---

"Eeeeh..." Brave? Him? Mirage considered himself a bit cowardly, but he did make it this far with all the craziness presented thus far, so that had to count for something. His moment of distrust in the comment fed into the obvious nature of it being a tale about himself, but after a moment he recalled he tried to not make it about himself in the first place and pushed a response. "I-I mean, yeah! The bravest! Guy's done a lot of stuff, plenty to say about him." Yes! Absolutely nailed it. The master of deceiving physically and vocally, that's what he was. Hundred percent!

Seeing Bella perk up a little, and help Sakura do the same, brought a smile to Mirage's face. He put his goggles back on, allowing them to enjoy their moment as he continued to keep an eye out. He'd felt like it went well, though momentarily went through a minor crisis of wondering if he was getting old if he'd ramble on like that. He brushed it aside, refusing to evaluate that as a possibility any further. Especially since he was stuck in his childhood body at the moment.

A good distraction came in the return of both groups, though not without bad news. Mirage, perhaps unfortunately, could count. And that counting told him one less person came back from the Lady's Chambers, which was not at all a good sign. It made him consider if he should've been more vocal about his disagreement with splitting like they did, though if it would have made a difference with how stubborn everyone tended to be, he couldn't tell whatsoever. In a way, it was similar to his own experiences. People taking risks, knowing there's a risk but not seeing another way forward. Except at least where he fought there was an even field, where this place was anything but. Simply taking prey because it could. His head dipped in momentary silence, not knowing enough about the departed to say much, but he wanted to acknowledge it nonetheless. There was a bit of fear stirring in him, wondering if there were anymore surprises waiting up ahead. With the Resentment's out of the way, however, it felt like a fairly clear shot to the one that needed to be put down for them to put this nightmare ship out of commission. Or at least get the hell out of it.

Head turning at Kamek's words, Mirage eyed the spirits up for grabs. Noting he hadn't much more than agility to rely on, he thought back on what he witnessed in the kitchen and realized there was potential to weaponize himself without becoming weirder-looking or ending up with weird side-effects. No offense to the idea of fusing with it, but Mirage liked having control of all of his wonderous facial features. "I'll bag one of those," He answered, approaching to pluck out the second Tempura Wizard. The other one gave him really bad vibes, and he didn't exactly wanna touch it. The Wizard, however, he was familiar with at least slightly.

Though, as he held it, he stood there in a momentary silence. A couple of blinks later, and he came to the realization that he had absolutely zero idea about what exactly he had to do with it. Link made it look super easy earlier, what was the big deal? Maybe there was a magic phrase, or something? Deciding to try and get some answers, he awkwardly looked back at Kamek. "We can get these things to fight for us, like that big butcher guy, right?" His eyes explained his utterly oblivious nature, practically adding on a second, concerned ... Right?

"Right you are" Kamek told him, before realizing why it was a question rather than a redundant statement and continuing "Ah, observation, not knowledge. here let me explain" before moving on to depart wisdom like a blind sage "Simply hold it as you are now and, mm, command it to serve you. or convince it. or simply ask and it will obey, for i have never seen he request refused"

He tapped his beak thoughtfully, then shrugged and said "A simple, innate desire to live again, no mater how briefly perhaps? It does not particularly matter right now, though perhaps I will ask once mine are restored. For now, all you need to do is will it to serve, and the minion shall obey, though, as with all things, I'm sure kindness and compensation both can go a long way."

Nodding, Mirage felt a little better but still not entirely sold on how exactly he should go about it. Figuring if it could help in any manner, then it must've been living in some form. So referring to it as a 'servant' and then enslaving it flatly like that felt a little cruel, though the truth of things regardless made it quite a situation for him. Taking a moment to think, his eyes widened with an idea that came to mind. He just had to be a little charismatic and charming, yeah? And who better for something like that than The Mirage? Probably a lot of people, if you asked anyone else. But his ego told him 'Nobody!'

Crouching down, Mirage stared at the spirit with a slightly nervous and shifty expression as it sat in his palms. "So, we were enemies, and that kinda sucked," He noted, trying to lay a positive spin on the matter. "But! We could work together. Think about it; I love seafood, you, uh, very clearly love seafood. And food in general! I can cook." One might question if he was trying to enlist the spirit of a monster for battle, or... Just tell it his redeeming qualities, like some sort of dating profile. "You know what else goes good with rice like that stuff that was in your bowl? Pork. I'm great with pork, got a signature porkchop recipe and everything. If you come with, I bet we'll cook up all sorts of things. A lot of mouths to feed with these guys." If it'd been fine just transforming litter off the ground and shoveling it into god knows who, then why not a few heroes? The idea of being able to make food anywhere and out of what he assumed was anything, sounded fantastic.

It also made him wonder just what he could make food out of. Could he turn the mannequins into food? The floor? The Dart Gun he kept close? He felt a power like that could have a lot of utility, but that all depended on his awkward attempt to recruit this food spirit. Which, resolved in his favor or not, he'd quickly march towards that stage with the others. If they thought that Mirror could do something, then he saw no reason for Sakura to not have it. If anything he simply appreciated Peach's approach on the matter, glad to see Sakura seemed to retain the perkiness Bella helped instill.

"Maybe it'll suck her in, then seal her away or something." Mirage mused, most logic going out the window in this place a long time ago, so some dumb fairytale logic might click. King Bowser seemed to be confident it'd work, and being the King, faith had to be put in him! Though, if it didn't, then they'd at least have a small army equipped with an equally small arsenal to try and take her out. Mirage, for one, had no intention of holding back. That Lady had taken two of their own, between that Runaway Kid and the recently lost Glenn. And she was about to regret it.

The Seekers, after a long day that felt like three barely making it to the city, and the rest spent fighting through it to seemingly circuitous ends, hadn’t made it far out of the door before making evening plans to wind down and enjoy themselves. While understanding the need, Fox didn’t share his companions’ collective sentiment. He didn’t feel like he could relax just yet.

Hearing Big Band declare unfinished business of his own reminded Fox that there was more left he could do in the day as well. He wasn’t exactly in a celebratory mood anyhow. Not with lingering doubts and concerns coming out of the court that had yet to be abated. There was, of course, one who could better identify with him than any other present, having what one could assume to be the most stake in and familiarity with the matter.

“How are you feeling about all this?” At the risk of asking an obvious question, he caught Robin just outside the palace directly following the hearing to make a calm, hushed pry for his opinion.

The tactician had clearly been considering the matter. “I’m conflicted,” he replied, the simple word hiding a lot of baggage. “I don’t trust Validar, and neither should you. As far as I’m concerned, the audience with him was a farce. The pretense of honest discussion...thanks to that spy of his, he knew our group was withholding information, but we couldn’t say how much he knew, nor risk anything with the Resistance members’ lives on the line.”

Shaking his head, Robin crossed his arms. “Still, I wasn’t expecting him to concede at all, let alone so easily. Considering his ambitions, him letting me go free is miraculous. Perhaps he considers you all a threat and simply wanted to get rid of you as fast as possible.” His head adopted a slight tilt. “With Reptile, he gave us the choice to either confront him on his own turf, with all the cards in his hand, or keep our complaints to ourselves. A cunning maneuver really. No matter which route we took, he minimized the chance of conflict with us, and should you return and stir up trouble in the future he’ll no doubt be well-prepared.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” Fox said, spacing out his speech with a wary glance at his surroundings before continuing. “We’re obviously a threat if we want to be, and he knows neither of us fully trusts the other.” The latter word of Fox’s reply clarifying for Robin that his skepticism was shared, minus the personal element or the intensity that went with it. “But if he wants to get rid of us, it’ll be for good, right?” Fox part asked whilst speculating. “Because if you know us,” which he surely did, “then you know we have more than he can prepare for, and he won’t want to risk his future on that. Not if he’s really that paranoid.”

Fox’s mind wandered for a moment between the issue at large against the grand scheme, and the difference in unshared perspectives on them. “I’m sure he’s convinced himself by now that this is all some kind of elaborate plan to depose him.” His gaze then wandered with his thoughts to the sky above the horizon. “He just doesn’t know we have bigger problems...”

The tactician seemed to agree, although he still looked wary that someone might be listening in. For all the Seekers knew, letting them go might have been a ploy to bait them into letting slip more information right into an unseen Reptile’s waiting ears. “Ideally, he’s playing nice because he doesn’t want to tangle with your alliance. As long as all he cares about is Al Mamoon, there shouldn’t be any issue in the campaign against Galeem.” Robin allowed his inner conflict to show on his face. “I must confess myself torn. Knowing what I do I would want to stay here, both to help pick up the pieces and to keep an eye on Validar. But the real fight demands all the strength that can be spared for it.” He took a deep breath. “I would offer my aid, if you’d have me. And Tharja would no doubt wish to follow in my footsteps.”

Fox nodded softly, thoughtfully, as he considered Robin’s perspective and what to say next, keeping in mind the mentioned possibility of an invisible spy at their backs. “We’re not abandoning this place,” he quietly assured Robin, “...or the people here.” As much as he cared about doing what he thought and felt was right, truth told, Fox was a little short on the same personal investment in the cause that was the liberation of Al Mamoon, specifically, other than by empathetic proxy and a general sense of saving the whole World. He couldn’t simply reduce the town’s people and their plights to just another smaller objective on their way to completing the bigger mission, nor would he dismiss them as inconsequential by comparison. But Robin was right; he could stand even less to leave their true oppressor alone any longer than they had to on their way to it. Dropping a hand onto Robin’s shoulder, he continued. “We have the night to figure it out. If there’s anything you want to take care of tomorrow before we leave, run it by me later, and we’ll see what we can do.”

The tactician shrugged. “For now, I would be content with merely putting some distance between Validar and myself. I’m not the sort to take drastic action without time to plan.” He gave one final look at the palace before nodding farewell to Fox. “See you on the morrow.”

Fox wordlessly reciprocated Robin’s evening farewells and left him to be on his way. He respected Robin’s evident patience with the matter--a quality he didn’t quite share with him--and couldn’t blame him for feeling as he did. He was then hit with a twinge of pity when a simple regrettable, subjective truth crossed his mind: Not everyone deified their father. Not all were so fortunate as to have that--or lose it. Insofar as he was able to, however, he could understand, and would try his best to.

Fox allowed these thoughts to ease their way from his mind as he turned his attention to more pressing concerns. “Poppi...” Fox called remotely, intending more to speak with Tora, but resigned to communicate vicariously through her. “Make sure Tora doesn’t get too comfortable yet. I’ll need you both at the station later tonight. There’s something I want to make sure of.” Upon receiving confirmation, he would sign off and lay low until nightfall, whereupon he would make his way to the train station to get ahead of them. He remembered also that he told Sly to meet back up there around the same as well, and thus aimed to follow through on that. Perhaps they could learn from one another, depending on the difference in how they spent their days. Of course, any valuable exchanges called for ensuring somehow that no third parties would be attending them there in secret to do their own learning.

Naturally, that much hinged on their devious, thievious new recruit showing up, his hypothetical absence to be otherwise taken as its own sign. It wouldn’t be assumed, in any case, that he simply forgot either. If there were still any lingering elements of subterfuge or sabotage going against them, Fox expected--and intended--to rule them out tonight; to be clear of any doubts before the day came. Doubtlessly, he figured, someone would be waiting there for them, so he would go accordingly prepared...

A hefty helping of rather unhealthy food, calorie rich and vitamin deficient, left Tora feeling more rotund than usual, so he was in no hurry to do much of anything. Since wherever he went Poppi followed, the pair ambled out into the town. Despite being their fourth or fifth journey through Al Mamoon, the city really did have yet to lose its charm for the unusual pair. Without the suns’ rays a blanket of blue moonlight had settled over the city, The world of Alrest that Tora and Poppi called home simply didn’t have cities either this big or this dense. Even the capitals of Uraya and Mor Ardain, Fonsa Myma and Alba Cavanich respectively, fell short. On this trip the two also happened to lack any objective beyond an eventual arrival somewhere that Tora could sleep, so they could wander to their hearts’ content. And wander they did.



At their leisure Tora and Poppi ducked in and out of a dozen shops, businesses, and other places of interest. Though normally a wealth of unfamiliar smells would fascinate any Nopon worth his salts, Tora was so stuffed from his feast at Spread Eagle that the very idea of food repulsed him, so he and his Blade steered well clear of other restaurants. Still, that left plenty of cool places to visit, like the quaint little Kecleon Shop, a multimedia retailer that caught Tora’s attention, a bowling alley the Crafters’ Guild integrated into an ancient ruin, the spooky Hall of the Chosen that served as a Grimleal temple, and the Sacred Flame Arena, a gladiatorial cage suspended before the statue of a forgotten war god.

Even though the two seldom stopped for more than a few moments at any given place, the sheer abundance of sights to see meant that a good long while passed before Poppi eventually steered her Masterpon in the direction of the train station. Now that the incredibly awesome Railway Gun was officially Team Good Guys property, Tora couldn’t be more jazzed to waddle over and check the behemoth locomotive out, no matter how tired and full he might be. The two arrived and made a beeline to the platforms to find the Railway Gun right where they left it, as gargantuan and imposing as ever, but not unattended. Instead they found it under review by none other than the Conductor. Spick and span in his little uniform despite the late hour, he watched over a crew of the Grimleal’s undead workmen as they went down his long checklist of repairs and preparations to make before the immense locomotive could get rolling the next morning. Tora moved in. “Hihi, Mr. Conductor! How things going?”

“Not too bad, considerin’ ‘ow much I’d rather be watchin’ me ol’ Westerns in me couch right about now,” the yellow-feather bird joked, none too serious. “Lucky this oversized rustbucket in’t as complicated as it looks, or these zombie blokes’d be in a peckin’ state, make no mistake. If I wanted a bunch of peck necks to dance around on bird seed, I’d visit me grandchildren.”

Tora saw only a couple thralls around the Railway Gun, so he figured the rest must be inside. “That good to hear. Any idea on progress?”

The Conductor shrugged. “We’re pretty close, actually. We’ve mostly just been loadin’ up fuel. This thing’s got a big peckin’ appetite.” He glanced over at Tora, or at least the Nopon assumed he did, since he couldn’t for the life of him identify the Conductor’s eyes--if he had any to begin with. “Guess all that work ya did fer free earlier saved me a lotta trouble. Don’t s’pose ya know how to run one o’ these things, lad?”

“Not really, but Tora very good with machines, and vehicle just big machine that move, meh!” the Nopon declared, which Poppi backed up with a nod.

Their assurances they still left the Conductor well shy of convinced, but if they seemed sure of themselves, who was he to judge? “Eh, I’ll take your word for it, lad. Hopefully Validar agrees and lets me off the peckin’ hook. The sooner I get back to me Owl Express, the better!”

Though the opportunity came as a result of the Conductor passing the buck, Tora lit up at the possibility of driving the Railway Gun. “Ooh, Tora hope so! Nighty-nighty, Conductor!”

“G’night!”

As he went back to his business, Tora and Poppi stepped away, with the Nopon making an idle observation. “Meh, meh...doesn’t he talk sort of like Gormotti in Torigoth?”

“Poppi actually thought same thing!”

The shared revelation made Tora smile. “Meheh. Gormotti are kittypons though, and Mr. Conductor is birdypon, so he not be very happy back home.”

“No trains, either,” Poppi added in agreement.

Tora’s brow furrowed. “...He [i]is[i/] birdypon, right?”

His companion looked no more certain than he did. “Scans inconclusive,” she told him.

Rather than rush back toward the entrance they wandered a little while longer through the station, moving up and down the train platforms. Tora made sure to check out each and every locomotive he could get close to, wishing he had both the time and permission to peer into their inner workings and learn their engineering marvels for himself. Despite all his technical accomplishments, from making weapons to video games to Poppi, it had always been beyond his means to prototype his own vehicle. His forebears never dabbled in that area, so he lacked the know-how as well as the materials, and before meeting Rex he traveled precious little, anyway. That meant that in a way, the Railway Gun was a massive, ironclad dream come true.

Tora’s locomotive tour ended in a particularly strange train. Sleek and almost featureless except for its rows of yellow windows, it looked to Tora like a big, long blue box, but that wasn’t all. The track beneath it shimmered like an illusion over the concrete beneath, and it extended straight into the pitch-black void of a tunnel Tora felt pretty darn sure was on an exterior wall. In front of it rested a giant orange cat, bigger than a horse and tethered to the vehicle like one too, curled up in a tantalizingly fluffy ball. In other words, it was an impossible train--and that was precisely what made it so interesting. With Poppi right behind and as curious as he was, he approached the sign.



