time to hustle. After the chef proved to be pretty much fixated on his work, the rest of the children fanned out even more, crouch-walking to various hiding spots to avoid the telltale slap of shoes and soles against the cold tile. Assuming that the gaggle of kids would be heading for the unlocked door, rather than try and tear the chef away from his butchery long enough for someone to grab the key, Nadia circled around behind him going north. She almost scurried over the meat parcels piled up in the northwest corner, but realized that their paper wrappings would crinkle if touched, and settled for padding with almost cartoonish delicacy across the open floor.

Keen-eyed as ever, Nadia spotted Sakura as the brunette hefted a jar, and in a flash she realized what was about to happen. Using drawer handles like a ladder she rushed up onto a nearby countertop, then dove into a (mercifully empty) pot. Then a terribly loud crash shattered the peaceful quiet of the kitchen, and a sound erupted from the chef that froze Nadia stiff. It was loud, sudden, like the blast of an elephant, an abrupt yet windy scream that sounded almost as afraid as it did angry. With that outburst the chef spun around, cleaver in hand, and slouched forward toward the source of the noise. As they felt the ground hudder with every footfall the children scattered through the kitchen shrank into their hiding spots in fear. A moment later the chef came to a stop in front of the smashed jar, looming over the wreckage. In apparent frustration. He scanned the counter, looking back and forth. After a moment he seemed to note the shadowy space beneath the countertop, just behind the debris, and with a grunt he knelt down to extend a pudgy arm and feel around down there for any unwelcome visitors. When his search turned up nothing, however, the chef gave a frustrated grunt and stood. With his loathsome head mere feet away from Sakura’s hiding place, he reached up sausage-like fingers into the folds of his chin, then beneath them, slipping underneath a layer of doughy, jaundiced skin to scratch at the flesh beneath. If the small street fighter risked a peek, she could catch the most fleeting glimpse of much darker, gray-blue skin underneath what could only be a ghastly mask.

Just then the east-side door slammed open, a commotion far less expected than the reaction of the chef. Into the room barged an even bigger butcher, albeit one more identifiable human. Foregoing the proper if rumpled chef’s attire of his coworker, he favored a shirt soaked by both sweat and blood stretched thin by his remarkable girth. “What was that noise?” he demanded, looking straight at the malformed chef. “You drop something again?”

The chef made an angry noise, somewhere between a growl and a honk, which left the newcomer irate. Two missing front teeth added a little hiss and a little spit to everything he said. “Bah, why’d I bother? Bumbling fool. Keep this up and you’ll be the next main course! Ahahahaha!”

Bellowing another elephantine retort, the chef reached an arm across the counter and swept up a whole stack of bowls, slinging them across the kitchen. Being made of cheap wood they clattered harmlessly against whatever they hit, be that the tiles, the door, or Larry Chiang himself, who laughed it off. “Ahaha, that’s right! Just like that...HEY!”

He thrust an accusatory finger right at Sakura, who in a most unfortunate turn of events the chef had unwittingly revealed. Whether she took off running or attempted to fight, the chef turned and lunged with impressive speed, seizing the wriggling girl by the throat and ankles. Like the jaws of a bulldog his meaty mitts locked around her, totally immovable.

The Abyssals reacted immediately and without hesitation. From her vantage point Rika appeared with guns at the ready, while Bella emerged from hiding with a spin, looking over her shoulder as her tail prepared to fire. Nadia, still hiding in her pot with only her fingertips, folded-back ears, and upper head over the rim, watched as the Abyssals took their shots. Just as planned, Rika blasted one of the hooks to knock off its load. With the nearest being one on the hookline, that meant dropping a meat parcel right onto the chef’s head, crushing his toque in the process. At the same time Bella shot the chef right in the chest. With an alarmed yell he flinched, staggering backward from the tiny explosion, but he did not drop Sakura. Larry, meanwhile, drew back his off hand and with a grunt of exertion hurled a kitchen knife straight at Bella. She got out of the way not a moment too soon, and the blade embedded in the wooden leg of a table behind her, but as she readied another shot Larry lowered his head and charged like a bull, arms extended. “MEEEAT!” he howled, zooming across the kitchen. Before Bella knew it he clasped a hand around the throat of her leviathan tail and hauled her into the air, dangling like a hooked fish. In his other hand hung Rika, grabbed by her gauntlets. “Live ones!” he marvelled, sounding surprised. He gave both a good, violent shake, quelling their struggle. “That damn janitor must be getting lazy!”

Nadia’s grip tightened on her pot. Part of her, maybe figuring that these crazy cooks could only hold so many kids, wanted to leap out and join the attack. If everyone struck at once, their numbers advantage would surely put them on top, right? But at the same time, her heart was beating wildly, like a drum in a hailstorm. Larry had just inadvertently let slip a small but crucial detail about the meat, one that chilled her to the bone. And even if she managed to shoulder that terrible knowledge, there were more practical concerns at hand. These enemies were tough, strong, fast, and perhaps worst of all, clever. When it came to horror, not being an idiot meant even more for predators than it did for prey. What could she honestly do?

Then again, could she live with herself if she did nothing? Although she’d known them for less than a day, these people were her friends. How in the hell could she cower and let these freaks turn them into hamburger? No doubt the others felt the same. Not one of them would stand idly by. As all the cafeteria kids except the Runaway fled Nadia clenched her teeth and leaped from the pot, her fan held up like a shield. “Hey, uglies!” she yowled, running over to a few loose carrots. “Over here!” With one airburst at a time she sent the carrots flying, a volley of orange missiles.

As soon as children started appearing in force, wielding various weapons, Larry reconsidered the situation. The arrival of Blazermate, however, sealed the deal. “Gah! They’re everywhere!” The outburst of his fellow chef caught his attention, and when he made a run for it, Larry followed suit with another armored charge. Nadia ran after them, not even thinking about what would happen if she actually caught them, but it quickly came to nothing. Amidst a hail of projectiles the butchers absconded, slamming the eastward door behind them. Nadia slowed to a stop as she heard a padlock click into place on the other side, at a loss for words. Just like that the children were alone again, down three of their number, and armed with the knowledge that the three little girls might end up as mincemeat any second.

“Ahahaha, you kids settle down, now!” came Larry’s voice from the other side. “We’re gonna take our time makin’ the most of our fresh meat! Just sit tight and wait your turn. Hahahahaaaah!”

With the way east sealed only two options remained. One was the locked door to the south, the key by the cutting board now unprotected. The other, Nadia realized as she looked around, was a tiny vent not too far from the door. She scurried over and yanked it open, but even after leaving her fan behind, she realized that she could not squeeze through. By the smallest of margins, she was too big. “Grgh!” she grunted, trying in vain to fit her shoulders inside. Even if she somehow manages to clear the entrance, she’d be too stuck to advance any further unless painfully shoved through one centimeter at a time. “I can’t…guh!” It took some help to pull her back out. When she stood, frustrated, she realized with a little surprise that she stood taller than any of Mirage, Link, or Geralt. “Wait, what? I thought...I mean, nevermind! We’ve gotta save ‘em! Hurry and squeeze through”

Peach laid a hand on her shoulder. “Just a moment,” she squeaked. “I want to save them as much as you, but not everyone can fit through there, and those butchers could be waiting right on the other side! If we blindly rush in we could be throwing our lives away!”

“But we’re practically throwin’ theirs away if we don’t! Ugh!” Nadia kicked at a nearby table leg in frustration, predictably stubbing her toe. “Ow, oogh!” She shook her foot out and winced after placing it, her anger plain to see. “Well...what are we gonna do? Push through? Go around? Look for a key? This might be the only way in!”

Doing her best to keep her composure, Peach did her best to come up with an answer, giving the others a chance to do the same.

---

"Ah, right! You could knock them off." Mirage replied to Rika with some enthusiasm, glad to have some sort of plan forming. Kamek urging caution was reasonable, Mirage himself not wanting a direct fight with this fleshy butcher if he could help it, but as individuals jumped into their positions it became clear that, unfortunately for everyone, the jar shattering did indeed send the doughman into alert. Mirage thinned himself as much as he could behind the leg of a table, peeking out to see what the butcher exactly did. He seemed agitated, maybe a bit concerned with how such a thing happened, but Sakura didn't seem exposed.

As his search failed, another man came in however. He was loud, startling Mirage but he didn't intend to budge, if these two were going to fight. Nothing was more toxic than two cooks in a kitchen, so if they had some luck, these two would start brawling and they'd be able to just watch them weaken eachother down. Escalations showed that this could've been the case, this new man threatening to turn the other into the next meal. Bowls flying in the air in retaliation, but unfortunately from Sakura's hiding spot, causing her to be revealed. "Shit," A mutter in his childish voice, cursing all the same as a reaction to one of their own being in danger.

Despite their plan going into action, the doughy chef didn't take as much damage as Mirage had hoped as the meat slab conked him on the head. And Larry's addition to the chaos meant they were at a larger disadvantage than before. Rika and Bella both being snatched up, and referred to as meat, was an instant message to do whatever he could. These sickos were going to eat their friends, and after all they'd been through on this stupid ship, nobody was becoming a meal today!

Scuttling out under the cover of Nadia's assault, Mirage didn't want to allow the butchers to escape so easily. Desperately he popped off multiple darts, trying to land them in such a way as to block the door, but he failed miserably as the door slammed and the darts stuck to the side of it, the projectiles simply being too slow. This was soon followed by Mirage's little fists slamming against it in irritation, as Larry taunted them from the inside, locking the door.

"Hey! HEY!" Angered by the outcome, Mirage slowly came to a stop as he realized he needed to conserve what he had left. He slowly slid into a slump in front of the door, momentarily staring at the floor at a loss for what to do. Seeing all that meat now was worse than before; Knowing these freaks were willing to cut up living people, children even, and turn them into a paste or a sausage. They tried so hard to keep everyone alive, they got through giant fists and acid rain! And now they were about to lose some of the group to a couple of fat cannibals?