“Anywhere?” Tora repeated before turning to Poppi. “Meh meh. Poppi not suppose they mean anywhere anywhere?”

“If cat train somehow use impossible space, it not...well, impossible,” Poppi reasoned.

As the two pondered the implications, a brassy note from behind broke their concentration. They turned to see the familiar hulking figure of Big Band power-walking across the station toward them, shaking the ground ever-so-slightly with each two-and-a-half-ton step.

“Band-Band!” Tora exclaimed, flapping his wings as he ran over with Poppi in hot pursuit. Before either got too close, however, a black hole opened in the tile in front of them, and out of the darkness within sprang a ragamuffin in a top hat. With teeth as metal in her arms and crimson eyes in abundance on her limbs rather than in her empty sockets, she looked just as creepy as she did cartoony, and the pistol she pointed right at Tora sure didn’t help with first impressions. “Meh?!” he squeaked.

“Say your pwayers!” she grinned as she pulled the trigger.

As Tora flinched, a tiny flag extended from the barrel and unrolled, revealing a bright red banner with the word ‘BANG!’ written in bold yellow font. Immediately the would-be shooter broke down into a fit of laughter. “Gahahahah, gotcha! Boy, you’s two’s oughta see the looks on your faces right about now!”

Taken utterly aback, the two looked between the stranger and Band as he approached. “Peacock!” he admonished as he came to a stop behind the girl, deploying an arm to take hold of her shoulder. “If you greet someone like that, they’re liable to take you serious!” With a sigh he gave Tora and Poppi an apologetic look. “Sorry, folks. She’s still learnin’ that what’s funny for her might not be funny for everyone.”

“Aw, shucks!” The girl complained, weaseling out of Band’s grasp. “The big lump ain’t got a funny bone in his body, see?”

“Better than bein’ the eternal child.” Band retracted his arm and addressed the duo. “Anyway, this is Peacock. She an’ I go back a ways. Say hi, Peacock.”

“Soitenly!” Closing her eyes with a smile, the girl doffed her hat[, revealing a little bird thing in similar clothes that raised its own hat, beneath which a tiny cricket raised a hat of its own for a triple-layer greeting.

Band turned toward a row of benches the group could retire to, signalling the others to follow him. “Why don’t we sit and get y’all caught up?”

“Meeeh…” Tora groaned, prompting the detective to pause. A quick examination confirmed that Peacock’s stunt had spooked the last bit of energy right out of him. “Tora literally about to collapse from exhaustion. Can’t Band-Band give short version while Poppi carry to hotel?”

No stranger to adapting on the fly, Band conceded, and the small group set off. Held like a plushie in Poppi’s arms, Tora fell asleep instantly, but naturally his creation was willing to hear Band out in his stead. “Short version is, Peacock here took a leaf outta my book and came here to try an’ crack the Resistance case all on her own. Course, she didn’t tell me nothin’, so by the time I roll in she’s nowhere to be found. Apparently she tracked the actual ringleader all the way over to a town nearby, only for the both of ‘em to get struck in traps.”

“I busted outta there last night and moseyed on back though,” Peacock added, swinging her arms as she walked in an exaggerated fashion. “And wouldn’tcha know, on the way over this mornin’ I stumbled on a buncha chumps out in the sand. There were some weird bugs too. Wasted those suckers.” She raised a finger gun and winked, which made a gun sound and actually shot a puff of smoke.

“Point is, the people she met were apparently part of your group, if everythin’ matches up,” Band said. “I’d found Fox here waitin’ for Tora..."

"Oh..." Poppi mumbled, having gotten so caught up with dinner and exploring the city that the pilot's instructions slipped her memory.

"...But when I saw Peacock’s planes I knew it was her straight away. We went out, helped bring ‘em in, and fixed ‘em up in the hotel.” He nodded at the establishment coming up on the small group’s right. “He stuck around with ‘em, but I came back to see if there was any funny business with the train. Guess we’ll double check tomorrow mornin’.”

Having assumed that the party members lost during the upswell were dead, Poppi greeted the news of their recovery with joy. “That great news! Everyone will be so happy!” With a smile on her face the artificial blade ran her fingers through Tora’s fur. “Even Masterpon sleep easier knowing they safe.”

“I sure hope so.” Band couldn’t help but echo Poppi’s smile. “It’s gonna be one hell of a day tomorrow. Y’all make sure you’re well-rested.”

“And you, detective.” After giving Band a curtsy in thanks for holding the door open, Poppi disappeared inside to speak with the receptionist about a room for herself and Tora.

As Peacock marched inside, demanding to stay up late and watch cartoons, Band’s eyes rested for another moment or two on the moon. “Alone together at last.” Then he shook his head, murmured, “God bless the child,” with a smile, and disappeared inside.

Remembering the high-calorie feeding frenzy her Masterpon so happily partook in the night before made Poppi’s unblinking stare at Tora’s platter of pancakes all the more condemnatory. Such was its severity that, try as he might to shut her out, the Nopon quickly wilted under her gaze. “...Meeeh?!” he moaned, lowering his eagerly-raised fork and knife. “Stop looking at Tora like that! Poppi make it really hard to enjoy meal, meh!”

“Is Masterpon really going to eat all that, after giant junk food dinner last night?” the artificial blade questioned, the sheer incredulousness writ on her features as she watched the maple syrup flow down the flapjack stack in rivulets making Tora feel awfully judged.

Uneasy, Tora scratched at his face with a wing. “W-well, that Tora plan, but now all of sudden Tora not so sure…”

Poppi interlaced her fingers, her elbows on the red-white checkers of the tablecloth. “Poppi know that as Nopon, Tora love food and want make most of Gold Pass before leave, but surely this still too much?”

“Meh, Tora is growing boy! Need keep strength up!” the engineer defended himself.

“If not be careful, only growing Tora do is sideways.”

Tora’s brow furrowed, an annoyed look on his face. “That enough! Listen, Tora know that it part of Poppi job to take care of Masterpon, keep Tora under control, but maybe Poppi not realize how much strain it put on Tora to run around all day, every day, meh, meh, meh! Since start adventure with Rex-Rex and friends, it nonstop exercise, and if not eat well, Tora can’t function. We fight big bossypon today too, so need every bit of energy Tora can get!”

After hearing her creator out with her eye closed in reflection, his companion gave him a sagacious nod of acceptance. “Poppi understand better. Not realize Masterpon thought it out so much, and am sorry for jump gun. As long as Masterpon aware, have as many as…” she trailed off as she opened her eyes, finding Tora already a full pancake in, his cheeks stuffed like a hamster’s. He stared at her sideways as if she’d caught him with his hand in the cookie jar, but Poppi merely shrugged and turned her attention elsewhere.

Though she got the impression that this tidy little diner would ordinarily be bustling with activity thanks to its proximity to the train station, it was a slower business morning for Al Mamoon on account of a certain high-profile public event, and this place was no exception. Realizing that many citizens would be out attending Validar’s grand press release, and not really interested in it himself, Tora had made the strategic move to go hunting for breakfast rather than witness the official end of the Resistance. As such, while Sectonia and Raz busied themselves with demonstrations of the former members’ innocence, and Midna helped distribute the stolen goods, the Nopon found himself nice and cozy in the near-total privacy of Bear and Breakfast, his hearty meal delivered by none other than the owner himself, the affable Hank. In Al Mamoon, any establishments that didn’t fit the city’s sandstone aesthetic tended to catch the eye, and after relishing his pancakes Tora certainly didn’t regret this diner catching his.

Still, all good things had to come to an end, and Tora did not plan to shirk his duties. Though the Gold Pass paid for his breakfast, he and Poppi made sure to tip Hank for his mighty fine efforts by providing as much water and ice as he could want, courtesy of Poppi’s ether conversion. Then they set off, headed right down the road toward the well-traveled train station that would see them on their way. There they found the Railway Gun just where they left it, stupendous as it was terrifying, visible in all its majesty in the morning sun, primed and ready to roll. Eager to make up for the lost opportunity to survey it last night, Tora swept across the machine like a hurricane under the Conductor’s watchful eye(?), while Poppi waited out front.

Even with a big event going on, the station buzzed with activity. Those who couldn’t afford to spend a half hour or so attending Validar’s press release were either making their commutes or already hard at work. Normal-sized trains chugged in and out of the place, loading up or discharging cargo and passengers. Most notably, the Yellow Line was especially active, running with remarkable regularity through that impossible tunnel on the outer wall. It piqued Poppi’s curiosity, but she wasn’t about to take any brash action, especially without Tora. Instead, she just watched the people of Al Mamoon go by.

Soon enough, the artificial blade had company. An entire crowd of allies arrived at once, evidently having come all the way from the display in front of the Cowlipha’s palace. Big Band and Peacock moved as a unit, the detective taking the opportunity to explain the overall situation to his cartoon-watching charge, while the group from Lakeside followed along. The Scout, the Heavy, the Medic, and Blue Poison had fought together, deserted together, been lost together, and survived together, and even after their harrowing ordeal yesterday, none of them felt like calling it quits. Along with them came Goldlewis and Ram, with the girl’s black Organization coat packed away in favor of her own white mantle to beat the desert heat. Unlike Goldlewis, who would be headed back toward the northern metropolis as planned, Ram would be following along on the Seeker’s quest to slay this region’s boss. The sight of so many allies filled Poppi with courage. “Friends!” she called, waving her arms in greeting, and after Tora looked up at her shout he slid down the Railway Gun’s hull to join the others.

He bounced over to what was quickly becoming a sizable crowd just in time to hear Big Band say, “Naw, it all went down smooth as jazz. Most folks were just glad that Resistance, bein’ a thorn in the general side for a while an’ all, ain’t a problem no mo’. The rest were glad t’see the former members put to rights. A couple of ‘em like Earthquake, Cass, ‘n Maeve were criminals, but a couple were sorely missed. Havin’ proof of the ringleader there to take the fall squared everythin’ away nice ‘n tidy, and if anyone winds up feelin’ it’s a little too tidy, well…” He heaved his massive mechanical shoulders. “That ain’t our problem!”

“There are a great many mysteries here still,” Robin mused, peering through the arches of the train station toward the Palace. Ever in his shadow, Tharja followed his gaze, her sunken eyes staring out beneath a crown of bright blond hair. “Like what happened to Lowlah, how to restore her, and Validar’s true intentions. But for now, we must attend to more pressing matters.”

“Awrighty then, let’s blow this popsicle stand already!” Peacock declared. “I’m dyin’ to bag me that big mook flyin’ around the mountain!”

After glancing at Goldlewis over by the Railway Gun being mighty impressed, Band directed his attention to Tora. “How’s it lookin’, son?”

Nearly beside himself with excitement, Tora could scarcely keep still. “All systems go!” he announced.

“What’d I tell ya, lad?” the Conductor smirked, crossing his arms. “Gibberin’ ghouls or not, when it comes to trains, I know me business!”

A handful of shadows fell over the group, and when the gathered Seekers looked over they found six familiar shapes standing on the rooftop opposite the station, silhouetted against the rising sun. Having made their stylish entrance, the Phantom Thieves leaped down and ran into the station, further bolstering the ranks of the Railway Gun’s crew. Clean as a whistle in his black jacket, Joker -along with Skull, Panther, Fox, Mona, and Necronomicon- exchanged greetings with those already present.

“Well then, it looks like we’re just about ready to roll out,” Joker summarized.

“How’s everyone looking?” Necronomicon asked, trying to get a clear picture of the general status. “Any last-minute preparations?”

Holding up a rucksack, Panther announced, “We just finished shopping! Grabbed some cold-weather gear and supplies!” She neglected to mention that the Thieves had used the last of the cash they’d looted from Madarame’s Museum of Vanity yesterday to do it, on account of the eyebrows it might raise.

With Peacock already gone to get on the train Band could only hope she wasn’t getting into mischief, so he ran a quick headcount instead. “We’re still missin’ a few,” Band noticed. “Probably gearin’ up, like you said.”

The sixteen, split into small groups either on the platform or the train, continued to chat and make ready for the upcoming voyage as they waited.

After being thoroughly bathed, wined and dined at the spa Midna got re-dressed in her now wonderfully clean getup, sans the boots and chest plate she had acquired from the ill gotten gains stored in rocket HQ. Those went back in the malicious pile of things that would be being returned to them tomorrow, likely cleaner than she had gotten them. Which was, when it came down to it, not a nice thought. It was almost preferable to be wearing her not cleaned pair of slippers to someone else's boots really.

Not that they touched the ground often, nor did they do so now as she drifted out of the little yard that contained the local Spa warp and thought over what she was going to do with the rest of the eve. It was a question that answered itself, said answer being born by the rapid fire paw pad falls of a wolfos, who came bounding down the side road a few moments after they returned, and almost collided with the group of spa goers in its eagerness to be reunited with the princess.

”Gah, what the fuck” Midna cried out in alarm as it near bowled her over in its enthusiasm, but fortunately the wolf had the good graces to skid to a halt before her and then give her a bark followed by doing a quick 360 circle before finally sitting down before her, wagging its tail all the while

”Wait. Right. Scout wolfos. Your back!” Midna said, watching herself up on what was going on and then demanding to know ”If you’re back then you should have found the others? But why are you alone? Where are they?”

Her response was another bark, followed by the wolfos getting up and pointing back the way it came with its snout, before looking back at her expectantly. She didn't need to question why it was doing that at least. Even if it had only been half a day really, it was a little nostalgic to be getting back in the proverbial saddle (maybe she should get them some of those to improve her riding experience), Minda thought as she floated down, landed on her mount’s back and then sped off through the city, dodging through the evening traffic and over rooftops below the rising moon.

Soon enough they found their way to a hotel and there she found the quadrant of lost souls all safe and sound, having been found by the bugs and wolfos, and then found again by, of all people, one of the ones who had been frozen in amber back at the candy town. She’d also slaughtered all of the queen’s ant minions. Midna... Didn't really know what to say or do about that, other than be relieved that Peacock hasn't killed anyone or anything else. She seemed a touch unhinged, and that was if you were being generous.

The only thing keeping her from trying to deal with that personally was that she was apparently a friend of Band, so she’d let the big man handle handling her unstableness. She had a busy day full of commitments ahead of her tomorrow, and so after a bit of talk with the absentees where she caught them up on what had gone on in town and they on their desert trip, she headed to get some well deserved rest.

Said rest was rudely interrupted by the arrival of a large purple airship that flew in and hovered above the city at about 1 am in the morning, its low flying thruster’s roaring and its looming presence causing quite the panic. When Midna stuck her head out the window to figure out what the heck was going on she was greeted by the sound of Crow making an announcement from loudspeakers attached to the airship. He was the other person who they, or specifically she, had freed from the hammer that hadn’t either belonged there, died or joined their quest. He instead had attempted to get in touch with someone from home and, well, based on the announcement he had to make

“Suck it Princess! I told you it would work ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

It looked like it had worked. She gave him a giant glowing middle finger in response, which just got her more laughter when it was spotted by the ship’s master, before it’s thrusters flared and the ship took off into the night, taking the villainous gigglefest away with it.

”Asshat” Midna grumbled before she slammed the window shut and went back to bed. That was past-Midna’s fault and future-Midna’s problem, right now present-Midna needed her beauty sleep.

After a slightly less than optimal night’s sleep Midna rose, quickly breakfasted and then headed out to handle her two pre-train ride commitments.

One was the formal end of the resistance, which managed to go down quite well, with a few teary reunions between some of the (non-criminal) mind control victims and their friends and family, as well as the demonstration of how they bad been mind controlled in the first place going down without a hitch, much to Midna’s relief. Hopefully they’d be out of town before people realized/thought about the fact that said mind control power was still out there and in the hands of a certain less than trustworthy bee queen no less. Then again, maybe that was just her worrying about the potential consequences of that.

For her part, Midna helped set up a returning of stolen goods by summoning the entire collection if items from her realm onto a per-designated spot, which gave her a chance to chat casually with a few of the former resistance (and hooking the freed ones up to the Moogle communication network) who were helping out as an extra sign of good faith, as well as the townsfolk to whom she was returning items too.

Among them was Agitha as she had expected, the bug collector being delighted to be reunited with part of her collection, and then also briefly delightful and then scornful when Midna tried to show off her Vibrava to the girl. It turned out that there was not a buggy bone in its body, or rather, it had bones in its body, which was one among a number of things that made it not a bug.

The princess learned a fair bit about insect anatomy while helping sort out the rest of the stolen goods as a result. There were worse ways to spend a day, and it was nice to know at least one person from home was doing alright in this mixed up reality.

Impa turned out to not be among those present however, despite what she had thought was her armor piece being part of the stolen goods. The item turned out to belong to some no name mercenary, and any possibility of forming a connection with the merc’s group was spoiled by Midna’s brief arguing about it not being their property.

Midna, content with her work and having gained a bit of goodwill and a few connections in town as a result of it, hit the bricks after the initial rush had died down, and it was only the unmissed or contentiously owned items left over and headed for her other appointment.

Following some directions and the softly growing glow on her friendship bracelet, the princess found her way to the forge Yoshitsune had commissioned to have his blades repaired at and, based on her promise from the night before to give him the sparring session he’d missed out on with the Spa’s burly guards, gave him an ample opportunity to test out the smith’s handiwork.

Despite some flashy electrical tricks pulled out of her steadily increasing taping of Urbosa’s skills power, there was no way in hell she was going to win going toe to two with a master swordsman like him on her first real try with a sword. Still, she did better than she had any right to do, predominantly again thanks to Urbosa who’s spirit was encouraging her to go down this path in the first place.

The princess took the loss mostly graciously, with only a token comment with 0 bite behind it on how she was holding back her true power in-order to get better with the sword, and was more than happy to take his tips and a touch of more training oriented bouts before it was well past time to head for the train station.

They arrived together a little while later, ready to ride into danger and face down their first encounter with one of Galeem’s guardians.

Though it would still be quite a while to sunset, one could tell by the light itself that the lazy afternoon enveloping this colorful little slice of the Mushroom Kingdom was turning to evening. On the parapets of Peach’s Castle there hung no handy clocks to tell the time with, but it by anyone’s guess it was some time between the hours of five and six. The last few hours rolled by uneventfully, with little to do but watch the birds and waddlewings soar through a bright blue sky, or attempt to divine shapes in the clouds. Oddly-shaped birds milled around the castle as well, frequenting the trees near the moat. Stable as ever, Hat Kid’s spaceship floated within, a constant source of curiosity for the variety of fishes swimming throughout. From up high the whole of the junkyard could be seen, and without the robot horde that once infested it, the rolling hills and valleys of scrap metal were the playground of rabbid gangs. They seemed to be feuding with some new arrivals, a gang of green pigs that seemed to like building stuff, but the rivalry was nothing compared to the active warfare from before. Beyond that lay the riverland, and farther still the rocky canyons, stretching all the way to the knoll that overlooked the barren wastes to the south--where a single tree had witnessed the beginning of adventure.

It made for quite the peaceable scene, and comfortable naps came easily, but the watchers on the walls couldn’t afford to relax. Kept awake by cool water, hot coffee, or other refreshing drinks provided by the castle’s toad servants, they watched the perimeter of the junkyard. According to the intelligence received just yesterday, a crazed engineer with a robot army planned to lay siege to Peach’s Castle this very day. With much of the day already done with, tension had only continued to mount. The scouts described a technological genius who could design and program advanced machinery to obey his every word, a long-running nemesis to a certain someone a lot of folks knew by both name and reputation. Even those spoiling for a fight and forced to entertain themselves in the meantime knew not the extent of what weapons Ivo Julius Robotnik, the infamous Doctor Eggman, would bring to bear.

With a sigh, King Dedede plopped down his cup of iced cola, waving a mitten at a Waddle Dee for a refill. Immediately the minion, already prepared with a serving glass, stepped forward to fill him up. To either side of him a Waddle Dee fanned him, helping to stave off the warmth of the sunny day. When it came down to it, roof service wasn’t bad, only a step down from room service, really. But however manageable his accommodations, the big penguin appreciated not having his patience tried. Shifting his weight in his deck chair, he complained, “Guh, how long is this son of a gun gonna take? My doggone keister’s goin’ numb!”

Beside him, Caesar gave a short bark, and with a certain insistent dignity pushed his nose into Dedede’s arm for attention. Absently the king patted the dog’s head, then reached over to take a big drink of his soda.

Caesar's bark also served to wake up any of those slipping up on the job. Specifically Pikachu, who had taken advantage of King Dedede's lounging to rest in his shadow and block out the sun earlier in the day. The electric mouse slowly uncurled, letting out a yawn that was nothing more than a high-pitched squeaky "Chuu~" as he stretched and tried to wake up. It'd been made clear enough for everyone involved that trouble was on the way, even if he didn't truly understand the extent of it, personally. So far it just felt like time to rest, which he didn't mind, but knowing trouble was potentially nearing left the rodent feeling a bit uneasy.

Walking on all fours, Pikachu eyed the edge of the castle walls, before making a leap up to get a better look at the sprawling terrain beyond. His ears perked up, seeming to be listening close for anything coming their way. But with his innocent expression, he kept getting distracted with things that flew by, or any minor commotion going on below. Ears occasionally twitching at an alarming sound, though finding it to be nothing to actually worry about. It all served to make the mouse a bit anxious, a slightly more annoyed "Chuuuu." Audibly escaping him as he began to pace back and forth, to keep a continued eye out.

There was a sudden crash as the rooftop door flew open and smashed into the stone wall holding it, proceeding to startle an alert Pikachu into nearly falling off the roof entirely. Out onto the roof, confident yet surly, strode the one and only Wario. “Can’t expect shrooms to have good taste.” He announced, rolling his shoulders. “Not one piece of finely aged garlic in that whole kitchen.”

The kitchen had been the second place Wario had checked after arriving at the castle, the first being the treasure vault to make sure his compensation for this was going to be as large and gloriously gilded as he remembered it being. It hadn’t been. Some duplicitous thief had taken a ton of the treasure before Wario had gotten around to it and, combined with the fact that he had only been able to raid the kitchen for a smorgasbord of sweets, he was ready to take his frustration out on any robot that dared show its face around the castle.

He sauntered up beside Dedede, knocking aside one of the Waddle’s on fan duty without even noticing, and folded his arms as he looked out across the soon to be battlefield. “Look who’s all cozy. You got another bushwack set up, fat boy?” He said, before flexing one of his arms. “Or are you expectin’ Wario to do the heavy lifting this time?”

Having managed to hang on by his forelegs, Pikachu pulled himself back up to solid ground with a sigh of relief. Though it might have been as unpleasant as falling, if not more, as his sense of smell quickly picked up on Wario. The mouse's face scrunched up and could've possibly turned slightly green, but quickly went back to scouting out beyond the castle walls, not paying particular mind to the conversation behind him.

The Pokemon’s discretion was probably for the best. Though an onlooker might see Dedede and Wario as birds of a feather two rather short-tempered heavyweights used to being in charge made for competition rather than companionship. When the biker started flexing the penguin followed suit, showing off just a fraction of his former glory, but that by itself was impressive enough. “I wun’t even expectin’ ya t’lift yourself up them stairs, boah!” he chuckled. “Since yuh here though, ya’ll get a front-row seat when it’s time fer the king to strut his stuff!”

“We’re not gonna need whatever trap ya’ cooked up.” Wario, who regarded even the biggest beefiest of arms as being slightly smaller than his own, replied. He hadn’t considered, when he had first taken this job, that there were two people involved that he would have to show up. In fact, that pipsqueak Mario was only slightly higher than the King on the grudge totem poll ever since Dedede had gotten the better of him back during that Taboo business. He would have to work for it though, as per the principle stated above anyone capable of getting the better of Wario must be a tactical genius.

While the two went at it, Caesar padded over to Pikachu, his fluffy tail wagging. The pokemon’s surprised exclamation following Wario’s sudden arrival drew his interest and attention, leading him to inquire as to what happened. Naturally, wherever Caesar went, his crossbow-wielded personal guards Horatio and Beatrice followed. Being actual trained soldiers, compared to pretty much everyone else present, they’d maintained a steadfast vigil over the entirety of the Junkyard. Keeping one eye on the magnificent dog and one on the landscape ahead was no issue for professionals like them.

As professional as they were, though, something was tugging at their watchful eyes. Situated down in the junkyard instead of up on the wall where the rest of the team were, perched on top of a small throne of old tires, the ever-smoldering Junkrat gestured wildly, engaged in a conversation with a handful of those junk-loving Rabbids that had pulled away from the feud. A snippet of conversation reached up to the defense team. “...and then I said, ‘That ain’t ya mum’... ‘it was the emu!’” Junkrat practically fell backwards with laughter, even louder than the Rabbids he was telling his joke to, not that they even understood it, just matching his manic energy in turn.

The electric mouse stood on his hindlegs, momentarily confused by the mixed laughter of Junkrat and his Rabbids, but after realizing there was no threat to be found, he quickly turned to address Caesar. With a somewhat embarrassed "Pikaa," the mouse gestured towards the door, before clapping his forelegs together like hands, making a small amount of noise before making a slightly dramatic rendition of how he almost fell off the roof. It ended with a more disgruntled "Chu..!" As he momentarily glared in Wario's direction to mark the cause of the whole ordeal, though it raised a bit of confusion with the mouse as he witnessed Dedede's flex. Even he could see the competitive spark, which he simply hoped didn't escalate into a problem on top of the threat already heading their way.

A fair bit below Pikachu on the intellectual scale despite his eminent bearing and other surpassingly fine qualities, Caesar merely opened his mouth to start panting as he continued to softly swish his tail back and forth. Still, he watched the yellow rodent as if fully cognizant of Pikachu’s meaning, and his big brown eyes contained much wisdom to offer in return.

Dedede, meanwhile, relaxed back into his deck chair, pleased with his display of strength and ready for another round of refreshment. A Waddle Dee offered him a fresh glass of cola, and as he took it in hand the king raised it to speed up the cooling with a few swirls of the ice. Condensation dripped down its crystalline surface and into the fabric of his mitten, darkening it for only the briefest of moments, and the sunlight filtering through the glass made the sweet nectar’s amber hue all the richer. “Ah,” he sighed, smacking his beak. “Even if we’re s’posed t’be on guard duty, it’s mighty nice we got a chance to sit around ‘n...chill…”

He narrowed his eyes. Even though he’d stopped moving, the soda in his glass was shaking. It was very slight, rising slowly from nothing rather than the product of a single large tremor, but the big penguin’s royal eyes missed nothing. Remembering the mission briefing, he gave a shrug and downed his drink in a single gulp, then climbed to his feet. As the others continued to chat he reached down to for his iconic hammer, hefting it on his shoulder as he strode up to the battlements of Peach’s Castle. Standing a solid seven feet tall, King Dedede made for quite the imposing figure when he had his war face on as he did now. “Time t’put yer shoes ‘n socks on, folks,” he told the others, pointing out to the eastern side of the junkyard with his yellow mitten. “We got company.”

The king’s deceptively keen mind beat Caesar’s warning bark by almost a full minute. The bark itself, meanwhile, preceded the enemy’s arrival by just a few moments. Over the eastern wasteland ridge overlooking the junkyard an enormous red-painted tank appeared, cresting the terrain like a leviathan surfacing from the depths of the ocean. Before it's terrific bulk came to a stop its gargantuan bay doors had already yawned open, lowering a ramp that extended down over the east-side border river. It slammed into the ground in a blast of dust. “Goooood evening, puny residents of this picturesque countryside!” a voice boomed over the giant machine’s exterior loudspeakers. “I, Doctor Ivo Julian Robotnik, have come to annex your kingdom and consume your resources for the glory of the Eggman Empire! That’s right, today marks the beginning of my grand campaign to conquer the whole world, and you’ve got the indisputable honor of being my first subjects!”

Down the ramp marched ranks of refurbished mercenary robots freshly painted in Eggman’s colors. A vast quantity off rotund, orange Egg Pawns followed behind them, while EggRobos flew overhead and a handful of Egg Keepers hovered along the flanks. “Oh, and by all means, resist all you like! Make things interesting for the both of us, why don’t you? Ahahahahaha!” The machines began their advance, and the battle was on.

Junkrat was still busy yucking it up with his new hyperkinetic rabbity friends, so Eggman’s grand entrance and maniacal speech was lost on him. In fact, he would have missed the whole invasion if not for the villain’s booming laugh joining in with the rest of them. “Hooh, yeah, this guy knows what’m…” Junkrat trailed off as he realized that ‘this guy’ wasn’t actually anywhere near them. “Where’d ‘e go?” He stood up in search of the mysterious laugher, and only then did he notice Eggman’s giant tank cresting the mountains of scrap.

“Oh, that’s right! The thing’s happenin’!” Junkrat spun around to his Rabbid companions and wagged a finger at them. “Don’t ya move, I’ll have this taken care of and be right back, got a real corker I still haven’t told ya!” Abandoning his chuckle buddies for more pressing (and explosive) matters, Junkrat hobbled further into the junkyard, scrabbling up a small mound of collected junk, slipping and kicking pieces of who-knows-what along the way. At the top, he paused, straightening his back to take in the metallic air, watching the approaching robots with a hint of manic glee. A more manic glee compared to the rest of him, that is.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this,” Junkrat said, striking a match against his rusted pegleg. He bent low, bringing the lit match to a bundle of thin, gray wire jutting out from the top of the mound - a collection of fuses all tied together. They lit quick, flaring up like a small firework before the flame burned down into the mound and splintered off, the lit fuses trailing out and all over the junkyard, dipping into and out of expertly crafted hiding spots dotted around the junk.

The entire yard was rigged to go up. Not even Junkrat knew exactly when.

He really should not have gone unsupervised.

“Hah!” Wario exclaimed, cracking his knuckles. “They don’t look so tough.” He took his eyes off the robots as they filed out to side eye Dedede’s hammer. “Hit me with that.” He said, pointing one fat finger at it while patting himself on the skull with his other hand. “RIght here, straight, hard as ya’ can.”

Voicing no objections, Dedede complied straight away and beaned Wario with his massive mallet to send him flying over the battlements of Peach’s castle and down to get up close and personal with the machines. “Waaaaaanotlikethatyoustupidpenguin!” Wario yelled as he flew into the distance. With a bark Caesar jumped up on the ramparts, evidently eager to get to the action, and his bodyguards stood ran up beside him. Though this made for a good vantage point, the range of their crossbows meant that the would only be able to shoot down at an enemy already at the castle’s drawbridge. “Hold tight an’ don’t cause a ruckus,” Dedede told them. “I’ll getcha down.” He opened wide, inhaling air to puff himself up in a literal rather than figurative sense, and vacuumed all three up. Then he leaped over the edge to float down to the battlefield.

The electric mouse took in the sight of the robotic menace, Dedede's word being enough to make it clear this was what they had been waiting for. The unnatural look of the machines made Pikachu feel uneasy, though he hardly identified them as robots himself; They were creatures, just on the wrong side of the conflict as they'd soon find out. With a lack of hesitation, he made his own advance towards the oncoming forces, a small assortment of quick-attacks allowing for Pikachu to traverse down to ground level at a fast pace.

Fleet-footed and combat minded, Pikachu wasn't afraid of heading towards these newfound opponents. A lack of trainer left him to his own mind, and the kindness of the toads providing him with water and food was more than enough reason to defend the castle. That being said, he wasn't confident enough to just ram head-first into a small army of robots, not until there was a fair enough opening anyhow. What was a Pokemon to do, in a situation like this?

To him, the answer was simple. He might've been just a Pokemon, but he'd seen a lot of confrontation. And had at least a little bit of strategy up in his noggin to keep him from getting too hurt. Unaware of the abilities of the machines, Pikachu would take a cautionary approach to the start of the battle until he understood things a bit better. In this case that meant circling to the opponent's side, diverting attention as he kicked off his assault by firing off multiple Thunder Jolts, the round electric orbs traversing along the ground and towards the approaching forces.

As Pikachu began his strafing run, Caesar and his bodyguards sprinted across the castle’s drawbridge toward the archway of giant blocks that led to the Junkyard. Being part of the second group meant to go after Eggman’s base, Dedede brought up the rear alongside Roadhog, and both stopped at the threshold to serve as a last line of defense. With Wario, Junkrat, and Pikachu already harrying the machines as that approached, that left just Horatio, Beatrice, and their canine commander staring across the heaps of scrap at the incoming ranks of robots.