Nadia finding a vent caused him to pull up to his feet, coming over to investigate. With her struggle to fit, or escape, Mirage grabbed hold and gave her a yank for the sake of getting her out. And it was only after that it came to light that... She was taller than him, suddenly. Or maybe he'd been too distracted by the struggle to notice before? Blinking away his confusion, he quickly snapped to the task at hand with the new disagreement.

"Look!" Mirage said between Peach and Nadia's uncertainty, tone being a bit more snappy, as he didn't have the time to snark at the moment. "Some of us are too big, and some of us can fit! If we don't find a solution fast, they're dead for sure!" Taking a long look at the area, he noted three potential options. "Maybe we can bash through the door with the hammer and some of the sharp stuff laying around, or maybe that key we were targeting could be a solution, yeah? We'll need an exit for if we get them out anyways, right? So some of us can try that or bashing the door if they can't get through!"

Tucking the Dart Gun away, Mirage approached the vent. A simple test told him he could fit, even if it hurt a little. It'd be a struggle to pull himself through, but he wasn't about to leave those three with no hope while fumbling around out here. "I'm goin'. I don't know what I can do in there, but maybe I can at least mess up their plans a little and stall for time." With a nod towards the group, he didn't hesitate to cram himself into the vent to start crawling. He wasn't sure if anyone else was actually coming with, but whatever the case was, he was pushing on.

Only now, as she was hiding, did Sakura realise how little she had thought this through. Why was she here again? Cause a distraction, right. But she didn't even tell anyone the plan. Still...this could work! All she had to do was hide, and one of her faster teammates would snag the key. Then...step 2. They would improvise that part. If they didn't grab the key, then she would just hide as he cleaned up the mess and they could try again, right? Sakura began to worry her mental faculties had been comprised by the hunger, something she hadn't even thought about being an issue.

Sakura tensed up, freezing in place as the butcher let out a horrible screetch. Wow, she thought, he must really like to keep this place clean. Her heart was beating out of her chest as he loomed over the mess. Squeezing her eyes shut, she clenched the hem of her dress as the big chef searched around, his face only a few feet from her. Thankfully she was hiding behind the bowls, and he didn't think to investigate behind them.

If everything had gone according to her plan that only Sakura came up with, this distraction should give someone time to snatch the key, right? She had gone undetected! Maybe, she thought, this wasn't a bad plan after all. Could have been better executed but, she could work on that in the future.

No, because another chef entered, a big tall guy, and the brunette knew her 'plan' was right out the window. Cheeks reddenning with embarassment and shame, Sakura realised she had just made their problem ten times worse. Why hadn't she learned her lesson? Everytime she tried to help, she just made things more difficult.

That would soon be the least of her concerns as the angry chef, being chastised by his cruel boss, began sweeping things off the counter and making an even bigger mess. Accidentally revealing the little girl hiding behind them. Freezing up, tears welling in her wide eyes, she made horrified eye contact with Larry and then his butcher minion.

"I- I'm sorry." She squeaked to both the chef and to her teammates, before turning to run in a panic. "Ah!" She cried out in pain and then gasped, shallow and strangled, as a giant hands squeezed her entire upper body starting at her throat. Kicking her legs was pointless as he grapped those, too.

Sakura had never hated anyone more than she hated herself in that moment. Now she just hoped that he snapped her neck right now, so that her stupidity didn't compel her teammates out of hiding and into a certain loss. But no, Rika and Bella, the two people Sakura thought she had done the most good for, were swiftly captured and hurt in their attempt to rescue her. All because of her. They were all so tiny and helpless. "Nooo---" She quietly exhaled, despairing.

Suicidal self loathing passed, and she realised that she really really really wanted to live, too. Tears streaming down her face, she desperately searched the faces of her now distant teammates for some kind of salvation or plan, but none came. How could it? One last look at her friends and the door was shut and locked.

Larry announced his plans with devilish delight. The butcher who had her still hadn't done anything, and poor Bella and Rika had been shooken into a stupor. Sakura didn't struggle, looking to avoid punishment or reprisal. It would be pointless, anyway. At the very least she could keep her wits about her. Trembling, arms pressed against her sides, and struggling to breathe, she glanced around the room and tried to locate something useful. It was hard to see through her blurred vision, and she tried to blink away the water in her eyes. Captured, the distance from her friends was insurmountable, and Sakura tried not to think like they would never see her again.




That was one down. The armored crusader knight, Reinhardt, either couldn't or didn't block the shots from her Tool Gun. That was his mistake, as he was quickly smacked and pushed to the side by a large chunk of metal. No doubt that had rattled him inside his armor. As she went to focus on Sven, Braum, who had quite inconveniently switched sides, protected Sven with his shield.

Sven jumped high into the air, and it was too late for her to do anything. She just didn't have the tools that she used too. Jesse shield her eyes with her arm from the potion, but when she looked back down at her arm she realised it was a cats arm.

(...We're a cat now.) Jesse thought. Polaris conveyed a mental shrug.

(Um.)

"Meow." She licked the back of her paw, briefly getting into character. Shaking her head, watched as Sven came charging forward with a great variety of potion attacks. This, too, reminded her of that homeless guy. Rolling and dodging around as this rotund cat, she took a few grazing hits but nothing too serious. Magical poofing saturday morning cartoon potions. The acid flasks, however, caused Jesse to meow hesitantly. That wasn't good. It was Fox who came to the rescue, getting into melee range with a manic acid wielder was brave, but he paid the price for it.

This was some kind of polymorph spell, like from Harry Potter or Dungeons and Dragons. Those usually didn't last forever, and Jesse guess that she wouldn't be this adorable cat for much longer. If it really was permanent case he probably would have used this ability much sooner, and on everyone. Braum was charging towards the wounded Fox, and Sven was temporarily vulnerable.

Poof!

(And we're back!)

Mao went for Braum as he charged after Fox. Hopefully the melee fighter kid could hold him off long enough for Jesse to take care of Sven. Meanwhile, Joker went for Nastasia. Hopefully he was fast enough to avoid being brainwashed. Jesse still thought her Tool Gun plan would work against Sven, now that he was exposed and wounded.

In order to help Mao and Fox, Jesse ripped some metal from a pillar and flung it at Braum's back. It would smack against his super strong form but still crush painfully into him, rattling and knocking him off balance to aid Mao's topple attempt.

Now aiming for Sven's sliced up abdomen, she focused her Tool Gun's effect onto that one specific part. Like one of those guys drom Dig Dug, Sven would be woefully imbalanced as his center of mass grew in size with each shot. Once his legs couldn't touch the ground anymore, she was satisfied. While she had been a cat, her Energy still recharged. Lifting a piece of fallen metal from the ground, she smacked it into his side to send him rolling out of the way of the battle and out of potion range.

As she considered her next move in all the chaos, she switched to her Service Weapon. Holstering the Tool Gun, her other, much sleeker and deadlier, black pistol reappeared in her hand. Back to full ammo, she needed to give the Tool Gun some time to recharge, too.

Well, it seemed either Galeem's influence was stronger than his will, the blue girl's mind control was greater than his will, or this Shadow creature was just a fool. All most likely, but that was neither here nor there. As Sectonia was ready for Shadow's next attack, she managed to dodge his much stronger Chaos Lance with a blink of her own. Seeing as he was using far more powerful attacks now in sheer annoyance or rage, Sectonia wasn't sure which nor did she really care, but this did give her an idea.

Having blinked away, she positioned herself so that Shadow's next attack would go crashing into Sven. This would end up being a good idea, as Shadow launched himself towards Sectonia in a sphere of darkness. And playing into her hands Shadow barreled towards Sven as Sectonia blinked out of the way of his physical dash. With that done, Sectonia then gave herself and her allies haste, making sure not to take her eyes off of Shadow. He was strong, stronger than the rest of the enemies here, and probably too strong for some of her minions, so she would keep his attention. And the haste should help her minions out either way, Shadow seemed to be able to dispel the slow.

After the fighting was finished, Yoshitsune's first order of business was to produce a friend heart for the Witch Doctor he'd been fighting. After failing his first time, he turned and watched how the others did it, producing one shortly after. With a quick attack that didn't do any more damage, he shoved the heart into the woman. After waiting a couple seconds, he held his hand towards her, showing her friendliness and keeping his hands away from his sheathed blades. "The battle is over."

Even if she understood now that she'd only been part of the Resistance thanks to Nastasia's brainwashing, the Witch Doctor remained full of misgivings. Though the friend heart undid her wounds, they still stung her pride, and she could not look at Yoshitsune impartially. Defeat did not mean friendship. Shaking the hand of the man who'd mocked and wounded her would be too much. So she averted her gaze and looked at the floor, murmuring, "So it is."

Convinced she was alright, the samurai turned towards the others who needed their hearts as well. Seeing the key-wielding boy, he was about to summon another heat, though could tell by the look on the boy's face that he'd already been freed from Galeem's influence.

Once the haze from Galeem lifted, Sora looked around in confusion. "What just happened?" he asked, rubbing his head.

"You've just been freed from Galeem," Yoshitsune started bluntly.

"What's a Galeem? A type of heartless? And who are you?" The boy was obviously very confused.

"My name is Minamoto Yoshitsune. I am a Samurai from Japan."

"A Samurai?!" Sora exclaimed, summoning his keyblade back to his hand. "You don't look like a Nobody."

Taken aback by the teen's reaction, the man held up his hands, his swords still sheathed. "Even nobodies can become great warriors."

"Do I have…" Sora seemed to be checking all his pockets for something. During his search, his Keyblade disappeared. He hung his head in defeat. "I don't have them…"

After watching the young teenager, Yoshitsune was confused. "What were you looking for? If you can magically summon things to your hand, try that."

"That only works for the Keyblade," Sora responded, summoning said weapon again.

"What were you looking for that you apparently don't have?" Yoshitsune inquired.