Or so it seemed. Threatened by their old nemeses once again, the raving Rabbids of 1-1 quickly rallied under their ringleader, the prodigious Buckler whose size, shield, and shotgun marked him as the long-eared gang’s number-one combatant. Even as Junkrat’s fuses burned beneath the clutter and Pikachu jolted the foe with electricity, the battlefield came alive with blaster fire. Ziggies exchanged shots with the RED bots and Eggrobos as they gathered from all over, retreating toward Peach’s Castle either due to fear of Junkrat’s explosive traps or a simple desire for safety in numbers. In just a few moments, a couple dozen of the trigger-happy goobers had taken cover near the Junkyard’s entrance, with Buckler standing tall alongside Caesar. The big Rabbid nodded toward the Mercenaries, sharing the tacit understanding that they would cooperate against the machines.

Meanwhile, Pikachu, Wario, and Junkrat’s first foray against Eggman’s army earned them a couple kills, but quickly turned to their disadvantage. None of their enemies boasted the strength of a Notable Spirit, but they had the numbers and versatility to overwhelm any lone combatants that might try to do more than slow them down. The fliers struck from above while the robo-scouts and robo-pyros flanked under the cover of Eggrobos, robo-heavies, robo-soldiers, and robo-demomen, giving the weak but ubiquitous Egg Pawns enough time to march forward and swarm unwary opposition. Caesar’s majestic bark echoed across the battlefield, urging the frontrunners to fall back to where the Rabbids were entrenching themselves to even the odds.

Pikachu followed the commanding bark by scrambling backwards, the rodent not initially realizing the arsenal his opponent wielded for ranged fighting, and the increasing numbers caused concern. At first the counter assault from the Rabbids left Pikachu wondering if he was being attacked from both sides, but thankfully it quickly became clear the creatures were on his side with their targeting of the orange robotic menace. Which Pikachu had no time to ignore, as they opened fire and caused him to turn to retreat.

Dirt kicked up as scattergun pellets landed in close vicinity to the electric mouse, a fleet-footed robo-scout attempting to close in for pest disposal. Not wanting to be filled with lead, Pikachu made use of his quick-attack to pull a 180 and zip beneath the robo-scout's legs, it's head fully turning to see what happened but Pikachu was already charging his attack; Crashing into the back of the robo-scout with a powerful Skull Bash, the rodent smashed through the machine that let out a death cry through it's poor internal speakers as it’s shattered body fell to the ground.

Using the momentum of his Skull Bash Pikachu continued a retreat. However, ears picking up on a 'plomp' sound from behind caused the mouse to look back and notice a red-blinking pill from a robo-demoman grenade launcher flying his way. Annoyed by the pursuit and wanting to fight back, he leapt upwards, twisting his body in full-rotation to build momentum with his tail, which swatted the pill back in the direction of the incoming robots, soaring high but quickly coming down to smack a flying EggRobo in the head, the explosion bringing it crashing down as a pile of fiery scrap onto the others.

As the frontline got closer, Pikachu took to once again attempting a full retreat: Bolting directly towards the entrenched Rabbids while trying to stay out of their line of fire. The most important thing he could do was learn how the enemy worked, and how he could counter them. Unfortunately, the robo-pyro's flames were a danger for him, and he'd need to avoid them the most. But he also couldn't allow them to reach the defensive line, either. This left him using his one ranged option, his Thunder Jolts, to pressure the front line and prepare to jump forward if the enemy forces began to overwhelm their defenses.

Wario couldn’t respond immediately to the bark because he had a nasty habit of losing control of himself when he was on fire. Unlike the electric mouse he had been confident enough to meet the robots head on, or at least to use the distraction provided by the pokemon and the rabbits to start moving from cover to cover, shoulder checking the occupied robots, and then shot putting at those annoying flying ones that didn’t want to come into grappling range. That, unfortunately, had come to a stop when one of those gas mask robots had rounded on him with their nozzle. It had opened out on him with a gout of flame and Wario had gone up like a greased rag. It hadn’t ended so well for the robot either, as it did nothing to slow Wario down. As a matter of fact his panicked legs sent him careening right over the unfortunate robot and anything else in his way, his flailing arms only serving to cause the flames to spread faster. Robots of all kinds were thrown into the air like fireworks as Wario sprinted about the field, ping-ponging off of the different piles of junk, as the fire consumed him more and more. A fortunate ping sent him running back in the direction of the bridge, but by that time there was no Wario any longer. Just a slow moving pillar of flame that crept back toward its comrades.

Having thought he was safe, Pikachu was horrified to turn and see Wario’s now flame-engulfed self barreling in his direction. A quick action of diving to the side was all he could do to avoid the burnt-garlic smelling flame, looking back at it in total confusion and concern.

As it reached the bridge the fire dissipated, having run out of things to burn, leaving only a pile of ash where the smash brother had once stood.

Then the ash pile scattered as Wario popped right out of it like the mystical phoenix of old, none the worse for wear after the whole ordeal. He dusted himself off and hustled back to the new defensive line. “What?” He asked.

The whiplash of Wario’s comedic havoc, then his gut-wrenchingly unexpected and tragic demise, then his subsequent impossible reappearance left Horatio, Beatrice, Pikachu, and more than a few Rabbids totally flabbergasted. Even King Dedede was taken by surprise, rendered jaw-dropped by his frenemy’s apparent destruction. “Huh?! You stinkin’ rascal, I thought you was kilt! Where’n the Sam Hill you learn t’do that?!”

“Ya’ eat enough asbestos to build up an immunity.” Wario replied confidentially, leaving out that he’d thought it’d been a roll of spoiled cotton candy at the time.

A loud roo-roo-rroo! from Caesar cut through the chaos of the frontrunner’s return and brought everyone’s attention back to the incoming robots. Eggman’s forces were getting close, with the Mercenaries’ efforts and parting shots of the Rabbids having put a dent in their fodder, but they still outnumbered the defenders two to one. With everyone united and the enemies funneled into one force between mountains of blocks and other junk, however, they could really start to turn things around. Caesar’s emphatic encouragement filled Wario with energy, a second wind to accompany his new lease on life, and at his heroic baying the Rabbids opened fire. Blue bolts of energy hammered the machines as they drew near, reducing a good dozen of them to seared, sparking husks of scrap metal.

Yet the robot horde was relentless. Its soldiers plodded over and pushed aside the dissolving remnants of their comrades, bearing down on the Rabbid’s positions faster than the shooters could put them down. Unflinching, unfeeling, the bulk of Eggman’s forces would not deviate from their path even for their own safety, but instead overwhelm the enemy. It was time to make a stand. Rearing up onto his hind legs, Caesar let out a rousing howl, and the Rabbids picked up the cry. A chorus of screams and yells resounded through the Junkyard, culminating in Buckler’s mighty bellow, and the troops got to work. Supporters tossed their bouncing grenades and a couple of tanky Smashers barreled forth to bring the pain, with Buckler in the lead. Even Beatrice and Horatio joined in on the battle cry, loosing their crossbow bolts with deadly precision.

Even though he was perhaps the only one of the defensive line who was aware that any part of this junkyard could start exploding at any moment, Junkrat was certainly not one to sit out of the fun! While the rest of them kept to the front to stave off the surge of invaders, Junkrat kept farther back, hobbling over the high dunes of the various scrap heaps. Trusty grenade launcher in his hand, Junkrat lobbed bomb and bomb at any stragglers that managed to survive the initial clash. Robots popped like firecrackers, either in too many pieces to continue forward or thrown into the junkpiles and impaled on the sticky-outy bits. This junkyard was actually really dangerous. And sure, Junkrat may have been a tad careless with his aim and he might have accidentally sent a whole squadron of Rabbids flying in different directions, but…

“If ya didn’t want collateral damage, you made a bad choice! Eeehahah!”

Rallied by Caesar's bark, Pikachu had charged a full-powered Skull Bash to barrel through the approaching forces with a powerful forward charge. As he launched towards the approaching forces, he crashed through multiple Egg Pawns before getting airblasted into the air by a robo-pyro, crying out as he rapidly flew upwards. The blast brought him up to the sky with the remaining EggRobos, the rodent adapting to it's new mid-air situation by bringing his body forward, tail glowing white as he brought it down forcefully onto the flying robot, cracking it's chassis with a powerful Iron Tail attack that sent it barreling downwards, smashing the robo-pyro and some of the surrounding forces along with it in a small, but notably-sized crater.

Blaster shots were a response from the EggRobos still in the sky, Pikachu momentarily finding himself peppered by the attacks that weren't going to put him down, but still caused some pain. He responded by recovering from his mid-air conundrum with a quick-attack towards one of the junk piles, the electric mouse jumping between surfaces rapidly in an attempt to throw off the aerial attackers, their spinning in place as they tried to get a clear shot making them easy pickings for the ranged attackers below, and for Pikachu, who occasionally stopped his constant movement to lash out by leaping forward off of the junk to apply some shock and awe with his electricity and tail to keep the sky forces as distracted as he could.

Meanwhile Wario turned to the ground troops that were closing in on the rabbits shooting line. Standing with the pair of Smashers, whose bulk and living cover status he appreciated, he set to work on the incoming wave. The three smashed as though their lives depended on it, Wario applying fist, head, and elbow to any machine that wasn’t thrown away by the Smashers driving their pillars into the earth or blasted apart by the suppressing fire of the Ziggy’s behind them. They were lanced with bulles, but they were tough enough to endure and the Supporters behind them were generous with the grenades.

Then there was a startled, high pitched scream beside Wario. He looked away from the latest pile of dissolving scrap to find one of the smashers falling over into the dirt, the red robot responsible cooly flipping a butterfly knife closed behind it. It pulled out a revolver as Wario lunged for it, his jaw distending unnaturally wide as he chomped down. The robot never stood a chance as its entire torso was ground to dust between Wario’s pristine molars.

It was around that point, with the sustained firefight between rabbids and robots surrounding a melee frenzy in the middle, that Eggman’s cruel trick revealed itself. Junkrat wasn’t the only one, it turned out, who was playing with explosives. At the distant mastermind’s signal, the dormant bombs rigged inside each and every machine came online. Out of nowhere the machines began to detonate when destroyed, starting with the half-masticated spy-bot in Wario’s jaw. An explosion went off inside him, and though hardly lethal to a man with iron innards who could eat bob-ombs and be left with nothing but a scorched face plus smoky burp, it left him incapacitated long enough that he couldn’t warn the others in time.

With a lack of warning, Pikachu haphazardly flung himself at another EggRobo to smash it apart with a Skull Bash, but was taken entirely off guard upon impact. As he smashed into the machine, it detonated, sending the small Pokemon flying through the air with a loud cry, back over the defensive line. Landing harshly, he rolled along the ground a fair distance before coming to an eventual stop. Absolutely floored by the unexpected attack, even if he could communicate with the rest of the defensive team to warn them, he was struggling to even pull himself up during those crucial moments.

Eggman hatched his scheme to devastating effect. Immediately the rabbids’ cover started getting obliterated a chunk at a time, the machines’ explosions taking a few of the lapins cretins with them. Taken totally by surprise, many of the rank-and-file rabbids broke ranks and fled, mostly to safer positions but a handful out of the warzone completely. As the battlefield shook under the weight of more than a dozen blasts in quick succession, Caesar turned tail and galloped back toward the drawbridge where Roadhog and King Dedede stood by, and after his bodyguards covered their commander’s retreat they followed. Behind them, too close for comfort, lay the moat. The enemy force had dwindled, but the defenders had barely any room left to work with, and their enemies’ explosions meant that their advance could gain ground that much more easily. As the rabbids hunkered down along the final stretch of cover, their erratic and nervous shooting helped to solidify the realization dawning on the defenders: that even with the reserves lending a hand, holding the Junkyard might be a lost cause.

Before they could begin to fall back to Peach’s Castle, however, Junkrat’s own surprise finally came into play. A series of shrapnel-slinging explosions went off across the battlefield, both wrecking any nearby bots and causing their own blasts to go off prematurely. This caused a chain reaction that blew through a whole swath of the enemy force, leaving almost all of the marching fodder wiped out. That left just the more independent merc-bots, a few flying EggRobos, and the Egg Keepers.

Junkrat - the man of the hour, the day, and of tomorrow - wasn’t with his comrades. Exploding robots may have sent sensible people running, it only made the singed and unhinged scavenger draw closer. He was in the veritable belly of the beast, one-sidedly smashing up any robot that passed his way while the tide surged towards their intended target, when it happened. Junkrat’s trained pyrotechnician’s ear caught the faint but very distinct sound of a fuse fizzling up. He lurched in place as a manic chuckle threatened to escape him, and he crouched down, unable to suppress his fit of giggles as he plugged both his ears with his fingers. And then came the boom.

It was magical. Not a single dud among his explosives. A symphony of cacophonous noise and thunder that rattled his teeth. And it continued on, each explosion taking a swathe of robots with it, which in turn blew up and destroyed the robots around them, and so on, so forth. As the initial blasts lead into the increasing number of explosions like a string of dominos made of dynamite, Junkrat stood straight, straighter than he ever had before. A single tear fell from his eye. “Marvelous…”

Though panicked for a moment, Dedede rested his hammer back on his shoulder. “Looks like that grenade-huckin’ varmint did ‘is job! Fellas? Mop ‘em up!”

Caesar’s bark of renewal rang out in agreement. It was time to turn the tide.

Although shaky, Pikachu pulled himself up with a squeaky ”Kaa..” that expressed the strain he felt. He was a bit scorched and obviously damaged, but it was clear the rodent wasn't ready to lay down and faint just yet. With the knowledge that they were now self-destructing upon being defeated, Pikachu noted that it'd be difficult to get beside, and especially behind, the forces now quickly descending upon them And that his close-ranged attacks were out of the question now. Though, the small electric mouse had a plan. The only problem being he needed a lift, and there was only one powerhouse that Pikachu figured could help with that.

Pushing past any reluctant thoughts on the matter, Pikachu scurried up Wario's back and stood upon one of his stocky shoulders. Although unable to truly convey himself vocally aside from a tone of urgency, he tried to get his point across by standing on his hindlegs and using his forelegs to gesture. "Pi!" He brought a leg back as if he was going to throw something. "Ka!" He then actually imitated the toss, before pressing both of his forelegs against himself while staring at the garlic-scented man. "Chu!"

Wario spit some of the sharpness that had been lodged in his esophagus as he watched the little yellow rat perform his little mime routine now that the australia rat’s booby trap had bought them some breathing room. “Ahh!” He said, grabbing the Pokemom. “Wa!” He leaned back, holding Pikachu in one hand like a pro football player. “Ri!” He said, as sound that could only be the iconic noise of building power began emanating from his muscles. Wario actually began to flash as the noise reached a fever pitch. “Oh!” He said, as the power was released. His arm snapped forward, launching Pikachu high into the skies above.

Soaring unlike Arceus intended for his kind like a miniature poké-float in the sky, Pikachu's small form made an easy long-distance throw for the likes of Wario and it gave the rodent the exact height advantage he needed. His bright yellow form a momentary distraction for the still-marching robotic forces, drawing fire but managing to mostly keep unscathed by midair twists and turns that kept him out of harm's way. The mouse tried to keep focused below, starting to visibly trickle with electricity as it watched below for the center of the remaining horde, wanting to strike at the heart of the forces and reduce them to scrap.

The sky above Pikachu darkened immensely, as if a huge storm had rolled in seemingly out of nowhere as drifting white clouds turned to gray. Knowing his job and just how to accomplish it, the surging mouse saw his opportunity and braced itself, letting out a loud cry as it called a mighty bolt of Thunder down from the sky. It instantly split the ground as it coursed directly through one of the remaining robotic mercenaries, the machine exploding but being only one of many as the ground around the forces cracked, electricity crackling through the area and causing immense damage to the group of robots at large. The chain reaction of explosions wasn't much compared to the chaos the Australian rat had caused, but it brought the enemy's already dwindling numbers to nearly nothing but a rain of scrap and wreckage.

Unfortunately for Pikachu, already tired and somewhat beaten, such an attack was too much. Above the wreckage, he could be seen drifting down towards the ground with seemingly no means of stopping himself. The rodent expended what strength he had to try and finish off Eggman's remaining assault, and was now left as simple target practice for the remaining EggRobos, who took aim and prepared to turn the small rat into nothing with blaster fire.

From behind the fight at large, an individual jumped off the walls of Peach's Castle. He drifted in the air gliding along and only descending at a slow rate, stopping said descent as he grabbed the brim of his hat and seemingly floated upwards into a front flip over the defensive line: With a lack of hesitance and but a flick of his wrist he sent out what seemed to be an everyday red yo-yo with his other hand to snatch Pikachu out of the air by wrapping him with the string, pulling the small creature to him to protect it. Seemingly throwing them both into harm's way of the EggRobos’ blaster fire that was now directing at two bundled targets instead of one, it looked for a moment that both would end up on the wrong side of gunfire and possibly perish.

"P.K... Magnet!"

A blue forcefield of pure physic energy surrounded both the boy and the rodent, absorbing the projectiles coming their way preventing any harm. This left the aggressive EggRobos easy pickings as they tried to break it with continuous fire in what seemed to be a useless effort. Though for the moment it left the boy, Ness, on the defensive using his PSI abilities to keep Pikachu guarded until he had an opportunity to actually retreat back with the injured mouse.

The one-two punch of Junkrat's explosive mayhem and Pikachu's lightning storm dealt irreparable harm to Eggman's incursion, leaving only a few handfuls of machines still functional to try and take revenge for their fallen brothers. The rodent duo's efforts served not just to reduce the enemy forces, but also to embolden and open the way for their allies, and the raving Rabbids were all to happy to charge forward and mop things up. Wario joined the smashers to reduce the more aggressive robotic remnants to scrap metal, while those still grouped together for defense became easy targets for blaster fire, lobbed grenades from Junkrat, and the deadly hook-meatshot-melee combo from Roadhog. Thanks to Ness, the machines even failed to punish Pikachu for the attack that left him overextended and overexerted. It wasn't long before the last robots of Eggman's army, unable to retreat, were hunted down and destroyed.

The battle had been hard-fought, with a great many wounds and more than a few lost Rabbids on the side of the defenders, but in the end they'd won themselves a complete victory. When the mad doctor's broadcasted voice resounded across the junkyard once more, however, Eggman sounded cool as a cucumber. "Pardon me for interrupting what I'm sure feels like a very well-earned session of patting yourselves on the back, but if you think you've beaten me, you're even dumber than you look. What you fought just now were really just the lowest of the low--generation one of the glorious New Eggman Empire's robotic hordes. Not bad for starting from scratch though, huh? By my count we bagged over a dozen bunnies, and every one of those annoying pests you lose is one you won't get back, while my creations are infinitely replaceable...and improvable! In fact, I really must thank you for putting my prototypes through their paces and providing such excellent combat data. Tomorrow's batch will put today's to shame, and even if you beat them, they'll be even tougher the day after. I'll keep coming as long as it takes, picking you off one by one until every last one of you is dead, and this idyllic kingdom is all mine!"

For a couple moments his cackles rolled across the battlefield, but after trailing off Eggman leaned into the microphone, his voice low and serious. "That is what it means to be at war. So rest up, enjoy what time you have, and when the time comes fight with all you've got. It'll make my conquest that much sweeter." Then, with a final blip, his voice was gone. The enormous vehicle atop the crag overlooking the junkyard began to roll backward, departing for home base.

For a moment, Ness' gaze traveled from the scrap across the battlefield, the Rabbids’ spirits sprawled about, and the transport machine that began to roll away. War, that's what this was? For the sake of flexing an ego and leaving nothing behind but bodies, for what? Territory? The fun of it? The fact that people like Eggman existed brought a sick feeling to the boy's gut, and as he looked down at the creature in his arms, his eyes narrowed into a determined glare. They didn't have time to wait around for another attack, that's how he saw it. Eggman pointed it out himself that he'd have more and more robots to overrun this castle, and if this was just the beginning yet those bots managed to get so close, waiting for a future assault wasn't an option.

Focusing some of the power absorbed from Magnet, he used it to apply PSI Lifeup β to Pikachu. It allowed the rodent to at least regain consciousness, stirring awake and managing to weakly stand once Ness slowly lowered him to the ground. "We can't just let that thing roll away, right?" Ness questioned aloud, turning to look back at where their opposition had come from. "If we follow after it, we might be able to find where he's making his army."

“That’s what we’re here for, son!” Dedede announced, waddling forward with his hammer hefted over his shoulder. Roadhog advanced beside him, a silent colossus that rivaled the king penguin in height despite being one hundred percent human, unless that piggish mask of his hid something other than a face. The rabbids around them dispersed to take a well-earned siesta, but for the Mercenaries the end of their defense meant that it was time to launch an offense of their own. “Y’all ready? That jumbo hunka junk’s big, but if we dawdle ‘round any longer we’ll lose it anyways. Let’s mosey!”

Although weak, Pikachu heeded Dedede's call for action. He slowly moved forward, a concerned Ness turning to get in the mouse's way. The boy crouched down, gently laying a hand on Pikachu's head. "You took a lot of damage," He noted with a small frown. "You ought to stay and recover here, we can handle the rest." Although Ness' heart was in the right place, it wasn't difficult to tell the small Pokemon was quite stubborn as it pushed against his hand and wanted to get past anyways. "Piii!" The rodent audibly complained, a slight aggression in his tone.

Closing his eyes, Ness took to using his telepathy to come to a full understanding of the mouse's words. Realizing quickly it was quite careless to leave Pikachu as-is if he was so insistent on coming along, Ness was quick to rise back to full-height, his eyes opening to look down at the feisty little creature. "Okay." He said simply in compliance, turning away. Raising a hand, he patted his own shoulder, head turning enough to see Pikachu with one eye. Who looked at Ness in momentary confusion, before picking up on his intentions. He climbed up onto Ness's shoulder, seeming appreciative if a small lick to Ness' face was any indication, deciding to use the opportunity to rest up a little bit on the way.

Slightly embarrassed, Ness managed to hold back a joyous little laugh to instead focus on the task at hand. "Right, no more waiting. I can heal on the way, if anyone's hurt." He noted to the other mercenaries, before beginning to march off in pursuit of that machine. Despite being small in both the age and height department, Ness showed a notable lack of fear that went well with his calm demeanor. This wasn't his first war, and in his opinion, this one was much less frightening than the beings he'd faced before.

And just like then, he had no intention of losing.

Once outside, Jesse breathed in the open air, putting her hands in the pocket of her jacket. She cast her eyes over the rooftops of the buildings across the street, where she knew the Museum of Vanity was. It wasn’t a good idea to go in there without the Phantom Thieves support- at least not all the way. But Jesse was itching for some more action, and leaving that evil paint monster to terrorize people wasn’t sitting right.

(How do we eat an elephant?)

“Hey.” Jesse said, catching Mao’s attention. “You like fighting, right?”

"You could say that." Mao replied with a hint of curiosity in his tone, a shrug of his shoulders aiding to make his vermillion cape flow. "Why? The Resistance not enough trouble for one day?"

Jesse smirked. “You could say that.” She replied in kind. “There’s trouble at the Museum. Crazy guy made out of paintings. I don’t want to push into the center of the maze where he is, as it were, but I do want to go in there and start taking out some of the monsters he has protecting him. Just so when we all attack for real, there’s nothing to slow us down. I was gonna just do it alone, but if you’re interested…” Jesse rolled her right shoulder. “It’s an open invite.”

A slight grin on his face, Mao found this to be a profitable situation in multiple ways. Jesse, from his experience with her prior, seemed to not have the same wary nature as some of the others when it came to a fight. The way an already out Nastasia had been executed being a brilliant example. Plus, they were, as she said, 'monsters'. And what were monsters good for? Training, of course! And considering how this world worked? Potential servants, or even treasure.

"Clearing out forces to leave the big 'boss' open?" He mused, figuring he could take this 'crazy painting guy' without much issue, though the prospect of looting all of his servants instead sounded promising. "You've sold me," He said in agreement, nodding his head. "I won't pass up an opportunity to examine more Spirits."

“You got it. I’m also looking for materials to upgrade my Service Weapon, so it’s a win-win.” Jesse briefly apparated the shiny, stone-like pistol to demonstrate and admire it. “I’ve fought these things before. They look like weird security guards, and then explode into monsters when you get close. In short: target practice.” She waved the weapon away.

Although the explanation was odd, Mao could roll with it. "Even if they do transform, it won't make a difference. By the time I'm done, this 'guy' made of paintings will have to rebrand his museum as a morgue." Confident as ever, he was.

“All right, let’s roll.” She jerked her head over her shoulder and led the way. “I didn’t wanna distract anyone from their night of relaxation. But, y’know, you like fighting and I don’t really do idle very well.”

"Like I'd sleep with the idea that Validar might still try to throw me in prison tomorrow," Mao remarked, following without missing a beat. "Might as well get some training in, before they end up trying to backstab us tomorrow."

“Don’t trust him, huh?” Jesse shrugged. “I don’t think it’s in their best interests to betray us. If he follows through on this deal, we’ll be out of his hair faster.”

They navigated the evening streets to the Museum of Vanity. It was a large, garish building made of orange cubessurrounded by a gate.

Mao stared up at the building, it's eyesore appearance familiar in the less than golden vista that surrounded it. "I was wondering what this eyesore was," He commented as his upward-tilted head caused his hood to fall off. "Museum makes sense, this place just screams 'modern art'."

Jesse just shrugged. “Eh. Modern art gets a bad rap. But y’know, this guy isn’t exactly helping. Madarame, I think his name was. First things first, we gotta get past the guards. I only got in last time because I clocked a thief trying to steal some sculpture. During our escape there was, uh, a car crash. Preeetty sure I’m on their blacklist. So this time, we’re gonna have to be sneaky. Once we’re inside the museum though, we’ll be in some kind of distorted, ‘bigger-on-the-inside’ style pocket dimension gallery...thingy. Then, we’ll be as loud as we want.” Jesse reached inside her jacket holster and produced the Tool Gun.

“I love this thing. Dunno how I lived without it.” She guided Mao to a section of the gate away from the view of the guards. She hit the posts of the fence with a few quiet blue beams and peaked her head inside the wall. When the coast was clear she gestured for Mao to follow her and stepped inside the perimeter fence, phasing right through.

Which made Mao do a double-take, blinking and staring at what he assumed was a solid object moments before. Reaching a hand out and realizing he could also go through, he let out a mildly stunned "The hell?" before he slowly followed in her footsteps, considering the experience oddly surreal as for all the things he did know, or had experienced, having a tool that could let you walk through solid matter was not at all something he'd seen before. "That's the thing you used back at the elevator," He recalled, noting it also had shrinking and growing capabilities. "Just how many features does it have?"

Jesse’s eyes admired her second favorite pistol. “Five, actually.” She stuck out the relevant amount of fingers. “No-Collide, Inflate, Thruster, Balloon, and Weld. I think it can do more, but I haven’t been able to bond with the object enough to get them. Now come on, gotta be quick, before the guards see us.” She hit the fence with a similar beam, re-colliding it. She jogged into the Museum of Vanity. There were no guards on the inside, the guards perhaps too overly reliant on their big wall and gate.

“This way.” She lead Mao past a public area, through a door, and into a courtyard, where a colorful doorway topped with massive fake peacock feathers that glared at them with angry eyes. “Madarame is way into this place. But we’ll just poke holes in the outskirts, for now. To be honest, I think the two of us would be able to take him, but there’s literally no reason to risk it. So I won’t.” Pushing through the beaded door she led Mao inward to the distorted gallery, where the paintings on the wall made even less sense and the entire place took on a more sinister vibe.

Having thought the outside was an eyesore, the farther in they went seemed to only make things feel worse. Mao's eyes scanned the paintings on the walls, the whole area feeling disjointed from the courtyard they'd just been in. "Sounds good to me," As much as Mao would love cleaning up other people's work, tomorrow was already looking to be a busy day. So striking at Madarame's defenses and leaving him for later, whatever the beef really was with him, felt fine. "We'll just put plenty of fear into him. Anyone with a pompous place like this is just asking to be beat down and pillaged for resources, anyways!"

As if on schedule, they could see a few figures at the other end of the room. Security, much as Jesse described, but considering Mao's scrappy nature he wasn't anywhere near showing concern over such a thing. Even with the knowledge of them having transformations, it merely meant that things would be more interesting. "Speaking of resources!" He called out, easily getting the attention of the three initial figures that seemed to realize the entrance was opened by very unwelcome guests. Mao had to stare in almost childlike wonder as they violently reacted to their presence, their humanoid forms proving to indeed just be a farce as the dark mass within wildly shifted , the center one taking the form of a massive red Yoki wielding a large and dangerous-looking Odachi. While the two security guards to its sides seems to take form in the air, becoming a duo of devious and rude Blue Imps that flew above the floor on their kites, cackling at the duo as if they were nothing more than a punchline to their latest insult.

“Okay, here we go.” Jesse summoned her shifting Service Weapon into her hand. “I’ll try to keep the flying ones off you.” The blue imps began firing quick little blue energy projectiles out at the pair, which Jesse side-strafed while Mao recklessly went forward, his four extra limbs aiding in allowing for him to maneuver around the oncoming projectiles with twists and turns. They scattered across the ground, creating scratch marks. Her Service Weapon was in Grip form. As she strafed, she aimed her pistol with one hand. The first couple of shots missed, but she used them to hone in the flying blue target and struck its center of mass. The Blue Imp glared at Jesse, angry but its anger quickly faded as two more shots penetrated through his body, destroying its kite and sending it full of holes onto the museum floor, where it landed hard and poofed into dust.

The red Yoki, still supported by the remaining imp, charged forward with its sword and swung downward upon Mao’s head.

Mao dodged to it's left, drill and scalpel limbs colliding with the ground to allow him to roll out of the way, still having a free hand to ready his spear as the creature's two-handed blade slammed into the ground. Pushing himself back towards the large red demon, Mao's spear dug into the Yoki's arm, causing it to roar in a mixture of pain and anger, showering the area in a vile drool that disgustingly enough happened to land on Mao's cape. Not a pushover by any means, the Yoki raised it's pierced arm, showing strength as it took Mao along with it: Flailing the overlord into the air and conveniently enough providing cover for the remaining Imp, which promptly cackled at Mao's expense and took the opportunity to swoop and kick him in the head, before the Yoki slammed him into the floor. It lifted it's Odachi with one hand, a volatile war cry filling the museum as it decided to bring it's weapon down on a trapped target this time.

For a moment, Mao braced for impact. But one eye opened as a voice rang out, perhaps to the room as a whole, or just inside his head. Gravely to an extreme, and snarling like it was some sort of wild animal.

"YOU'RE GOING TO GET US KILLED."

Two arms of mineral matter formed above Mao's shoulders, swinging forward and colliding it's claws against the Yoki's blade, shattering it. Not one to leave an opportunity alone, Mao revved his drill and dug it into the arm the large red creature was using to hold him down. It naturally recoiled rather than losing an entire arm, but to it's horror whatever was happening with Mao wasn't quite done with it yet. The arms of smooth and dark stone pushed Mao up to his feet, revealing extra mass that had conjured behind him, opening almost like a shell at it's torso as it drifted behind the overlord, eyes glaring below it’s large horns. "Who the hell are you?! I don't remember having any golems as servants!" Mao questioned aloud, though the creature seemed less than interested.

"LESS TALKING," It demanded, brushing the claws on its arms together. "MORE VIOLENCE." It launched forward, claws at the ready to slay the Yoki and leave it as nothing but shreds on the floor. It's broken blade merely bounced off the rock monster, leaving it open to having it's chest dug into by claws that seemed more dangerous than they might at first glance, with their stony appearance. With a roar that put the Yoki's to shame, it ripped the sword-wielding creature in half from it's chest cavity, reducing it to nothing more than ashes on the ground as the two uneven halves fell.

The Blue Imp, utterly terrified, attempted to flee to find reinforcements. Jesse put a bullet through its brain and it disintegrated. Invisible to Mao, she saw geometric shapes and little grey, almost felt-like shapes drop from its body and float into her gun. Raising an eyebrow, Jesse approached Mao and his new friend.

“That’s new, huh?” She indicated the rock arms. “Useful?”

"Useful? Maybe, but that doesn't explain what the hell it is," Mao responded, not even distracted enough by the spirits to keep from staring at the floating monster before him, that seemed to essentially sprout out of his body. "You've got a lot to explain, and fast, before I reduce you into a pile of pebbles!"

"TRY, YOU'D JUST KILL US BOTH, LIKE YOU ALMOST DID MOMENTS AGO." It bickered, bringing forth somewhat of an answer along with the threat: "WE ARE TETHERED, STUCK TO THE SAME SPIRIT. I ONLY INTERVENED TO KEEP MYSELF ALIVE!"

Crossing his arms, Mao seemed displeased with a realization that came to mind. "Wait. I recognize you... You were with that scrawny punk that tried to attack me underground!"

"I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT,," It responded, shifting behind Mao. "AND I DON’T CARE. THE CONCEPT OF BEING LINKED TO SOMEONE ELSE IS UTTER HELL IN ITSELF. " It informed, in a very plain and forward, yet extremely loud manner.