"Jiminy's journals. I was gonna show you the Samurai Nobodies," Sora sighed.

"I do not believe I'm one of these nobodies you're talking about," the samurai said calmly.

"How can I be sure?" Sora asked, eyeing the man.

"The world we're in now consists of the remnants of many worlds. My world is nothing like anything else I've seen upon traveling around here. I'm sure the others could explain it better." The samurai was mentally hoping for some help in explaining this.

"I've traveled to other worlds. Usually, Donald's magic would help us fit in with that world. My job is to lock the hearts of the worlds to keep the darkness away." The keybearer seemed all too happy about that.

When everyone began leaving the temple, the pair followed behind. Neither of them knew exactly where they were going, though Yoshitsune hoped it was to an inn.

Sora, Upon exiting the temple, looked around in awe. "This place looks like Agrabah," he said to himself.

Overhearing him, Yoshitsune was quick to stop him from running off. "This is Al Mamoon. You could get lost easily if you're not careful. Stick with the group."

Finally realizing he was out of his element, the teenager rested his arms behind his head with a sigh. "So, who is everyone?" Sora asked, looking at the entirety of the group.

Yoshitsune nodded and pointed at each person around them, making them, and saying whether they were with the travelers or if they were temporary allies from the city. Though, he did comment that he'd prefer the two large brutes, Big Band and Goldlewis, joined their travels.

Midna managed to get Ciella’s attention alright. Though her reply to Minda’s taunting, decrying the crimes of the resistance, made her feel like she was being gaslit into believing she hadn't actually told her what was at stake. Yet Midna knew she’d acknowledge Braum’s mind control, so in the princess mind she was sure she got it, and yet she did not seem to acknowledge that their foes were not acting of their own accord. It was maddening.

Still, there was little time to debate the issue as after giving her retort Ciella went on the offensive, drawing five of her great glowing arrows and letting them lose to banish the darkness Midna was hiding in. The initial draw took long enough for Midna to find and then skip to another shadow before their glow banished the darkness she was lurking within.

Unfortunately the arrows were not content to imbed themselves in stone and sand, and instead ricochet, scattering across the area. It was a cunning ploy, and even though the Princess took to (fakely) laughing at the avian archer with regal haughtiness, the sheer chaos of pinging shots had her heart racing in her throat for even one shot grazing close to a hiding spot would strike her down.

In the end it became to much, and the laughter fell silent as the princess instead skipped across the arena’s shadows, pinging under Mona to whisper ”On your right” to him, before appearing behind a pillar to his right, blocked from Ciella’s view. The princess, still battered and bruised and bleeding, gave the feline a pained grin. If he was still willing to help, she’d take it.

She also took a moment to help herself, retrieving a spin-plate from the twilight realm.

A few moments later she was back to dance with Ciella once more, but the woman had clearly had enough and moved to disengage, assuming that the princess’s taunting and posturing had been all bark and all bite. This was true but, of course, that was part of the plan. Though she would have liked to hold her foe in place with words longer now, as the harpy was distracted by the hedgehog and bee’s seeming endless brawl, was the time to strike.

She could not end her, and the amount she would have needed to wind up a punch to even hurt would have left her vulnerable, so the spine tile was the best option. It also left the princess laughing with genuine impish delight at the Ciella as she gracelessly pirouetted across the arena and into a wall. It might not have hurt, but it prevented retaliation and, more importantly, put her on the opposite side of the arena from where the action was. Pus it had all been worth it to see her spin now after the archer had managed to avoid doing so in the maze earlier.

Ciella’s exasperated snarling about her friends being in danger in response to this indignity made Midna glance back at the brawl she’d mostly been missing. A quick assessment of it (made after the polymorphs had ended, it should be noted) left her inclined to disagree.

”They look fine, so maybe just sit the rest of this one out? Or maybe dance with me some-” she was saying when the mist filled the arena and the giant bird-woman promptly vanished ”-fuck”

The dark filling the arena helped her a little at least, the princess immediately dropping into the now all encompassing hazy dark on instinct lest she have her head ripped off by the stalking titan.

”Think think think. Stop her. How do you hit something you can't see?” she asked herself, and then snapped her fingers as she had an idea.

The princess appeared to the side of the arena, between where Ciella started and where she would have to go to strike the remaining fighters. There, she summoned up her Vibrava, maxed out in size. The giant dragon bug gripped the stone and started beating its wings hard as it could without ripping itself from the ground, fanning the shallow scattered sand of the arena up into the misty air. Then, standing behind the wind blasting monster, Midna added her own sand to the mix, opening portals to the twilight realm and feeding the sunless deserts of her home into the current, blasting sand into the air and flooding the part of the arena where Ciella would have to pass through and go too with twilight realm’s ethereal white grains.

Maybe the mix of native and exotic sand could soak up moisture in the air and/or simply overwhelmed the foggy weather effect with her own sandstorm, Midna thought, but that wasn't what she was relying on. No, what she was relying on was an interesting quirk of twilight sand, and that was that it sang as it flew with the sweet sound of a siren. Right up until the point that it hit the other siren slinking through the sky.

Or so Midna hoped.

So she closed her eyes, perked her long pointed impish ears and, when she thought she heard the gap in the song of sand where the harpy crept, she used her shadowhand to hurl the last and most impactful of her office furniture, the busted vending machine from the elevator room, at the place she thought Ciella was.

On the other side of the door lay a pantry. How quaint. A variety of spices and ingredients arrayed before the little Seekers, Geralt paid them little mind as the group made its way forward. It was the room beyond this pantry that got Geralt's proverbial goat. Those bags of meat did not bode well, and the smell was absolutely revolting. His nose scrunched, his mouth pulled itself into a tight line, and he gagged just a bit. This place was wrong, and anybody with a few working senses could tell that immediately. Unfortunately, it was bound to get worse once they found the butcher himself, and get worse it did.

The butcher was a hideous figure, and Geralt could not tell if his face was some sick, twisted flesh-mask, or the creature's actual visage, though a not-insignificant part of him hoped that it was the latter. Quickly, the team shuffled about to find places to hide lest they prematurely provoke their foe's wrath. It seemed they had two ways to go, one which lead them beyond a locked door in a different direction, and one which continued their current path forward. Their impromptu guide pointed at the hanging key, wordlessly directing them through the locked door.

Geralt figured that the local had the best knowledge of how to get through this place, not to mention the fact that the door was locked, indicating a reason to have done so in the first place. While he was musing on this, Sakura took the initiative to set a plan into action.

Unfortunately, not only did she not warn anybody of her plan, she had also took the first step of her plan prematurely, as some of the others were only just entering the last room when her chosen jar fell and shattered against the ground.

That set the group off immediately. Nadia was circling around to the butcher's backside, Mirage wondered if they could drop something onto the butcher's head from above to stun or harm him, the Koopa Krew were just arriving and opining themselves on Mirage's idea, and Geralt was steadfastly remaining in his hiding behind a table leg. He might be able to use his nail to hurt the butcher, but the creature's size meant that only a very carefully aimed strike would yield any actual result. He would need to be careful about when and how he struck.

Sakura's distraction, ultimately, proved to be the opposite of that, drawing the ire of another, more angry butcher, and revealing her hiding spot through great misfortune and the new arrival's cruelty towards his co-worker.

When Larry swept his arm across the counter, scattering bowls about the place, Geralt stepped out from his hiding spot and began aiming. The constant movement, the ducking and grabbing, however, left him unsure about using what little energy he had left on what could very well be an ineffectual attack. Instead, he turned to the Koopas, Junior in particular, and tossed the weapon such that the youngest of the group would easily be able to catch it with any coordination. "Throw it like a javelin, and it comes back if you whistle!" Between Junior's superior physical form, and the fact that he wasn't starving like Geralt was, gave some hope to that idea.

It may have come too late, however, as the butcher managed to grab Sakura, Rika, and Bella, taking off with them into the unlocked room before the sound of a heavy padlock being closed crushed any hopes of immediate rescue.

Time was of the essence.

Sakura was gone. So were Bella and Rika, the proof that her kindness could do genuine, tangible good.

Geralt was going to slaughter those whoresons. He felt a familiar feeling slowly fill him- anger. Cold, resolute anger. The same kind he felt when he saw Nilfgaardian soldiers abusing people, the same kind he felt when somebody he was trying to help tried to cheat him out of his hard-earned coin.

The same kind he felt when he found Whoreson Junior and his den of depravity, wondering if Ciri had suffered the same fate as the other girls.

Geralt moved, pointing up towards where the key was. "Blazermate! Grab that key and take the locked door, bring Bowser and the others with you! The rest of us who can fit through that vent, we go. See if we can buy some time while the others search for a way around. They might be big, but if you've ever tried to swat a particularly motivated fly, you'll remember how much a disadvantage size can be." Looking at Peach, he shook his head. "Might be risking our lives, but there's not much hope for them if we sit here and debate it so long those whoresons turn them into the next supper!" Part of him wasn't pleased with bossing so many people around, especially since they'd had problems come from people jumping into action without the others' say-so before, but he was not going to let those girls get hurt. Not if he could help it.

"Stay and talk it out if you want, but I'm going with Mirage." With that said, he climbed up into the vent and started crawling after Mirage.

There was a crash of glass and then a scream of anger from the monstrous butcher that almost made Rika pop her shot there and then, but Sakura’s distraction didn't get anyone caught in and of itself. Unfortunately it instead drew in the ire of another butcher, this one human but for his size and, perhaps, temperament/ethics if the concept of ‘humanity’ still stood for anything in a world with a million other sentient species. Either way, in the end it was the fight between him and the twisted meat-prepper that doomed them. What Rika had prepared for came to pass as the ugly one hurled a pile of bowls at the other, inadvertently unveiling Sakura in the process.