Realizing he brought this upon himself, Mao rested a hand on his temple and huffed out a sigh of frustration. "I think I’m starting to understand that, you bucket of stones! Listen, there's only one way I can think will ever possibly 'unstick' us, and that's by killing-"

"--GALEEM, YOU EXPLAINED IT TO THE CHILD WITH THE VERY LARGE AND CRUSHABLE LOOKING SKULL." It responded, interrupting Mao. "KILLING IS ACCEPTABLE. IF I CAN'T END YOU, THEN I CAN AT LEAST END SOMEONE ELSE."

Raising a brow at the creature, Mao shrugged. "Yeah, just don't kill that big-headed guy. Or the people actually trying to fight the real problem."

Jesse glanced between the odd couple. “...Well, anyway. No doubt we set off some alarms. We were a little quieter last time through, but only a little.” She heard approaching footsteps on the tile. Several more security guards entered the room, spotted them with their faceless heads, and exploded and shifted into more demons from folk-lore.

This group was a little bigger, a few patrols having banded together to take on the intruder force. Three steaming red Yoki, one with an axe, one with a spear, another with a large curved sword. Four more Blue Imps cackled into the room, floating like annoying kites. But one of the guards remained in his security uniform as he wheeled some kind of wooden cart behind him. Wheeling in, he set it down before shifting into a fifth Blue Imp that also took flight.

From said cart, a ghostly green feminie figure emerged, bringing with her verdant flames and long, unfurled scrolls that grasped at the air like cloying tendrils. The Fuguruma began to conjure forth sickly green fire.

She released the flames in a shrieking fireball in Jesse and Mao’s direction. Instinctively, the Director took a step forward and raised both her hands. The tiles of the Museum tore out of the ground and floated in front of her and Mao. The fireball scattered upon them and the invisible shield of Energy between them. Several more blue imp projectiles stuck into its psychic surface, but the Shield held firm. Jesse smiled. “We’re in business, Mao.”

The trio of Yoki were approaching quickly, weapons raised and muscles tensing with violent intent. The Blue Imps circled above, not wanting to approach just yet, continually laying down suppressive fire on the Shield of energy.

"EXCELLENT," Mao's tethered-rock friend reacted, liking the odds. "DON'T SLOW US DOWN THIS TIME!" Mao could inherently tell such insults were directed at him, and didn't take it lightly. Jesse's shield proved to be a great tool for pushing forward, Mao's left hand glowing with harmful intent as she brought the shield into one of the Yoki, a blunt approach of grinding tiles against the creature's flesh proving to be more effective than the spear attempt from before. "Just watch, you underestimate what you're dealing with!" He boasted, taking a leap into the air over Jesse's shield. Grabbing one of the Yoki's horns, driving his fist directly into it's face. A point-blank explosion left it's upper torso blown off, the overlord standing over the ashes, allowing the remains of the horn to sift between his fingers. "Pathetic!" He spat, though the rock-beast caught his attention soon after.

"DEFEND YOURSELF, FOOL!" The rock-creature demanded, before enclosing Mao into it's center. It's arms spread over his own and serving as a great piece of upper-body armor. The only area left exposed were the bottom of his legs, and his torso from the front. But the Yoki that swung his axe towards Mao from the side had no time to change targets, instead bouncing off of the rock armor along with the Blue Imp’s blasts that went towards Mao, seeing him as a more exposed target. The Yoki became a victim to the combination of fighters as they turned, Mao lacking hesitation in lashing out with the claws now in his possession, swatting the axe aside and jabbing into the Yoki’s chest. Twisting, it caused immense pain as Mao brought the second hand of claws across it’s head, it’s neck twisting and audibly snapping, but it seemed to be more hindered than murdered by this. Regardless, it gave Mao an easy edge to keep up his assault. "It IS useful," Mao remarked back to Jesse his head turning to see a few of the Blue Imps seemed to be soaring over her and past her shield, splitting their efforts by taking multiple angles, or perhaps to just keep away from Mao’s forward onslaught. He found himself trying to prevent the third Yoki's approach as he tried finishing off the second, insisting for Jesse to "Turn around!" at the Imps surely planning to fire upon her from behind.

“Yup.” Jesse had responded after nodding to him about the usefulness of his new arms. Flying enemies usually tried this trick, and Jesse always had a response for them. That is, if this worked again. Jesse leaned backwards, like she was going to wall, and willed herself back. Suddenly, she zoomed nearly twenty feet back, becoming a black blur with a trailing comet of concrete tile. When the dash ended, she was right underneath the circling Blue Imps, who were firing at the empty space where she just was.

They looked down in surprise at her just in time for two of them to receive a mouth full of high velocity ceramic and concrete, shredding them to pieces. Jesse had crossed the arms that held up her Shield and sent it outwards like grape shot. Now that she was in relative close quarters, her Service Weapon switched into Shatter. Hopping out of the way of retaliatory shots, one of which grazed her shoulder, she fired a shotgun blast into the Blue Imp that floated right above her. It exploded, and then dissolved. The Blue Imps realised their mistake and began to fly away, covering their retreat with more bullets. Jesse threw herself to the side and fired after them with Grip, the semi-auto shots cutting one out of the air. It fell to the ground next to Mao’s encounter, its kite ruined, and angrily continued its retreat. Only one Blue Imp managed to escape her counter attack, firing more blue shots at her that she had to avoid. While brutally reprised, their flank attack had done the job of preventing Jesse from assisting Mao, leaving him to deal with the remaining Yoki and the pyromantic ghost on his own.

The rock-claws left the skull of the weakened Yoki, but Mao found himself in a less than ideal 2v1 situation. As the third Yoki charged with it's spear, Mao prepared to defend, but instead found his extended rock-limbs wrapped by the scrolls of the Fuguruma. To his surprise, he was feeling a bit ragged. Like he'd been hit harder, and it was only getting worse. Unable to escape in time, Mao resorted to saving himself with the use of his servant. "Ara Mitama!" Mao called, the demon appearing to shield his torso from the attack. As the spear tried to force itself through, Mao quickly questioned the mineral-fiend. "Why the hell am I getting so tired? Is this your fault?!"

"TETHERING LIKE THIS INSTEAD OF REMAINING REPRESSED CAUSES US TO LOSE POWER," It concluded, essentially taking the blame without actually admitting to it. "IF YOU WERE LESS PATHETIC, THIS WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM."

"I don't have time for you petty insults!" Mao growled, his mechanical limbs banging against the stone keeping them in place. "Get lost! You're slowing ME down now!" Such crude communication seemed to work well enough, the big shell of rocks dispersing, loosening the scrolls wrapped around Mao's limbs. Within moments, Mao's sharp extra limbs diced the scrolls to fight them back, and his actual limbs being free allowed him to maneuver away from the spear as Ara Mitama gave out on it's defensive capabilities, twisting his body to avoid the spear's thrust, the Yoki instead trying to grab with his second hand but was met with a revved drill that dug in, bringing immense pain to the creature before him as it recoiled with a large hole left burrowed into it's palm.

To Mao's surprise, the Yoki seemed to bring forth some sort of circle around him. Unknown to Mao, this was a circular pool of the Yokai Realm that allowed for the creature to regenerate it's stamina and stood as a domain where it’d have the upper advantage in combat. The overlord didn't want to step within the borders of it's circle, instead charging a spell in his fist in preparation to try and knock it outside the borders of it's newly displayed ability. As his fist went forward, a need for a ranged attack was answered: Rather than his usual explosion, a small beam fired forward, light piercing the borders of the Yoki's alternative realm and going straight through its chest. As stunned by this as the red creature before him, Mao momentarily froze but realized what the attack was. Smirking at the recovery of his signature Shine Beam, he began to make guiding gestures with his hand: The bright beam shifting directions in the air, skimming over paintings on the walls barely avoiding causing damage to them as the beam returned through the Yoki's back, before making a few lines across his left with the trail of the beam as it began to fade. The scrolls of the Fuguruma shifted between this small wall to progress forward, and the Yoki was trapped, finding it's wounds quickly getting worse as it tried to move away and the penetrated beam cut into it further.

The paintings on display became damaged as the beam began to bloat, expanding in size. This cut open larger holes as the Yoki struggled in place, and burned through the scrolls that were only narrowly slipping through his beams before. Mao took advantage of the Fuguruma being momentarily unable to bother him by making a demand of the monster within. "Get out here! Pull it from it's circle, we’re not fighting on it’s terms!" Once again it sprung to life, conjured on Mao's position.

"I'M NOT GOING IN THERE." It said in defiance, realizing the potential danger.

"Like hell you aren't! We kill it, or it kills us!" Mao responded with anger clear in his tone, but it just embedded its claws, seemingly to tell Mao he could handle it himself. Against his better judgement, he simply rushed forward: To the pain of his rockier self, however, he was also pulled along for the ride even if he declined due to their tether. In continued defiance he dispelled himself, leaving Mao on his own entering the pool of Yokai Realm, the area surrounding him and the Yoki dark and devoid of color as dark ripples flowed along the circular point on the ground. To Mao's surprise, this ability wasn't at all a hindrance: Rather, he was building stamina and regaining strength within it due to his own demon origins.

The Yoki wasn't expecting of such an outcome, but was also too enraged to truly care. Rather it came forward in a strong shoulder-charge, Mao's thin frame slipping past it as a reaction. As it tried to come to a halt, it felt a grip on it's horn: Mao had snatched onto it from behind, tugging and nearly causing the Yoki to struggle to turn. "Let's dissect your worthless body and see what I can find!' From there, he let his mechanical limbs do the talking: All four skewering and digging into the Yoki, tearing at it's torso and jamming drill tips and blades into its wounds, carving it open and obliterating it's insides in a brutal display that turned the Yoki’s innards into outtards before it all blew away into ashes, and the pool of Yokai Realm expired.

The Fuguruma, enraged at the damages caused by Mao's Shine Beam, had prepared and now sent a sprawling fireball in his direction. With a turn, Mao blocked the heat with the body of his rocky companion, but it seeped through the exposed portions of the rock armor and burned him nonetheless despite lowering the direct damage. "YOU’RE DOING BETTER THAN I EXPECTED." his armored-fiend remarked, causing Mao to wave a hand to brush off such a compliment. "We're going to get wrapped again if you don't piss off!" Mao growled, his second self dispersing at his command just in time for his mechanical limbs to spring out and fend off the scrolls again. Though, this time, Mao pressed forward. Twists and turns marked his progress towards the carted beast, the green demon seemingly having an infinite amount of scroll length in that small transport she had. It didn't stop Mao from shredding it during his approach while dodging conjured flames, though as he got closer he wasn't sure of his target for a moment. Unsure if he could even physically damage the spirit, he aimed for the cart instead: Fist charging for another blast as his limbs moved optimally to keep the restraining-scrolls off his person.

Rather than jump high, Mao went low. He lowered himself into a slide across the flooring, underneath the cart that held the demon. This caused a need to retract his mechanical limbs, causing scrolls to quickly fill the area underneath to try and pull him out, though Mao only needed those few crucial moments beneath the cart to cause a point-blank explosion that caused it to be reduced to a rain of splinters, boards, and paper. A shrill scream being all the demon could release before it disappeared, the scrolls that had been wrapping Mao beneath the cart now turning to nothing but ash that he could easily pull himself out of. Though growing more tired with the use of that conjured monster and decreasing magical reserves, Mao still pulled himself to his feet, breathing heavily from the experience as he brushed ash off his clothing.

“Boom goes the dynamite.” Jesse said from across the empty hall, voice echoing. She was lining up a shot when Mao took care of the entire thing himself. Approaching, she kicked her shoe at the dust of the demon. “Nice work. I wish Research was here so they could get a sample of this stuff. I mean, I don’t feel like I’m made of magic dust, but logic dictates that I am. At least in this world. Back where I’m from, I was made of meat. So I’m pretty curious about all this.” She stuffed her hands in her jacket pocket.

"Seems to simulate our real bodies just fine." Mao noted, being able to relate to the concept of being a chunk of meat that moved around. Though, Mao in particular didn't have that much meat on his bones either way, so it was up in the air.

“You good to keep going?” Jesse asked. As if to offend him, her clothing didn’t even seem scuffed, let alone her being short of breath. Any stamina she might have expended was brought back to her when she killed her enemies and replenished her own Health.

Absolutely offended she even asked, Mao nodded. "Of course! Fodder isn't going to stop me." A defense without much reason to raise one, as he rubbed some of the ashes between his fingers. Being a little singed was a common situation he could brush off like these ashes, though the drain from the creature he was hosting inside himself was notable. It far from meant he'd back down, however. It wouldn't be difficult to imagine he'd simply charge ahead even if he was too tired.

“Forgive my insolence.” Jesse said. She produced her Service Weapon. “Then let’s get to work.”

Jesse and Mao proceeded deeper within the Museum. Security guards, alerted to their presence and hiding in wait, attempted several ambushes. But the bulk of the remaining forces had been destroyed by the first large battle, and the first time the Phantom Thieves blew through here. Jesse also regaled an intrigued Mao of the tale of the battle with the invincible eldritch monster that got sucked through a magic painting.

About halfway through the borderline casual battles, Jesse told Mao to hold up a second. She extended the Service Weapon out in front of her, and let go. Instead of clattering to the ground, it floated in mid-air. She rotated it, and the pieces that made up the gun shifted. After a moment it zipped back into her hand, and several black rectangles detached from the gun and began to float around the barrel. Eager to test it out, she pointed at a wall and held down the trigger. The pieces span, and a torrent of machine gun fire ripped a line through the walls of the Museum. Spin was unlocked, finally. Jesse twirled the Service Weapon around her finger and blew on the barrel as if to put out the smoke.

“Nice, huh? Been looking forward to getting this one back.”

"So that's what you meant by upgrading." Mao was, to say the least, curious about the technology involved. Though considering that it was a gun situation, something he barely used in his own experience, he could leave it well enough alone for the moment. Clearly whatever materials she was searching for were provided by these mooks, though Mao himself didn't recall even seeing anything. Unless the damned thing was ash-powered, he was pretty clueless on what she was using. Not that it truly mattered, it just meant Jesse had more firepower, which he wasn't going to exactly be upset with.

Waving forward, Mao marched on. Although he argued, insulted, and became very petty with his newfound conjured rock monster, the creature which decided to identify itself by an internally familiar name of 'Aurox' wasn't as bad of an addition to him as he initially thought. Mao came into discovery that as he weakened from Aurox's use, he became hungry and a bit more moody. It also let him learn that they could drain energy sources, as Aurox was less than hesitant about reaching for any electrical source he could find to absorb power for their own use. All the while, it also provided an excellent chance for Jesse to unload her latest upgrade to her Service Weapon and wreck havoc onto panicking demons, mowed down by shatter blasts and machine gun fire all the same, with the occasional rip, tear, and dissect from the accompanying duo. It didn't take long for the fodder to realize who was mowing down who, their forces being reduced further to a point where if they pushed much farther, it was possible the big guns would have to come into play sooner rather than later.

Soon the pair passed through a few rooms that Jesse recognized as familiar. Then they entered a room of infinite size, like a pocket dimension. Paintings floated freely through open space, and illogical stone structures that marked their path forward looped in and around on themselves.

“End of the line.” Jesse said. “This is as far as we should go. We’ve cleared the way for our next visit, though. Madarame is…” She pointed up to the top of a very large, spiral-like art sculpture. “Up there. Last time we got up there by me attaching balloons and rockets to the cat thief that can turn into a van.”

"I AM IMMENSELY ANGERED I COULD NOT WITNESS A 'CAT-VAN' BE ROCKETED AT THE OWNER OF THIS HEADACHE-INDUCING DOMAIN." Aurox commented, for once with not much for snark, but instead genuine desire to see a rocket-propelled vehicle blow someone up. Or maybe he just wanted to see a cat explode? One could easily assume both.

"... Noted." Mao responded, the mental image seeming quite entertaining. "Maybe if we tag along next time we'll see it. But for now, we might as well get out of here." Not that it was hard to find the exit. Just follow the ashes and spirits on the ground, and they'd end up where they started eventually. Mao's eyes scanned the strange domain before them, but disregarded it figuring this 'Madarame' had to be a pushover to have minions that got snuffed out like they did. Fanciness didn't hide weakness well, though given Mao's own ego it was entirely possible he was highly underestimating such an opponent.

“Maybe you will. Either way, thanks for your help, Mao. And also you… arms guy.” Jesse said, turning and beginning to lead the trio out of the Museum. The halls were quiet now, with few scattered spirits and ruined walls. Jesse looked fondly on a huge chunk of missing concrete where her Shatter had blown through an enemy and clear out the other side.