There was no question as to what needed to be done in either her or Bella’s mind as both let their shots fly to try and save their shared friend, with Bealla’s stumbling the newly arrived one, while Rika followed through on Mirage’s plan, blasting one of the hooks and dropping a parcel of (what they learned a few moments later to be people) meat on top of the one that had caught Sakura. In hindsight, maybe she should have tried to hit the same one as Bella, because the mean drop failed to free her friend and, worse, the bald one rushed both of the ship girls, giving Rika only a moment to shrike before she was grabbed up by the gauntlets, hauled into the sky and then shaken about, rattling her brain enough to cause her to back out. The last thing she saw being the porcelain doll she’d been giving a piggyback tumbling down to the ground.

If the three ladies' capture did not go unanswered, not with the gang of heroic children with more bravado that sense around. Also, while they were not heroes, the two royal koopas certainly had the same level of sense as the good guys and so both cried out in alarm for their captured friends/allies and rushed to their aid without a thought along with the others.

Bowser leapt up onto the counter and proceed to hurl the goo can, the hammer-head and then a barrage of fireballs at their foe, while Jr gladly took the nail offered by Geralt and, after instructing Mimi to start shadow sneaking them as well, hurled it at the bald guy with superhuman strength and the (self proclaimed) skill of an Olympian javelin thrower. When it came to getting it back however, there was a problem.

”pff. Ffff. tffff how do you- pvvvvvv” jr asked/complied with growing panic and frustration, having not taken the time to learn how to whistle in his scant few years of existence.

”Like this young master” Kamek called from where he was hiding, before putting two fingers in his mouth and performing an excellently shrill whistle despite having a beak for a mouth, causing the nail to sore back to him. The mage stumbled backwards as it smacked into his shell, before recovering and relaying it back to the prince to throw, a process they’d repeat as much as they were able, right up until the two cooks fled.

And despite their collective efforts, took the three girls with them.

”GET BACK HER AND FIGHT YOU! YOU! GAAAAAH!” Browser roared. He ran after them and then shoulder charged the door like a chargin chuck. It cracked, just a little, but as he proceeded to beat on the door it was clear that he wouldn't be getting through it fast enough, even when jr (who diverted himself to grab the hammer head) joined in and formed a two koopa battering ram crew smashing at the door.

The others had saner, or maybe just faster ideas, which involved sneaking in through a vent, though for some reason it was only going to fit a small portion of the crew, namely a quadrette of heroic gentleman. Mirage lead the way, followed by Geralt and there wasn't that much doubt in the troops that the other two would be following soon after

”Here, Geralt, don’t forget this” Kamek called after the Witcher as he moved to sneak in through the pipe, the koop holding up the nail he’d just barley managed to whistle back before it got brought through. The slow turtle was a bit of a way’s off, but the weapon could easily be whistled over should Geralt take the moment to command its return.

”Mimi, go with them and help distract the big jerks!” Jr instructed his little mon ”We’ll uh...” he took a moment to recognize how futile he and his blindly enraged father’s efforts were going to be in the short term ”Keep them distracted? Drown out your approach!” he concluded, shouting over the hammering.

“Mi-mi!” the mon replied with a little salute and proceeded to, instead of following the others through the pipe, phased straight through the door to go be an even tinier nuisance than the others were going to be, one who had the distinct advantage of being able to, well, phase through solid matter.

You couldn't exactly grab or slap a ghost after all, which was a district disadvantage when it was trying to slash at your ankles or climb up your body to try and poke out your eyes.

”Oh. I forgot she could do that” jr noted, the last time she had done so having been back just after he’d caught her during the monster truck capturing fight, before going back to door hammering with his dad.

Kamek meanwhile turned right around after offering the nail and moved to head for the locked door. Assuming someone more limber would go to get the key he wanted to be on hand to lend his mind and eyes to figuring out what, if anything, on the other side might help them out.

---

---

---

The only thing that kept Link from being the first person into the vent was that he was currently puling at the knife the butcher had imbedded in the leg of the table with a frantic, mad desperation. He put one boot up on the leg, gritting his teeth as he wrenched at the blade with everything he had. The fact that it had sunk in so far was a testament to the butchers strength and in any other situation that observation might have given him pause, but he hardly even registered the thought. It didn't matter how large you were, there were places you could cut that made it impossible to get back up and Link was going to make those butchers feel every single one of them if only he could draw the sword.

It was funny, a few minutes ago he had almost hated Sakura when he had realized how right she was. He had just about been ready to dig in back at the cafeteria, the only thing stopping him being her pointing out that all the most capable members of the group had already partaken. That was the only reason he was on the hungry side of the group divide, that hesitation she had inspired. That was all it took for the decision to be made for him. He had snuck a couple of carrots when they were making their way through the pantry, shoving them into his boot just in case it got so bad he couldn't move, but that was it. He was starving. He was tired. He was too weak to draw the sword. He was too weak to save anyone.

Suddenly he felt a pair of hands wrap around his own. Looking up he saw Glenn take up an position beside him, gripping the knife and joining in on his puling. Had Glenn always been taller than him? It didn't matter right now, because between the pair of them they were strong enough. With a dull scrape the sword came free, sending them sprawling backwards. Link was barely on the ground for a moment before he was back up, adrenaline and rage and pure terror powering him as he ran across the room dragging the sword behind. He didn't stop to thank Glenn for the help before diving headfirst into the vent and dragging himself as fast as the ones in front would let him.

He was going to stop it this time.

He was going to stop it dead.

---

---

---

---

"HA!" Linkle said as she jumped off the icy pillar and landed amongst the cats, brandishing her gun as she did so. She couldn't help but feel disappointed when they scattered about the room to hide, and after Albedo stored his sword she lowered the firearm to let it hang on her shoulder and stepped forward to pick up her bows from where the cats had dropped them. Holstering them again, she had to agree with Albedo. "I was expecting some kind of boss cat or something." She said, hands on her hips, but cracked a short smile when she saw that one of the cats had drawn a crude self portrait in the wall with crossbow bolts. This whole setup they had here was too cute, way too cute for the hideout of a band of crooked thieves. More like a clubhouse for a bunch of kids that liked to play bandit.

Linkle had some experience with this. There was hardly a boy in her the village that hadn't, at one time or another, gotten covered in tiny boot prints for some naughtiness they had perpetrated in the sight of the villages smallest hero. If it was like that, though, these cats were playing a dangerous game.

As Albedo looked for a way down Linkle walked over the cat she had seen playing with her crossbows, who was cowering under a cushion. She bent down and, doing her best to copy the tone Imani had taken with her earlier, ripped the pillow away. "Hey, cat?" She said sternly as the thing jumped up. "If I hadn't stopped myself down there I would have kicked your head clean off your body!" She stood up to her full height. "I have a gun! I have skulls for eyes, and million voices in my head telling me to kill you! Maybe this was a cute game back where you're from, but there are dangerous people around here! If you had tried this on a guy I fought yesterday, he wouldn't even have climbed up like this. He would have demolished this whole windmill with one punch and never even would have thought about you again."

Maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but sometimes you had to put the fear into a kid to make them mend their ways. If you went out at night you got eaten by a Wolfoes, if you messed around in a Cucco coup you got pecked to death, and if you robbed the wrong adventurer they would kill you no matter how cute you turned out to be.

She leaned in close. "There are people trying to fix the world and get us all home, so until they do just hang out in your clubhouse, read you books, and don't pick fights." She sighed. "Now where's Albedo's pouch, and how do we get down from here quickly? We have somewhere we've got to be tonight and lots to do before then."

It was good, so good. Not the taste per se, the Cadet had definitely had way tastier food before. Breakfast at that tavern in Limsa for example. Even the makeshift lunch they'd had on that island. What this particular food tasted of was like being saved from the jaws of certain doom. He wasn't going to be starving to death today, that was for sure! Though he felt a little bad about not being able to resist with what he now considering the stronger willed members of their team, he couldn't really bring himself to regret it much now that he wasn't on death's door. While the others made to unlock the door and move on, the Cadet could feel his strength and stamina recovering little by little. At some point he did manager to rein himself in, reminding himself that he was only willing to tolerate a little bit of curse. Beside him, BB was still eating with all the enthusiasm expected of a still growing piglet.

"You Gobul up food faster than me," he chuckled, ruffling the minion's tuft of hair, "You sure you're not really a baby Nibelsnarf?"

Maybe when the curse started happening, with all the food BB was eating the baby behemoth might act like a conduit and siphon it away from himself? ...man, what was he thinking? He really needed to find these minion's mom, or drop them off somewhere safe that could do it for him. First though, getting through this awful submarine.

”... hey Ace! Catch!”

"Huh?"

Thankfully the Cadet's dexterity was returning too, catching the bottle Junior tossed his way with no problem. "Uh, thanks? What is this...?"

He turned the bottle over in his hands. Clearly it was a liquid of some kind. The vessel holding it was ornate, seemed like it might be alcohol? There wasn't any label, just a picture of... actually he had no idea what this was supposed to be. Some kind of monster or animal? It sort of reminded him of some old stories but— oh, there was some writing. Undertow...? he read, tilting his head. The name of the drink? It clearly was meant to be consumed, and maybe the little Koopa thought he might like this kind of thing? Honestly with how crazy stressful things had been, the thought of having a drink sounded pretty good. He glanced back at Junior but he (and the rest of the group) was already making for the exit. The Cadet uncorked the bottle and downed the contents. It wasn't a particularly strong spirit, in fact it tasted water down... with sea water. There was a saltiness to it that didn't mix well with whatever other flavor it was going for. Bleh. Oh well. Intending to catch up with the others quickly he started to make his way to the door.

"C'mon BB, let's—"

Wait, something was wrong. Ace Cadet felt strange, in kind of a bad way. C-curse? Already?! The other diners all seemed fine last time he checked! Then, maybe the drink? Alcohol + child body = not a good combo? Yeah, obviously that must be it... unconsciously The Cadet had clutched his stomach, but when he looked down at himself it wasn't his stomach that seemed wrong, but his hands. Swirls of mist and sea foam were appearing and disappearing all up and down his arms, along with angry red welts. The patches of skin that weren't already scarred from the acid rain were burning a bright unhealthy color, bubbling blisters forming rapidly. This was not normal - and either he was having some kind of incredibly bad allergic reaction, or he was currently getting cursed!

At some point the Cadet had stopped walking, horrified. Panic was growing fast in his chest, and the condition of his hands was getting worse just as quickly. Some of the blisters swelled to massive sized and imploded, opening gaping holes in his skin. His whimpering, rubbing and swatting at his arms had drawn a small crowd of curious captive children, the ones that weren't bold enough to follow after his team. His team that consisted of some other people that had eaten - he had to go tell them what was happening!

It was pure fear that pushed the Cadet back into movement, running as fast as he could and chasing after the tail end of the train of kids. Fear for not just himself but his friends too. There were a billion worst case scenarios flooding the Cadets brain right now, but there was also a familiar little voice of hope that said if they just got out of the Maw fast enough, or found a cure fast enough, they'd all be okay. So, he ran - following where he'd seen the procession go. There was a small mix-up at a fork in the hallway, but a crashing sound pulled him in the right direction and after that the Cadet burst into the butchery, slamming into one of the random unaffiliated kids who were currently scrambling in the opposite direction. They both careened to the ground, but the latter pushed themselves up in a hurry and dashed away. The reason was obvious: two huge men, grimy and blood stained. With captives. Sakura, Bella, and Rika!

What a situation he'd barged into. The concern he had for his friends was still at it's peak, but morphed instead to what he could see right in front of him. The trio of girls in danger. The rest of the group was throwing anything they could get their hands on at the two chefs, and the Cadet propelled himself towards the nearest things he could reach to join in. However, pelting the huge men didn't do much and they ended up escaping with the girls, locking themselves into another room. There was no pause within the team, they scattered to find a way to help Sakura and the Abyssals. Except for the Cadet, who took a moment to breath. Shaky, he lifted his arms up to see how bad they'd gotten since he last checked.

"...what?" His arms and hands... they looked completely normal! The Cadet inspected every inch of them, but there were no rashes, welts, or holes in his skin. No trace of the mist either, his skin wasn't even wet. There was no way he was mistaken, just a minute ago it looked like he had some kind of disease spreading from his arms. "???"

He wanted time to think about what was happening, but if they wanted to rescue the others there wasn't enough left to do that, as Geralt pointed out. Their lives were way more important than the mystery of his arms, so of course the Cadet nodded and went to crawl in after Mirage, Geralt, and Link - but he found that he didn't quite fit. Not wanting to get stuck like Nadia he pulled himself out quickly, confusion plain on his face. Actually, why did Nadia get stuck in the first place? She was skinny and short...

Something clicked in the little monster hunter's head and he whipped around to stare at Peach and Ms. Fortune. They didn't seem bigger, but that might have been because he was bigger too. He couldn't fit in the vent and he was about the same size as the rest of the boys. None of those three had eaten, but he had. He'd just seen his body morphing, after all. Of course the Cadet couldn't know that he was misunderstanding part of the situation, all he could think was that the food was effecting them already. While the Koopa King and son worked on breaking the door, the Cadet all but ran over to where the others were converging to think of another plan.

"I know we gotta save them," he started, words tumbling out of his mouth as soon as he was close. He cringed, because there was a 'but,' coming. "And we will. But the - the food we ate. I mean, are you - do you all feel okay?" He looked around at Nadia, Peach, and Glenn. They didn't look any different. Even BB didn't look different. He didn't look different, but he knew what he'd seen. " 'Cause something happened to me, in the cafeteria. My arms um, changed." Yeah, that was a good word for it... "They look normal now but they weren't! Or maybe it was making me see things but... It could be affecting us already so just - be careful. We don't want things to get worse!"

The Cadet started to sound more frustrated than fearful the more he talked. They'd believe him even without the 'evidence' he was sure, they had no reason not to, he just wanted to make sure they were all okay - including Sakura and the Abyssals, of course. So with his current goal of warning the diners of what he assumed was a curse doing it's work on him complete, they now just had to find a way rescue the captives. Hopefully the vent team would be alright until the rest of them found a way in.

After their little mishap with the fish man, Blazermate's healing not working at it should've but everyone alive, they rode the elevator and found themselves in a cafeteria area for kids. Blazermate, not having any need to eat, didn't stick around in this room for long only scooping up a few of the non perishables like cured meats and bread into her backpack when she saw that half her team was eating and the other half wasn't. Either the curse would take those that didn't eat, or the ones that did, so being prepared for one of hte two scenarios would probably be best here. With that done she moved into the next room, which was full of older looking butchers tools such as meat grinders and the like.

Since Blazermate wasn't organic, the sight of all the messy organic bits didn't bother her too much. She knew it was gross, and it was, but unlike some of the others that would soon follow, it didn't bother her on a deeper level other than 'ew'. She then took a peek in the next room, in which she saw a huge butcher, adult sized or maybe even a bit bigger, which towered over her. Not as much as it did the others mind, but while she was one of the taller Medabot models, she still wasn't full human adult size. There were only 3 medabot models that were all things considered, with one of those models being a kaiju and the others being actual tanks. Still, a big human guy was a bit of a relief compared to all the stuff they had been dealing with prior.

And seeing as they were in a kitchen, maybe now Blazermate could find a weapon that wasn't just a piece of scrap metal. Looking around in the room she was in, there wasn't really much that stood out. Chains weren't her thing, and she couldn't pick up an actual meat grinder and use it efficiently either. But over in a corner she found a fish wrapped in a newspaper. However, soemthing about when she scanned this fish caught her attention, as it seemed to be much, much tougher than it looked. Almost as if it was as strong as an aluminum baseball bat. She tried playing with it for a bit, noticing how floppy it was, but after a bit she got some training and ideas with it to use it at least effectively as a club.

It was about time too, as the others had come and gone into the next room doing some shenanigans to open the door, them being much more conspicuous compared to Blazermate. However not long after they made a distraction which caught Blazermate's attention, another chef, more human looking and even bigger than the other guy, came walking in. And this other guy was far, far more perceptive than the other cook, finding the other kids right away and catching their abyssal friends in his clutches! Well this was a good of time as any to appear and help her comrades as the others tried the same thing. Unfortunitally Blazermate couldn't get to the man in time with her weapon, both chefs leaving the room and closing the door behind them with their new found catch.

Some of the kids went through a nearby vent to try to get to their captured allies, others, the ones who ate, were too big and couldn't fit through said vent, were banging down the door. Blazermate joined this door group, using her own robo strength to join in the bashing with Bowser and the like as the ones who could get into the room using their own methods were doing what they could to rescue the girls. Oh, these chefs were in for a surprise when a robot wielding a fish with the strength of an aluminum bat brought her retribution onto them. She was quite tired of this running and hiding business anyway.

Relieved (though barely showing it), Fox stood as Robin came to, the truth doubtlessly returning to him through recollective visions of the recent past. He left to safe assumption that the tactician knew, in part, what was really going on, and made nothing of his requests for forgiveness for prior actions taken against them, for which the Seekers--those of them who could make such calls--were ready to pardon him for any and all of it. They couldn’t, however, say the same for the local authorities, surely driven by their own as of yet unspoken agenda/s. A glance back to the adjourning lieutenants served as a poignant reminder of what they had gotten themselves caught up in, why they had elected to, and that they weren’t yet done with it.

“We’ll catch you up on everything later,” Fox calmly, quietly assured as he drew out another Friend Heart to fulfill Robin’s heartfelt request. “Right now, things are about to get a little more complicated,” he added, tossing up the Heart and rattling off three Blaster shots in tight enough succession to sound like one (as a force of habit, mostly), splitting it between the remaining fallen and injured in need to drift down onto them. “We’ll need you to bear with us a little longer.” He didn’t know how to tell them that they were under arrest, or how he planned on getting them out of custody before day’s end.

As the Grimleal acolytes began rolling in to collect the defeated Resistance members, Fox half expected them to put up some kind of fight rather than going quietly, mentally preparing himself accordingly, but saw in them instead a somewhat surprising absence of wherewithal left to so much as resist detainment. Even refreshed and physically able to hazard such a bout, many of them were left without so much as a clue as to how they ended up where they did or why, and with no common cause (farcical or not) remaining between them to unite under, most had little will left to do much else besides submit themselves to the law apparent for crimes they vaguely remember committing. Yellow Team (and company) would have to come up with some kind of plan on which to act soon if they remained intent on not leaving them to a likely unjust fate when they could serve a better cause--a REAL one. Fox hoped only that his fellow Smash Brother could trust him in the meantime.

The hard real part was soon to come, but for now, their end of the action had concluded. Fox took the idle moment to check on the other half of their team…

“Necronomicon, report!”

…

“Necronomicon… Come in! What’s your status?”

---

Upon seeing sunlight once more, little time was wasted on handing out suggested directives and directions for each half of the escort party, for they had little time to spare, if radio silence indicated anything. Fox was well ahead of Primrose’s suggestion, and had simply to say, “They’re not responding. We need to hurry.” As much as he felt compelled would have liked to rush in a reinforcement effort himself, he couldn’t help echoing Band and Goldlewis’ skepticism, and felt responsible for seeing to Robin and his company’s safety (and potentially emancipation), given how much he had invested himself in it already. It was a harder decision for him than he made it look, but he trusted the team to be able to take care of each other, independent of him, certainly. Nodding affirmation to Big Band proposal, he turned to Primrose, Panther and Skull, and asked them, sincerely, “Can you take it from here?” Less was this a provisional appointment of leadership responsibility, as if there was any honest or official chain of command to acknowledge or respect, than a show of faith by Fox that he trusted them to look out for one another and come back as a full team.