“Nothing like a good battle aftermath to remind you of where you’ve been, huh?” Jesse commented.

"I'm sure there's a cleanup crew that'll sweep them off the floor." Mao cackled devilishly, as if in mockery of the Imps in particular, and the idea of the survivors having to try and dispose of the remains of their former comrades. Jesse smirked, nodding.

Soon they were back in the public section of the museum, and Jesse followed the same path she took to get out, once again phasing through the solid fence surrounding the entire building.

Rolling her shoulder, she turned and reflected on their handy work. “That was fun, huh?”

"Always good to knock a few heads." Mao replied in agreement, lightly scratching at his back. "Guess it's better that I came anyway. Could've found that rock-thing at a worse time." Although the idea of having a secondary and somewhat stand-offish person on his, well, person, was still a little odd. Though Aurox had proven his use, even if he was an immense jackass.

“Yeah…” Jesse trailed off, furrowing her brow. “So, that guy is just stuck to you now? Is he listening all the time?”

Mao crossed his arms, seeming to not like the answer he had to provide. "When I absorbed that Spirit back at Rocket Inc, this came as part of the package." Such was the life of a scientist. Experiments could have quite the results, sometimes. "Bailed on me once, inside. And just him lingering about feels like he's draining me dry." A tool that had uses, but clearly drawbacks as well. Mao would need more time to sit and think on this, before he could truly decide. Not like it was fixable, either way.

“Mm. Right. Well, I hope for your sake you still get some privacy. Hey shit, speaking of spirits, I forgot about this guy.” Concentrating, she brought forth the rotund form of Uncle Sven the alchemist. Hands at his sides, he stood there.

“...Hi, Sven.” Jesse waved awkwardly.

Sven squinted, and his allotted time ran out. He vanished. Jesse cleared her throat. “I wonder if he’d be up for an interview later.”

"Hope a written interview will suffice..." Mao noted from Sven's silence.

“I hope he wasn’t pissed about me totally forgetting about him.” Jesse pulled on the collar of her shirt. “...Welp. See you tomorrow morning, Mao.” She extended the knuckles of her clenched fist towards Mao for a fist bump. Which he returned after a moment, an amused smirk on his face.

To which his stomach promptly growled. "Guess I'll be getting another use out of this badge after all," Mao noted, hand lowering to his side. He offered a nod Jesse's way, noting she wasn't half-bad for a human. Plenty of them could learn from how she lived. "'Suppose I'll see you at the train station. Or the public Resistance denouncement, if things go south." He still didn't trust that whole ordeal, but at least he'd feel a bit more prepared for a fight now.

Turning on his heels, Mao marched off. To find food accessible at this time of night, for one. And then to find a place to pass out until morning.

Jesse watched him go, wondering if it would be awkward if she went the same way he was going after they basically said their goodbyes. Even though the Director was planning on going that way, she waited for a few moments and walked briefly in a different direction. Then, when he was out of sight, she went the same way he did to find a place to stay.

"Well well, some familiar faces."

Primrose arrived soon after the large group that had attended the press conference. She'd visited the event herself, a little fashionably late after eating a nice breakfast at the inn she'd chosen to stay. Unsurprisingly, a city as large as Al Mamoon had multiple options for lodging. After returning from the spa in the sky, Primrose, Midna, Sectonia and Yoshitsune had all one their separate ways - and as far as she knew, not a one of them ended up staying the night in the same place. Primrose had used the night for ruminating more on the conversations from the spa, and then walking about the city to clear her head before finally choosing an inn and tucking in for a long night's rest (which happened to be interrupted briefly by some fly-by).

Now, the day after, Primrose was refreshed and ready to roll. That spa had really done wonders. Her skin was positively glowing, her hair soft and clean, and the staff of angelic toads had even dry cleaned her dancer's garb - a fact very apparent as she chose to show it off this morning, rather than cover it in the cloak she had been wearing. Once they disembarked the train and made their way up the mountain she would re-don it, but for now she was comfortable, even a touch more friendly than she had been the day prior. As she approached the gathering of heroes, a hand on one hip and a small smile on her face, Primrose looked a little angelic herself.

Primrose greeted everyone with a brief wave of her hand, though a couple of those gathered were offered a wider smile than others. She was pleasantly surprised to see the group of allies that had been flung from the train they'd taken into the city. Things were going quite well for the Seekers all things considered. "It's good to see you all safe," she told them.

Speaking of trains, their ride out of town was impossible to miss. It was just as large and imposing as it had been yesterday, but now it was polished and apparently operational as well. It was a completely different beast than the cutesy, food-themed train they'd ridden on before, but she assumed it was more of less the same: a machine vehicle that moved on a rail. Only this one had weapons on it too. It was hard to imagine anything or anyone tangling with the hulking metal train, so after a ride in it all that would stand between them and the region's Guardian was... well, a literal mountain, but hopefully they could handle that. As she'd attested last night, the dancer was ready for a change of pace even if it was from sprawling desert to frigid mountain.

---

Having woken up to witness the end to the Resistance, Mao was pleased enough to not find his sleeping space torn to pieces by Aurox, and instead generally in one piece. When it came to the Resistance proper, he felt good about the result. In the end, what he wanted accomplished came to pass, and he wasn't going to pursue anyone afterwards. They could live their lives, he'd instead focus on something higher. Literally, as he sat upon a rooftop and stared at his latest target on the horizon. He'd spent most of his night after splitting from Jesse actually putting everything he'd learned together, trying to make sense of it all. But in the end, it mostly just seemed like madness that he'd have to endure to get his home back. Not that it was too much of a problem, things were getting pretty cozy back home with his reign anyways; This was just another ordeal to keep him sharp.

Having lounged around long enough, Mao made a quick descent before making his way towards the station. Primrose's warming piece of regal headwear was currently set in with his few belongings, the heat being too much for the moment to wear it around in the middle of the day. Not having much to trade or barter, he'd have to take what he could get. The warmth-giving headwear and the scarf in his possession were about all he had worth anything, along with his weapon and the small potion he'd gotten from one of the X-Nauts. Such was how things would be, though even without the gear he'd push on. Giving up wasn't in his mentality, and his ego just hoped that the others wouldn't slow him down. The display from their fights yesterday made him feel like things would be fine however, at least in that regard.

Once he'd made his way to the station, Mao found himself cautious of unfamiliar faces and yet not exactly comfortable with the familiar ones, either. Big Band was far from difficult to make out, along with Tora's unique shape and Poppi remaining close by. Midna rolled in with that Samurai, and Primrose not far behind them. A few faces from yesterday were still missing, which said enough that they weren't quite ready to embark yet. The faster the better, in his opinion, but if they had to wait he'd sit around until the time arrived. He mostly kept to himself; Lurking in the outskirts of the group and leaning up against the nearest support he could find. A little broody, perhaps, but he just wasn't terribly eager to jump in-between everyone else, as he hadn't much to say.

That didn't mean he wasn't eager to take on Galeem's champion, of course. At this point, there were two eager fighters: Mao for his personal reasons at this point, and morbid curiosity: And Aurox, who for better or worse didn't want Mao dead specifically, but didn't mind leaving other corpses. Which Mao didn't care about, as long as it wasn't in a situation that bit him in the ass. But even now, he felt uneasy about the creature of stone. It was strong, but also a bit more of a wildcard that was attached to him (seemingly) permanently. Unsure if Galeem's destruction could even part them, but it was the closest thing to a mutual goal they could relate with.

So for the moment, cooperation seemed in the odds. Unless they started bickering once they began the climb, that is.

Yoshitsune was well rested after the previous night. Climbing from his bed, he thought of the dream he'd had. It had all started with a bright, white light that-

He froze. Looking down, he saw the wheels. It wasn't a dream.

With a stretch, his mind began bringing back details of the previous day. The spa with the ladies, the fights with the resistance, his swords at the smithy…

His swords! "I can't leave those behind!" he exclaimed, moving quickly but carefully so as to not hurt anyone, rushing from the inn he'd stayed at and down the road to the smithy.

It wasn't a long trek to the smithy from the previous day. Upon arriving, he smiled at the man, getting him with a bow.

They discussed things for a bit once the samurai had his blades back, though the smithy was curious about where the extra arms came from. Yoshitsune shook his head softly, afraid to tell the man.

Not long after that, just as he was about ready to leave, the samurai was greeted by the Twilight Princess with the promise of a spar.

The fight itself was held in a safe area, a place where nobody else would get hurt. Holding his new arms behind his back, he used the sparring match as a chance to teach Midna a little of what he had learned over the years. Then Yoshitsune tested Midna's defenses using all 4 of his swords. It was strange to get used to at first but he soon showed his skill at the blade with an extra pair of arms. Ultimately, he won, though used her mistakes to teach her how to improve.

Then it was time for the train. With his father's swords hung beside the new pair, Yoshitsune joyfully raced through the city, meeting up with the others, with Midna at his side.

-------------------------

Sora ran through the streets with a frown. Despite his time in the city, he still didn't know where everything was. Everyone had said to meet at the train station. He'd ended up having to ask for directions multiple times.

When he finally arrived, he was happy to see people he knew. Gasping for breath, the keybearer nearly collapsed in front of his comrades. "This place… is a maze," he said, breathing heavily still.

Once everyone had arrived, he took one last look at Al Mamoon before boarding the train. Things were so confusing. At least he'd made some friends.

Of all the people Fox could have expected to find the night before, he hadn't counted Big Band's apparent ward or the crew they had lost in the sandstorm to be among them, having apparently been rescued, courtesy of said ward. It then fell to him to see that they were taken care of, which was the least he could do after being the quickest to press on without them before, so he spent the last hour or two of his night seeing to the recovered team’s health and accommodations by way of whomever could provide. Even less had he expected the morning demonstration/hearing to go over so smoothly, or to be held on agreeable terms. Contrarily, he anticipated previously that their team would end up having to jailbreak the Resistance and overthrow the Grimleal in response to a predicted move for execution. Judging by the “researcher’s” actions following yesterday’s raid, he still wasn’t entirely sure they could rule that out once they left--that they wouldn’t look for whatever excuse suited them--but it was a problem to be put behind them for now.

Today, they would be moving out to confront the real boss of the region, and any now ex-criminals--amnestied or not--looking for an out were welcomed to join them, as Fox took a little extra time out on his own to let them know. He would meet anyone interested with the rest of his team at the station, or he wouldn’t; that would be up to them. Either way, even if the overall endeavor and turnout was less than ideal for everyone, Yellow Team would still be leaving Al Mamoon with a net positive gain, and every ounce or ton of that they could get mattered.

Fox would arrive late for once, solely on account of his attendance at the court-held event, and still managed to beat a few to rendezvousing at the train, spending not a dime he didn’t have or minute extra on additional last-minute preparations. In his own mind he was already set, always. Still, he would rather everyone else be as well.

“They’ll catch up,” he assured in passing, responding to Band’s comments. “If anyone else wants to do the same, now would be the time,” he reminded the group as a whole. “The rest of us should settle in. I doubt our ride there will be short--or easy--and where we’re going will be even more dangerous. Use our ride time to gather yourselves on the way.” Whether that meant changing gear and equipment, developing potential strategies, or simply psyching up, Fox’s recommendation all but went without saying, and he would make good on it himself by finding his place aboard the train (likely somewhere at the helm) ahead of their departure, and then tending to more thereafter.

Jesse Faden had never had room service before. So as she stayed in her hotel and got pepperoni pizza delivered right to her room- all for free- she kind of felt like royalty. It took her a few hours to get to sleep, like it usually did. In the darkness of her hotel room, though, she always had Polaris to keep her company. Playing 'I Spy' with Polaris was always a bit one sided, but it was all right to pass the time. Better than counting sheep anyway.

After a brief breakfast and a cup of coffee, Jesse arrived at the train station at a leisurely pace. She had briefly stopped by to observe the formal end of the resistance, but that whole scene wasn't really for her. She kept her distance.

A large portion of the group was already gathered by and in the train. The Phantom Thieves, Primrose, Mao, Fox (the actual Fox), Tora, Sora, Poppi...a lot of people. Big Band and Goldlewis. It was still important to get to know them better. Rolling her right shoulder she stepped onto the platform and whistled appreciatively at the train.

"So, this is the thing all this trouble was for. Hope it was worth it." Jesse said. She boarded, finding an empty seat. There were some figures she wasn't very familiar with at all, such as Big Band.

"As for cold weather..." Jesse opened up her jacket and patted an internal pocket. Inside there was a collection of heavy weather clothing, all neatly folded up, placed within a rucksack, and shrunken down to be compact and easily transportable. "I've got that all sorted." There were even tents and blankets inside. Shrinking them all had been quite the project, but she had done it more for her own personal satisfaction of being able to say she had a tiny camping site in her pocket more than it was anything practical. One of the magic users couple probably just store it all away in a magical pocket dimension but...

Well, they didn't want to put all her eggs in one basket, right?

Still, she reached inside her jacket and pulled out a duffel bag between her fingers. "Hey, Midna. Sorry I dumped my rocket launcher on you and then forgot to do anything about it. I've gotten used to having an assistant or two to remind me of stuff like that. Anyway, look at this." She held it out. "This is actually useful, there's stuff in here incase we need to hunker down in the cold. Think it'd be a good idea to put it in your magic spot?"

With last-minute preparations underway for both the soon-to-depart heroes and the Railway Gun itself, Tora and Poppi broke free of the crowd to return. Too excited to see and feel the behemoth locomotive in action to sit around and chitchat, or even to watch the workmen loading fuel and shells, the Nopon made for the top of the machine to get a better look at the main cannon itself. A technological marvel that inspired as much awe as it did fear, the ridiculous armament boasted a barrel wide enough for Tora to park himself inside comfortably. Anti-material, anti-armor, anti-air, anti-everything, really; getting up close and personal made it all the more incredible that Al Mamoon’s regent would trust the Seekers with it. But even a flibbertigibbet like Tora knew that trust was a two-way street. Maybe Validar just knew what a hero looked like.

While Tora consorted with the Conductor and the weapons expert provided by the crown to familiarize himself with both the train and the gun’s workings, the remaining members of his merry band arrived one by one. Under normal circumstances he would have been front and center for the return of an especially radiant-looking Primrose, but this time the dancer had to settle for just the admiration of everyone else. Mao appeared, keeping mostly to himself in a taciturn, contemplative silence even when greeted by Big Band. Out of the two prospective demons that might be with him for the long haul, the detective no doubt preferred this one. Fox, meanwhile, joined the group without reservation, ready for the trip ahead. Jesse came prepared, having stocked up on various essentials that would no doubt prove invaluable once the team reached the mountain. Fresh from a mock swordfight came Midna and Yoshitsune, the samurai repossessed of his familial katanas at last, making for a total of four to split evenly among his arms. Although he outdid the Phantom Thief Fox in quantity, Yoshitsune’s fellow katana-wielder did not feel any envy; just as in the world of art, only quality concerned him. Not long after Sora appeared, having run himself ragged through the city streets in an effort to find his destination. To his credit, however, he did arrive a little bit before Raz and Sectonia. Band eyed the late arrivals, keeping to himself his curiosity about whatever might have waylaid them on the communal route between palace and train station.

A tremendous noise more like a bestial bellow than a train whistle resounded through the station, followed shortly by a pronouncedly Scottish squawk. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall aboaaaaaaaaaaaaaard!” the Conductor called, summoning each and every rider to the train. With everyone ready and waiting for just such a call, the Seekers and their help climbed aboard en masse. This particular locomotive featured extremely limited interior space on account of its primarily industrial (or perhaps more accurately, military) design, but with Hollow Heights and its fearsome upswells nowhere near the planned route, there wasn’t much to fear but the heat of the sun. The plentiful sturdy railings made falling off just about idiot-proof, too. All in all, it promised to be a secure, if not too comfortable, ride.

While everyone got on, yet another familiar silhouette passed through the train station’s doorway, albeit not exactly a welcome one. Wearing a crisp new set of attire that suited her new aesthetic and wielding a enormous metal greatbow, Ciella strutted her way toward the train. Big Band, who’d hung back to run a more up-to-date headcount, watched as she approached with raised eyebrows. Though all the badmouthing he’d heard about her painted her an unreliable ally at best and thinly-veiled enemy at worst, the detective couldn’t bring himself to dislike what he was seeing. “Good mornin’, heartache,” he breathed, before clearing his throat. “Hello, dolly. Fixin’ to join us on our maiden voyage, or just here to get your kicks on?”