Without wasting time on deliberation, Joker’s two allies engaged the Resistance fighters that threatened his plan to go after Nastasia, and as ever Mao did not hesitate to get his hands dirty. Protected by his shield, Braum was just about invincible from the front, but with only scattered pieces of that navy blue armor on his person he could not boast an impregnable defense from other angles. Being much, much smaller than his target, the little overlord had only so many options when it came to picking a target, so with sword in hand he struck at Braum’s calves. After all, human fragility means that a single slice through the right tendon would topple the big man where he stood. In the heat of the moment and poor light of the arena, however, Mao only realized that his opponent happened to be wearing greaves when a metallic clang rang out and the impact jarred his hands.

The failure of Mao’s surprise attack alerted Braum to his presence, and as the demon backpedaled to avoid a guaranteed counterattack, the Heart of the Freljord spun to deliver it. The weight of his enlarged shield meant he couldn’t lift it fast enough to strike normally with, so instead he left it standing there and came at Mao with a giant hook. He poured enough strength into the dizzying punch to scatter Mao’s teeth across the arena, but the blow came slow enough that the overlord could flee the danger zone and live to chew another day. A second later his longsword carved through the air once again, this time aimed for a more exposed part of Braum’s body. The hunk of scrap metal that slammed into Braum’s back, nearly doubling him over, gave Mao the perfect opportunity. But even then he couldn’t catch a break. His steel drew blood, but even with demonic might stopped short of bone, stymied by dense muscles, tough sinews, and formidable gristle. And even as pain twisted his face, Braum threw his diminutive opponent a manly smile. “Come now, friend! It’ll take a lot more than that!” He then grit his teeth, and with bulging muscles lifted his oversized shield high enough to slam it into the ground, creating a tremor strong enough to throw Mao off his feet if he didn’t jump. In a way, his efforts seemed almost more like showing off than a real attack. Not every human, it seemed, was made of tissue paper.

After hurling some debris into the fight between Braum and Mao, Jesse turned her attention to settling her score with Sven. He’d hindered her with an unwelcome transformation last time, but without a brainwashed defender getting in her way, the FBC director saw no reason to change her plan. This time, it went off without a hitch. Electricity flew far faster than glass vials, and the old alchemist couldn’t prevent Jesse’s reality-altering revolver engorged his already-sizeable midsection. After only a handful of shots his stubby legs could no longer support him, at which point his last ditch attempt to throw a potion at Jesse caused him to teeter forward onto his stomach, where he could to little but wheeze and wriggle, totally defeated. Even then the parautilitarian took no chances, recycling the metal she’d pelted Braum with to nudge her corpulent opponent further away from the fight.

Joker, meanwhile, had reached his target. Though he’d launched into a sprint the moment he’d landed after jumping off Braum, kicking up sand with each footstep, he slowed as he got closer. In his peripherals he caught sight of billowing mist as it filled the colosseum. Remembering Ciella’s attack from the conference room, he readied himself for any purple circles or blue charged shots, but other than that did not trouble himself too much. It wasn’t just caution that took the wind from his sails right now, either; rather, the sight of Nastasia all alone invoked a mixture of contempt and pity. Without any allies left, the little secretary was trying to pick up one of the alien rifles a Vandal left behind, but it was too heavy for her. She couldn’t so much as get it out of the sand, let alone wield it. Joker approached at a saunter with his hands in his pockets, watching without sympathy as Nastasia strained to raise the weapon. “Out of bodies to throw at us?” Unceremoniously Joker kicked the rifle from her hands to slide across the floor, and when his own hand came down it held his new revolver, leveled at his enemy’s head. It was empty, but she didn’t know that, and a gun offered a lot more intimidation than a knife. Sure enough, Nastasia fell flat on her rear, whimpering. Though pretty sure by now that she needed to get her hands on his head in order to brainwash him, Joker remained a good six feet away. “Game over. Release everyone you’ve enslaved and announce your surrender, or else.”

The next few moments, however, made it a challenge to keep his focus on Nastasia. As it turned out, despite Jesse’s best efforts, Sven’s part in the battle had yet to conclude. Sectonia, generally annoyed by her nemesis and frazzled by the explosion of his Chaos Lance after she’d blinked out of the way of a direct hit, decided to take a little revenge for being used against Ciella earlier by doing a little using of her own. Sven craned his neck upward in confusion as the giant wasp appeared before him, only to disappear again a moment later. Her departure, however, revealed a sight that made his eyes go wide in terror. A nebulous vortex of distorted space, like a malignant rift in reality itself, bore down upon him like a bowling ball careening toward a lone pin, but something in Sven’s gut told him that he wouldn’t be spared. Spittle flew from his mouth as he shrieked, his panicked voice pleading, “Shadow, stop! STOOOOOOOOP-!”

His cry for mercy gave way to a wordless howl of death, but only for a brief moment. The next he was gone. Destroyed. The Chaos Burst tore through the arena’s metal floor, leaving a hole in its wake. A moment later Shadow flew back out, totally ignorant of what happened, to engage Sectonia once again. “All you do is run!” he snarled, and after curling up he launched himself at his foe in another Spin Attack. This time he did not use Chaos Burst, but relied on his Spin Attack’s homing ability to chase Sectonia down wherever she fled and slam into her like a spiked wrecking ball.

Neither Shadow nor Sectonia got very far. After Ciella disappeared into her mist, Midna got busy trying to prevent whatever she had in store. Thanks to the healing received from Mona’s persona she could hustle over to the fight by the arena entrance without too much pain and enact a plan to reveal the Agito before she struck. The beat of her Twilit Vibrava’s wings swirled sand into the air, reminiscent of the storms she’d endured while fighting the Flygons the previous day, and Midna fanned the flames with some extra sand pulled from her own realm. Despite her front-row seat to Sven’s disturbing demise, she managed to whip up a bonafide sandstorm, purging Ciella’s mist from the bottom-most portion of the colosseum. With her machinations laid bare, the Agito couldn’t possibly launch her surprise attack.

It was a clever plan. But the wrong one.

Right on schedule, Ciella revealed herself, but not among the combatants at the bottom of the arena. Instead, she appeared at the top in a spinning flourish, then with wings fanned out and claws outstretched, began a quick charge. In front of her a gargantuan purple AoE appeared, covering the whole arena except for the areas beside and behind her. It filled much, much faster than the circular ones created by Hail of Arrows, almost fast enough that someone could blink and miss it. “Sink into the abyss of despair!” Ciella cried, and she fired.

A hundred arrows blasted forth, a veritable spike wall of water that stretched from floor to ceiling, flooded the arena in a single colossal wave. They pierced everything in their path, including support columns and the arena’s walls, creating so many holes that the entire structure groaned under the weight. Heroes and villains toppled end over end, a huge chunk of their collective vitality depleted in an instant.

After a few moments, a wounded cat reached out a plaintive paw. “Zorro...help him!”

As Mona’s Diarama went off, Joker coughed a mixture of blood and water, then got up to his forearms and knees. Soaked, sandy, and nearly skewered, he still lived, but his first thoughts were not of himself. “Fox? Fox!” Remembering his friend’s acid burns, he feared that not enough of Fox’s health remained for him to survive Ciella’s onslaught. His panicked gaze, however, landed on his friend’s outline, hurt but alive as well. “You made it!”

Breathing heavily, Fox nodded. “Before it struck, Mona managed to restore me.”

Joker’s eyes landed on the little thief. “Great job, bud. Seriously. Make sure you heal yourself up, too.”

“Sure thing,” Mona replied, wearing a smile despite his sorry state thanks to the rare praise.

The Phantom Thieves rose shakily, watching Ciella as she flew over. Assured of victory perhaps, she maintained her composure, even as that vicious spark still burned within her eyes. Nastasia saw her too, having staggered to her own feet ahead of most of the others and noticed the lack of barrier about her person. “My overshield…” Unprotected and alone, she looked around in fear until her gaze landed on a black-and-red hedgehog. “Uh, hello? Earth to Shadow? Save me already!”

Shadow grunted in anger, but he could not disobey. He teleported to Nastasia’s position, and the secretary jumped up to cling to him like a koala.

Gnashing her teeth, Ciella extended a claw. “No, you don’t!” A chunk of ice appeared above them, being one of the fastest attacks the Agito could get out, but even as it fell Shadow and Nastasia disappeared into distorted space. It devoured both ice above and floor below, and as Shadow propelled it forward from within Joker was forced to dive headlong out of the way, lest he share the same fate as Sven.

“Drat. I was so close…” As he got to his feet he realized that the arena itself was shaking dangerously. The damage already done to the support pillars and walls plus Ciella’s assault and Shadow’s destruction of the floor combined to make the whole place a lot less structurally sound. Entire sections of ground had been cut out by now, limiting the space non-fliers had to work with. How a hypothetical falling floor would interact with the Ciella’s Feral Shroud Joker couldn’t say, but he didn’t want to find out. “We’re on the clock.” A quick look around confirmed that Ciella seemed to be focused on the last of the Resistance, less a fight and more of a hit-and-run chase. It looked like Shadow couldn’t keep himself and his boss inside that black hole of his for long, although that hardly made up for him being able to pull all this crap in the first place. Whenever he emerged, disoriented by his blind charge, he invariably executed another Spin Attack at the nearest enemy that became another Chaos Burst on the way. That could be capitalized on. But how?

Joker’s assessment terminated on the spirit of Uncle Sven, floating above a section of uneaten ground. “There,” he said aloud. “Necro, tell me everything you say about that morph potion he used on us.”

After deflecting an incoming call with a muttered we’re kinda busy right now the Persona complied. “Based on my scans, it was a total physical change. No attack, no defense, none of my buffs, nothing. You were basically helpless. Are you thinking…”

“That’s a win condition,” Joker nodded. “If we can just tag them with that power, we can beat them.”

Necronomicon contacted him again. “Hate to rain on your parade, but there’s no guarantee that anyone’ll get that power from fusion. Even your luckiest Persona could end up with, I dunno, just that bouncy potion.”

Sighing, Joker readied his knife. Mona and Fox stood by his side. “Guess we’re doing this the hard way then.” The Thieves ran and jumped their way across the arena toward where Ciella and Shadow were going at it. This was the final stretch.



The news that the other half of Yellow Team was neither picking up nor returning Fox’s call was all that Tora and Poppi needed to ready them for another long run. When asked if the rest could help them out sans their resident space animal, they collectively stood behind Skull’s response. “Yeah, no sweat! We can go another couple rounds!” The boy smacked his fist into his palm. “You go on ahead while we mop up the rest of those Resistance jerks!”

“Take care now,” Panther added, addressing Fox, Band and Goldlewis together. “Make sure those goons don’t try any funny business. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Arms crossed, Azwel looked indignant. “Goons!? We’re right here, you know.”

Ignoring him, Tora jumped into the air, pumping his wing like a fist. “Meh-meh, let’s go!”

With the dutiful Es as their guide to the main base and Sora as extra firepower the Seekers ran off, leaving the stay-behinds, Grimleal, and Lautrec to sort things out. Throughout the proceedings the knight, freed from his jail cell down in the Khamoon dungeon only to be apprehended by the Grimleal as a precaution, had kept quiet, but after watching Yellow Team go he approached the remainder to explain his own situation and plead for his release. As it turned out, the Resistance had captured him while he was minding his own business and locked him up, waiting for their boss to come and hypnotize him. With Robin reluctantly backing him up, Lautrec received both a pardon and his release from Kan-Ra, and the embraced knight strode away with his brazen armor gleaming in the afternoon light.

---

It didn’t take much running for Tora, Poppi, Primrose, Yoshitsune, and the others to start feeling the fatigue accumulated by all their running and fighting since lunchtime. Luckily, Skull and Panther had a solution ready, which the dancer recognized as the same that rejuvenated them after their post-palace hospital visit. Al Mamoon, the fair desert city of anachronism, featured more than a few vending machines along its dusty streets, and the Phantom Thieves came to a stop in front of the first machine they found. “Okay, just a second,” Skull said, retrieving from his pockets the coins dropped by the shadows encountered in Madarame’s Museum of Vanity. “It ain’t just ‘cause I’m thirsty, either. This stuff’s got power in the Metaverse. It’ll perk ya right up, for real!” The machine rattled and dispensed an Udagawa Soda, which he pulled out before turning to Panther. “Whaddya want?”

“Uh, Earl Green for me.” Once the Thieves had their drinks, they stepped away from the machine to down them in a hurry. Sure enough, the beverages restored some of their health and spirit, replenishing enough stamina that they could fight at pretty much full strength again.

Though healthy as could be, Tora liked the sound of more energy, and stepped up to the machine next. He scoped out the choices while he scrounged up money. His options were Second Maid, a sugary lime juice, Manta, a salty-sweet juice cocktail, Earl Green, an energy drink based on tea, Ultimate Amazake, a liquid dessert of fermented rice, the banana-flavored Udagawa Soda, Miso Starfish (which appeared to be invertebrate brine in a can), and Dr. Salt NEO, a workout supplement. Predictably he snagged an Ultimate Amazake, which proved to be just a little too sweet for even his rather immature palate. Still, it did the job. He felt refreshed and ready to run.

Being relatively fresh himself Sora need not try anything, which was lucky since he had no money on him, but unless the rest wanted to lag behind they needed to slurp something down quickly. After that, they were on their way. Short and very quick, Es turned out to be difficult to follow, and holding back to make sure nobody got left behind didn’t fully solve the problem. With the work day drawing to a close the streets were crowded with people on their way home from their jobs, out shopping, or on the hunt for a place to eat. After a while of dodging and jostling Tora and Poppi nearly lost Es after a super-sized duo of futuristic wrestler and blue-collar alien separated them. “Not so fast!” Tora wheezed, running out of the way of a snake-in-a-mech. A musical fracas by the side of the street momentarily distracted him, but the Nopon managed to reorient himself on Es’s mop of blonde hair. “How much farther, meh!?”

“There,” Es deadpanned.

Not much farther ahead stood Rocket HQ, the office building that housed the Resistance’s primary headquarters. Judging by the skeleton crew of Grimleal acolytes, Yellow Team had come to the right place. Once through the open doors they came upon a scene of utter havoc, with acolytes here and there picking through an office space utterly demolished by breaking waves and wanton weapons fire. Laharl reclined in one of the few remaining office chairs, somewhere between sulking and relaxing. Tora ran over. “What you doing here?” he asked. “Where everyone else?”

Without a word the surly demon pointed in the direction of the stairs where he last saw Mao’s team. The rest was up to the Seekers.



Practically the moment Nadia went quiet, Mirage spoke up. He cut through the panic-fueled indecision and quickly got the situation back into perspective, noting the various options at hand before choosing one for himself. Rather than deliberate further, Geralt -looking a lot more mad than Nadia had seen him thus far- started barking orders. Nadia knew they had the right idea. There wasn’t time to stand around and think about what to do; they just needed to do something. With their numbers, they could afford to spread out and try some of everything. Ace seemed really out of sorts for some reason, appearing pretty much normal despite his accounts of changed arms, but the others leaped into action. The Koopa and Blazermate started attacking the door. Link, Geralt, and Mirage, armed with various weapons from nails to knives, fretted not about their own lives but forged onward into the unknown, squeezing themselves one after another inside the vent.

Nadia found herself envying their decisive selflessness, wishing she had it in her to be so noble. But self-deprecation could come later. Now was the time for heroics. “I’ll go around,” she announced. “Gonna claw those assholes’ eyes out!” As the boys and Mimikyu disappeared into the narrow passageway she turned tail, putting the locked door toward the south in her sights. Since Blazermate seemed more focused on Bowser and son’s attempt to beat through the door by force, Nadia decided to get the key. As she scampered toward the door she held her magnet up toward the central table, willing it to show the same power it revealed while fighting Moreau. Obligingly the key slid off the edge and into her waiting grasp. Though a little wet with blood for her taste she held tight long enough to chuck it at Kamek, who’d positioned himself right below the hanging padlock. A young koopa might not be able to do much, but he could grab and jump, and with all the energy his starving body could muster Kamek leaped upward to drive the key home. As he dangled he wrenched the key sideways, which both unlocked the mechanism with a satisfying click and slipped it free from the latch. He fell straight into Nadia’s arms as she ran below him, and with a swift kick the door swung inward. Though a small victory, the efficiency of the whole maneuver, having taken only a couple seconds, hyped her up. “Nice! One step at a time!”

Two steps into the next room Nadia’s feet flew out from under her, and she went down. A last-second toss spared Kamek a full-bodied splat onto the ground, hard enough to drive the wind from Nadia’s lungs. As she gasped the feral looked around, trying to figure out what happened. The ground was weirdly slick, and it quickly became apparent why.



This place appeared to be a washroom, its tiles soaked with soap suds that gathered into foamy drifts around the sinks piled impossibly high with dirty dishes. Still recovering from her fall, Nadia had a moment for an incredulous stare at the precarious pillars and pots, plates, and bowls, stacked way, way higher than even the tallest chef could reach. Her upward gaze brought her attention to a large porthole window above a white cupboard, although she couldn’t see anything beyond it but a deep, dark blue, occasionally interspersed with bubbles. Outside? she mused, having almost forgotten that this whole place was one mammoth submarine. Maybe her time on the docks of Little Innsmouth explained how she’d gotten used to the gentle heel of this place in the water. Her examination of the place also turned up two more doors to the east and west, with the westward one accompanied by what looked like a food delivery cart. If her spatial awareness served her well, that door led out into the hallway the crew originally came in through, the same one that bordered the dimly-lit cafeteria on one side. A big, smelly bucket labeled ‘scraps for Moreau’ on the other side of the door suggested that the kids weren’t the only ones served by that cart, either. Neither were the chefs the only ones at work. Throughout the washroom a crew of living forks and even a couple toque-wearing koopas seemed to be hard at work, so busy soaping and scrubbing that none gave more than a cursory glance at the intruders

Since none of them felt like getting in the way, Nadia focused instead on the other door. Going eastward, it granted access to a room directly south of the one the butchers fled to, which hopefully offered a north-facing door of its own. As she rose to her feet, however, Nadia realized that getting over there might be tricky. The soapy tiles might not warrant a second glance from those heavy-set chefs, but for a lightweight child they presented a real issue. Kamek might try asking the koopas for help, but time was of the essence, and Nadia planned to solve this problem herself. But how? Even if tiptoeing or dragging herself on her belly worked, the kitten knew, it would take more time than she had. Could she climb up onto the counters and go around the sinks, maybe? Or…

A lightbulb went off in Nadia’s head, and with a smile she knelt, then reached back to switch on her fan. The next moment she was sliding right across the floor like a hovercraft. In doing so she cut the trip down to just seconds. Ahead of her she could see light pouring both beneath the eastward door and through its keyhole, but rather than faceplant while trying to jump up and get at the knob with soapy hands the feral fixed her eyes on the slot on the side at head height. Dirty dishes came through to land on a small conveyor belt and be dumped into the nearby sink. Trying to jump would lead to another painful fall, but Nadia already had another great idea. Man, I’m on a roll! She shut off her fan, then while still sliding took it off and put it in front of her. After climbing on top she got boosted up to the conveyor. From there she could fetch her fan with her magnet, then push it through the dish slot before squeezing through herself. She nearly got stuck halfway through, no doubt thanks to all the food she’d gobbled up, but a little extra effort popped her through.

Nadia landed with a roll, realizing the moment she hit the ground that it wasn’t tile, but carpet, and a narrow stretch of carpet at that. She found herself on some sort of wide balcony, mostly wooden planks, that overlooked a long, two-story hallway running north to south. Speaking of north, Nadia looked that way to see no door leading into the kitchen where her friends had been taken, and smacked the carpet in anger. “Rats!”

A curious grunt sounded out from the other direction, drawing her attention instantly. Her eyes went wide as she spotted another hideous chef, twin to the first. Where his brother's face stretched wide, however, his mushed inward, forming a fishlike pucker beneath a mop of greasy hair. Having been leaning against and looking over the balcony in the southeast corner, a lit cigarette in hand, he looked over slowly enough that Nadia could skitter away just in time and hide behind a decorative vase. Her tail protruded, but the chef didn’t seem to notice. Instead he gave a heavy cough, put his cigarette out on the railing, and turned to take hold of a meal cart behind him, laden with a very large, bulbous sack. He pushed it into the room to the south and closed the door behind him.

That left just one option. Nadia scurried over to the balcony railing, where the carpet that extended in front of the washroom door proceeded over a bridge across the hallway, no doubt the way the second chef came in. As she crossed she spotted a dumbwaiter on the floor below, left side, right beneath the butchers’ kitchen. “Bingo!” It was currently open, with a few Volbonian waiters removing its contents to distribute throughout what Nadia just now realized must be a massive Japanese-themed restaurant. She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, I hate sushi.” Then again, what this place actually seemed to be serving revolted her a whole lot more. Furthermore, she recognized the decor--the same sort that she saw at the Maw’s entrance. The realization lit a fire inside her. We must be near the top! Once her friends were safe, they might actually be pretty close to escaping! She glanced back as the Runaway dropped down behind her, then looked back at the path ahead. Nadia just needed to get down there without breaking her ankles or alerting the staff. She couldn’t fit or break through the bars of the railing either, so that meant traversing the restaurant itself until she found a way down.

After crossing the bridge, however, she found that the trip might be a whole lot easier said than done. The moment she stepped inside the dining space she beheld a scene of breathtaking gluttony. Rows and rows of Guests, the same sort that waddled out of Tyl Regor’s sealab, sat hunched in booths and benches that creaked beneath their weight, shoveling food into their faces. Whenever one even got close to running out, a Volbonian came by with a ‘fresh’ platter to top off their never-ending feast. The sight robbed Nadia of her appetite, although she gulped in apprehension. It wasn’t hard to imagine one blindly snapping her up as she climbed by. Still, she had no choice. For the sake of her friends, the little feral sprinted onward.

---

After padlocking the door, Larry and his calloused accomplice hurriedly tied the hands (and in Bella’s case, the tail) of their new meat before hanging them by their ropes over the blazing cookfire that dominated one wall of the two-story kitchen they’d fled to. “No wiggling now!” Larry cautioned his catches. “Unless you wanna roast early!” Laughing, he sauntered off until a sudden uproar alerted the cooks to a concerted effort to batter down the door. “Huh?!” Taken by surprise, Larry motioned toward the stretch-faced chef. “C’mere, gimme a hand!” Together, the two dragged a laden cupboard in front of the door, blocking it so thoroughly as to crush and chance of smashing through. “Bahaha, no need to rush!” Larry cackled, patting the shelf. “Once we’re done with the appetizers, we’ll grab you for the main course!”

His laughing trailed off as a racket resounded up from the nearby stairs, and a moment later Chef Antoine appeared. “What the hell’s all this ruckus?” he seethed, wiping his fingers off on a bloody apron. “You both should be working, we’re barely keeping up as it is! The King of Cuisine does not disappoint!”

“Just some extra ingredients,” Larry leered, poking Bella in the tummy. As she whined, Sakura might realize for the first time that her friend looked both taller and heavier than she remembered. If she’d been a girl of four before, she now looked maybe six, or even seven.

Her attention shifted back to Antoine, who did not look pleased by Larry’s suggestion. “Lunatics, what use is meat like that? Woeful that it is, our clients care not for quality, but quantity! We must focus on greater portions!”

“Some King of Cuisine you are!” Larry shot back. “We oughta be proud of our craft!”

“Craft? What craft!? A back-alley bloodletter like you wouldn’t know quality meat if it hit you in the face!” Though smaller than the butcher, Antoine got right up in the man’s face. “And if you don’t finish your fillets right this instant, I’ll show you exactly what I mean!”

For a moment there was silence, save the crackle of the flames and the simmering of the cookpots. Then Larry turned away in a huff to head back to the giant fish he’d been cutting up for Fujimoto’s sushi, grumbling under his breath. Antoine glowered at the blocked door before addressing the stretch-faced chef. “Come with me downstairs. I need you to handle the pot roast.” The two departed, leaving Sakura and the Abyssals alone with Larry. In anger the butcher struck his cleaver against the bars of a cage filled with Aggrolls, Minimakis, and Noodlers, then grudgingly returned to his task.

---

The trip through the vents turned out to be more complicated than any of its crawlers would have liked. A few feet brought them to a T-junction right in front of the vent’s opposite end, but rather than a hatch it terminated in a grate, screwed on both very tight and from the outside. From there none of them could do much but take in the kitchen’s smells and the chefs’ argument, then turn to go down the other way. After another dozen feet it turned right and sloped downward at a forty-five degree angle, steep enough that it would be tricky not to fall straight down. At this point the sheer coldness of the metal also started to take a toll, hurting any exposed skin that came in contact with it. Nevertheless, the little heroes carried onward, making their way down to the main kitchen’s first floor. There the frontrunner found a miracle: a hatch rather than a grate. Through it he could emerge beneath a counter. They were in.

Immediately there was a problem. Beneath the counter lay five mousetraps, arrayed right around the vent. Three of them offered chunks of cheese, and two morsels of meat, but the cheese in particular provided a strong temptation thanks to its potent small and far less dubious origin. Unlike the food in the cafeteria, Mirage couldn’t just ignore this. It lay right in his path, demanding confrontation. Still, simple mousetraps would not be the end of the vent-goers’ story.

Once past them, the heroes had only the entirety of the kitchen’s first and second floors between them and their friends. On the first floor they spotted Antoine, stretch-face, and yet another chef hard at work, with the unfamiliar face single-mindedly focused on making sushi. Once he finished a batch and plated it, he pushed it into a dumbwaiter and closed it, causing the other side (presumably facing a restaurant of some kind) to open. The others worked on dishes of their own, including a jumbo-sized meaty lasagna and a huge pot roast. The roast featured a slab of meat far too large to be a child, but that did little to abate the newcomers’’ fury. They thought only of revenge and a way forward, but even that turned up a couple issues. Scattered around the place were Scalding Coffee Cups, superheated caffeine spirits that served double duty as chef stimulants and pest control. Though quite hot, they presented only a minor threat compared to the duo of Tempura Wizards who busied themselves using their magic to transform otherwise worthless scraps of food into tempura. It didn’t take a genius to intuit that the same might apply to any unwelcome guests. Still, with all of the stuff around there were a huge number of both places to hide and potential weapons to find, offering the heroes many ways to go about their business.



Albedo paused and quietly turned to face Linkle as she approached the cats. Though she possessed only good intentions, she did not let them off the hook easily, but instead did her best to make them realize the foolishness of their actions. As she revealed to them the degree to which she could have destroyed them and went on to describe the brutality a less merciful victim like the Stranger might inflict, the fuzzy burglars listened with round eyes and mouths agape. Her final words of advice provoked a vigorous round of head-nodding, the young gang thoroughly intimidated and ready to mend their ways. When Linkle asked for Albedo’s pouch, which the alchemist himself actually forgot about in favor of his sketchbook, one cat returned the stolen coinpurse sheepishly before scampering off to hide behind her toy drum.

A moment later the Skullgirl joined Albedo on the edge of the cat burglars’ loft, and received from her new friend an impressed nod. “Well done,” he told her, his voice soft and flat as ever, but Linkle could tell that he meant it. With the situation handled the duo, delayed but not aggravated by the feeling of totally wasted time, could leave the old mill behind. Without a windglider, getting down wasn’t as easy as it could have been, but neither Albedo or Linkle had too much trouble. Plus, during the descent they divert more attention to picking up pons, and by the time the pair reached terra firma all their climbing had amassed them a decent stash. “That’s probably enough for another badge, if not two,” the alchemist observed. “If you want to ride back over to the village and get them, feel free.” He held his chin in his hand as he looked out through the crisp alpine air at the lively little mountain town. “I had considered sketching the village from afar anyway, so I would not mind.”

Whatever Linkle decided to do, the next step of their journey lay on the opposite end of the old mill’s plateau, and it began by taking hold of the flagline that plunged downward into the sea of clouds that blanketed the misty valley. As he descended, hanging once more for his life from a mere rope, Albedo could feel the air getting steadily warmer. It remained cool, but no longer freezing, and he could appreciate the change if not the manner in which he encountered it. Before too long the clouds swallowed him up, and for a few moments he could see nothing but pure, unadulterated white, in every direction.

Then came the color.



Emerging from the whiteness in a puff of fog, Albedo descended into a valley of breathtaking splendor. Below him stretched a forest of bone-white trees and vivid scarlet leaves atop a blanket of gorgeous wildflowers, their petals crimson, azure, indigo, and violet. Mossy green boulders dotted the tough, golden taiga grass. The flagline came to a stop at a tree in the front yard of a quaint little hut covered in clovers and yellow flowers, its white-bearded dweller out front tending to his garden. The sight of Albedo, moving gingerly among the flowers as if afraid to dispel some beautiful illusion, made him chuckle. “G’day,” he said, holding up a paw in greeting as he leaned on his hoe like a staff. “Lovely bit o’ forest, eh? They call ‘em the Wildwoods. Some folks live here ‘n there but for the most part it’s pristine. Makes every day a blessin’.”

“Indeed.” Albedo looked around slowly, trying to take it all in. “No matter what my time in this world amounts to, I expect I won’t soon forget this.”

With a soft smile, the gopher held onto his stick. “I reckon you won’t.”

His mission momentarily forgotten, Albedo left it to Linkle to inquire about Freya.