Ciella glanced at him coolly. “Validar asked me to accompany you all,” she replied, her voice loud enough to be heard from the train. “As a demonstration of his goodwill and commitment to helping you achieve your...noble goal. He says he regrets that he could not spare more of us.”

Why am I not surprised, Band thought, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, I’m sure we’ll take anyone we can get, so long as ya don’t pull any more o’ them friendly fire stunts.”

Clearly suppressing impulses of her own, the rabbit-eared archer gave a thin smile. “Rest assured that I do not intend to shame myself further.”

“Alrighty then, let’s boogie.” With the train already beginning to leave of the station, Band jumped before deploying his thrusters to rocket over. Ciella followed with a jump, landing a moment before he did as the Railway Gun pulled away from the platform. Together they headed higher up on the machine to get a better view of things. “We got desert heat an’ mountain cold ahead of us. You gonna be good in all that finery there, sophisticated lady?” Band asked idly as they climbed.

“I’m cold-resistant and can create water if it gets too hot,” Ciella replied. After another moment she and Band joined Tora and Poppi up by the main cannon, where they could watch the train station recede behind them as the Railway Gun brought them out of the shade and into the morning sun. Though Tora’s interest in technology left him more exhilarated than most, this rather unique train ride was a novel experience for pretty much everyone save the Conductor. The shake, rattle and roll of the colossal locomotive, together with the low roar of its mammoth engines, combined to leave quite the impression. Every vibration reached all the way into Tora’s bones, filling him with the same fiery vigor that burned within the train’s steely bowels. The tracks banked left, making a wide arc until they straightened out directly toward the split mountain that waited, ever patient, at the end of the desert.

A few minutes after getting underway, with the high walls, milk-jug towers, and cerulean domes of stately Al Mamoon getting father and farther away, most people were already getting settled in for the long train ride. Even the last third of the Sandswept Sky constituted quite the journey, and as cool as the Railway Gun was, Tora didn’t plan to spend the journey gushing over its every detail when he could be doing much more productive things with his time. Instead, with Poppi accompanying him, he trawled the train in search of allies who might consent to an odd request. “Hihi! Tora wonder if friend help out with something, meh. See, Tora very tough and great tank, but still not have much experience,” he explained. “It seem like every fight that enemy use attacks that Tora never see before in life, or know how defend against. Am sick of getting taken by surprise! So am hoping that everyone try hitting Tora with everything friends got! Maybe even give advice while doing it, meh. That make me better at dealing with all sorts different attacks!”

Of course, Poppi chimed in with a word of caution. “Just make sure to give Masterpon moment to heal between each go. Masterpon heal quickly outside of battle, but sometimes get impatient and charge right in again.”

“If friends even strong enough to actually hurt Tora, that is. Meheheh.” Tora put on a smug expression, adding an underlying challenge to the open invitation.

With Tora’s offer made, anyone the large group without other plans for the trip could kill some time using the Nopon as a punching bag. Given how much time the team had on their hands Tora felt pretty confident he could get through everyone who volunteered to help him out, and though he didn’t relish the idea of getting beaten up, the prospect of mitigating much worse damage in the future made this a long-term investment. Plus, it might be fun, too. Drill Shield equipped and Poppi on hand to help, Tora parked himself atop the cannon’s counterweight, ready to take all comers.

Luckily, Raz could travel light. It wasn't like there was anything from his crummy room he wanted to take with him. Besides, all he needed was what was on his back and in his head. Though he did make sure to stop by a butcher's and pack a few spare strips of bacon for the road. He still smelled a bit like cured meat and spices when he rejoined the group at the train's platform.

"Sorry for the wait," Raz said to, well, just about anybody who was around, since the structure of this group was still confusing for him. "I had to stick around for the Conference, good will and everything before I handed in my 'resignation'. I said that in a way that made it seem like I did something to him, but I just sorta told him I was leaving." With himself explained, Raz looked up at the huge weapon of a train parked in front of them. "Wow, that's a big gun. Uh, train? Gun train?... Grain?"

As everyone literally climbed aboard, Raz hoped the ride to their destination wouldn't be as dangerous of a fall as the mountain they needed to climb. Raz would be able to stay on the train no problem, but, maybe he'll stick to the back of it, just to be safe. And to catch anyone else who might fall off. Sure, something like that.

Once the Railway Gun was in motion, Raz's worries slid away, mostly due to new worries that sprouted up as the journey got underway. Having been secluded to Al Mamoon for so long, he'd grown accustomed to the heat, but not the sun. The big, bright star beat down on him, making the young Psychic sweat under his helmet. "Guhh, I knew wearing a sweater everywhere would be a bad idea eventually." While the train didn't seem to have much in the way of an inside, Raz decided that being in a cramped room was better than sticking out in the heat.

On his way to coolness, though, Raz ran into the big bouncy Tora and his robot companion Poppi. The offer to give Tora 'everything he got' caught his attention enough to ignore the hot, heavy sunlight still falling on him. "I have been falling behind in my training," Raz admitted, "and I'm sure that getting to use my powers could help me gain a few back, too. I'm in!"

---

”Eh, I entirely forgot about it as well” Midna replied when Jesse apologies about ditching the rocket launcher on her, before taking a look at all the miniaturized cold weather gear she’d been given with a squint ”huh. Cute. but you don't have to shrink it all for me to carry. I’m just shoving it into another dimension and there’s not really a space limit, trust me. I once shoved an entire canyon spanning bridge in there, a little camp site is nothing.”

She'd take them either way.

---

It was Midna’s first real time seeing the train they’d been fighting for. Perhaps calling it a train was a touch generous. The princess’ experience with trains and guns might be rather limited, but as far as she saw it, this hunk of metal was considerably more gun than it was transport and resulted in the majority of the group having to sit about outside rather than in anywhere, which made for an unpleasant riding experience all things told, especially to the sun adverse twilight princess.

Adding to the unpleasantness was the very last minute arrival of Ciella ”of all fucking people.”

Suffice to say the princess was incredibly unhappy with this, but seeing as they were off moments after she arrived, there wasn't much time to complain or argue, unless they wanted to try and ditch her off of the side of the train. Something that Midna was rather tempted to do all things told, and only resisted for two reasons:

One, it would look incredibly bad to kick the vizier’s representative off of their heavily armed train just as they were pulling out and into town pummeling range. Two, as last night had reminded her, it was maybe not the best idea to have people who they didn't trust running around aware of what was going on. Who knew what Crow was getting up to right now, or what Ciella, or anyone else should she start her own liberation cascade (as the avian themed villain was no doubt doing with his ship’s crew) would do, left behind and to their own devices. Not that they hadn't done exactly that with some of the resistance of course, but then Midna was 100% being biased here against people she had bad blood with.

Unable to do much of anything about the bunny lunatic, the princess was left to sulk, tucked into the shadiest corner she could find, sitting on her cooling arctic shield and fanning herself with her tail, up until a certain hamstery fellow stopped by and asked to be beat up.

”As hard as I can? Are you sure about that?” she asked, stepping up from her cool spot, squinting as the sun immediately struck her eyes, and then stretching before saying ”Well if you are, I could use some stress relief”

Stepping across the train opposite Tora, she’d roll her shoulder and then unleash a massive shadow hand smash at the bulky boy. The exertion was fun and really stretching her imagination to pretend Tora was Cellia gave her a touch of catharsis but ”You know what. We can do better than that” she told him as he healed himself ”so how about we find Yoshitsune and we see just how hard a punch I can throw with this little thing lending a hand.” she held up the cute heart decorated friendship bracelet and then looked a little embarrassed about showing off the distinctly not her style bangle before changing the subject.

”But before we go at it, could you do me a favor” She asked before tossing him the only mask she had kept for herself out of the the demon’s in the church. ”and modify this so it can fit under my helmet, if you can? Should help me with sand and snow storms, not to mention snow glare”

Whether that happened now or later, once Tora was ready to go again, Midna led the way to the four-swords-man, led by the slightly stronger light on her friendship bracelet. Rather than just walking however, Midna put some of her increased athletic ability to dragon dance her way there, rapidly perfecting the art of moving with style on the shaking train such that by the time she had arrived by the eponymous swordsman and informed him ”Hi. Watch this! I am going to punch Tora into the sun!” she was glowing with as much dragon energy as she could handle, and was ready to unleash it, though not before asking ”if you are still sure about this, that is?”

If he was, then, well, Midna would deliver her 410~/440~% (it depended on how you combined the percentages) punch as an uppercut on Tora. If not, or once he’d recovered, Midna would offer to do some less dangerous but more unorthodox/straightforward attacks, such as sandblasting the big boy, hammering him with a constant beam of lighting from her sword, sonically striking him via her Vibrava’s buzzing wings or hitting him with dragon claws and (again, vibrava sourced) dragon fire. If Yoshitsune was interested in also toughening up Tora, she, he and one of her wolfos could even give him a bit of practice at dealing with being attacked from multiple angles, the trio acting like a pack of wolves, circling and striking at openings if and when he presented them. She, of course, was also on hand to help him with whatever ideas he might have, if any could use her assistance.

”Phew. Well that was a work out, though I have to admit, I started feeling kinda bad hitting you over and over by the end, even though you asked for it” she said once it was all over and she was out of tricks, taking a drought from a twilight realm retrieved water bottle before passing it around to the others.

Still, it passed the time and Midna did get some expensive low risk practice with her menagerie of new powers. Especially the dragony ones, which she was getting a feeling that she could do more with with a bit more practice.

With @Lugubrius

---

---

Linkle didn’t understand that bit about names having power. That wasn’t a sort of magic she had ever heard of, but then again she wasn’t the witch here. So she nodded her ascent to keeping both the witch's name and home secret. That was one witch stereotype the woman lived up to: she was reclusive.

She was a bit confused when the Witch came over with their tea and Albedo didn't take it, his eyes distant. She was about to stick her foot out and give him a quick prod when their host broke his concentration for them. She gently rebuked him for being rude, but when he looked to Linkle she piped up. “Yeah. Albedo is a scholar. He thinks a lot.” She wondered, briefly, what it was he might have been thinking about. Maybe the name thing.

Regardless, when the woman turned her attention to Linkle and asked if there was anything she could help them with, Linkle was all ready to answer. “We came here from the monastery at the top of the cliffs hoping to get help from the Goddess, Freya. And help Freya. Help each other, I guess. Mr. Tuley told us that if anyone knew her, you would.”

Something in the witch’s manner changed instantly, involuntarily. Her posture stiffened, her expression grew guarded, and the muscles allowed to relax in the familiar and secure comfort of home tightened. Though she did her best to hide it, her guests were either observant or empathic enough to notice that even the mention of the name alerted her, maybe even alarming her. When she spoke, her tone was intentionally even, her politeness came as if forcefully extracted, and her encouraging smile, deprived of its warmth, had grown thin. “Where did you hear that name, my child?”

“Her mother.” Linkle said quickly. Even her, oblivious as she was to the tension between the witch and her companion, could tell this was a sensitive subject. “Her step-mother, anyway. Skadi. She lives right up at the monastery.” Was this woman also protecting the goddess, keeping her hidden with the same sort of spells she used to conceal herself? “Please, I don’t mean any harm. I’m sure Skadi would have destroyed me if she thought I did.”

At the mention of another name the witch’s recoiled slightly, her defensiveness turned to thinly-veiled confusion. “...Skadi?” she whispered. “But she…” With a shake of her head she cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “Excuse me. I know of this monastery, but I had no idea that Skadi dwelled within. It would seem I must pay the place a visit some time. But if you were acquainted with and on terms with her...well, I must confess that makes me all the more interested to hear what business you might have with Freya.”

“If you do, it might not be the Skadi you’re familiar with. She…” Linkle started regretfully, but then she scrunched up her face trying to figure out how to put it. She guessed the woman needed context. “I think you know that Freya is being hunted by someone. He came there looking for her, and when Skadi refused to tell him where she was he beat her until she went...strange. In the head, I mean. Not like any god I had ever imagined. It was like she was a frightened little kid.”

“When I first got here, he tried to do the same to me. Beat information about my friends out of my head, but he fell into a chasm and I managed to trap him in there with my ice magic so he couldn't get out so easily. I didn’t know anything about him, other than he couldn’t be hurt and that as soon as my friends got here he was going to try and kill them. But that’s when I met Albedo.” She looked over at him, smiling. “He’d made Albedo run some tests on him, and he found out that the guy’s powers were divine. That’s why we went to the monastery, that’s how we met Skadi, but Skadi couldn't even tell us his name. When I promised I’d protect Freya from him, though, she told us the Goddess dwelt down here in the glade. We think that if anyone knows anything about this man, it would be the goddess he’s hunting.”

During Linkle’s whole story the witch of the woods kept quietly attentive, and with a much tighter grasp over her composure no cracks now appeared in her guard through which her true feelings might be glimpsed. Of course, to Albedo that seemed to indicate that she harbored an intense interest for the subject on hand, one that outstripped even the interest she’d taken in the blond teenagers originally. He watched in silence until his new friend finished recounting the last day’s events. For brief moment he spotted the witch’s eyes flicker his way when Linkle brought up his examinations, but even then she betrayed no emotion.

It took a few moments for the witch to put her thoughts together, but when the time came to speak her mind, her face no longer held any warmth. Instead her eyes were icy and imperious, driving back the heat of the fire and provoking an involuntary shiver from Albedo. “I am sorry that this man brought you harm, and I truly regret what happened with Skadi. But Freya does not need your protection, and I can tell you nothing about that man other than this: it would be wise of you to forget about him. Whatever your reasons, I must demand that you leave him alone. Do not speak with him, do not seek him out, do not fight him, and more than anything, cease this...investigation into his ‘powers’, as you put it.” Her frigid gaze turned upon Albedo. “You, homunculus, must be perceptive indeed to have learned so much. But know that not all secrets are meant to be uncovered. Since the dawn of time the quest for forbidden knowledge has driven men to death and madness. It is no different for the likes of you. So please, for your own safety...” She glanced back at Linkle, wearing a worried look. “Stay away.”

She knows. The alchemist had frozen with his mouth half-open and a look of something like fear on his face. He glanced at Linkle, hoping that she didn’t quite catch on to what the witch had at some point determined, but quickly turned his attention back to his host. Gone was the genial, motherly figure who’d invited some children to her house for tea, replaced by someone who insisted that the pair must abandon their path. Something about her manner made him doubt that her words came from a place of concern, at least about them. He began to wonder if this witch was hiding more than she let on.

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I made a promise to Skadi.” Linkle replied, her voice more forceful than before. She didn't know what a homu-whasit was, but she saw Albedo’s reaction to being labeled one. She could only assume she had called him something as bad a whoreson, if not worse. “Besides that, he hasn’t left us with any choice. He’s teamed up with...whatever caused this mixed up world. My friends are trying to fix things, so he’s got to fight them no matter what. He came after me, he’s not going to stop just because I managed to beat him one time. Just like he’s not ever going to stop hunting Freya.”

This is a farce. You will not convince this one with words. Reanimate her and compel what she is withholding from her skull.

Linkle shook her head. That was just what she needed, two upset voices. The witch was obviously just as intimidated by the Stranger as Skadi was. It wasn’t fair. The only reason he had even been able to beat a god in the first place was because nothing could hurt him. The only reason Freya had to be afraid was because she had done something to make him invincible in the first place. If she would just lift whatever it was she had done she and her friends wouldn't have to live in fear like this. It was so selfish, which was a sacrilegious thing to think but it was true.

The Skullgirl’s determination did not rattle the witch, but it did serve to fully dissolve the veneer of concern she’d been wearing in hopes of convincing her guests via empathy. That left the woman openly disgruntled, suppressing the tranquil fury of the mother bear who’d spotted a threat too close to her cub. “Look,” she began. “I am sorry he picked a fight with you. Truly, I am. Nobody knows how difficult he can be more than I. But it’s a big world, and if you leave the Highlands, or just lay low, the chance of him finding you again are slim to none.” With her arms crossed she sniffed in disdain, clearly unhappy. “And the odds of him finding Freya are lower still. This place is enchanted; he’s explored it several times and not once seen the goddess hiding under his own nose. As for the world…” Her sunset-splashed eyes narrowed further still. “It makes no difference to me. If you will not heed my wisdom…” The witch stood and gestured toward the door. “I must ask you to leave.”

Albedo waited a moment before he rose. With his host’s ultimatum laid out, it was the time for action, whether that meant a peaceful departure or something altogether different. Knowing what truly mattered and unwavering in that knowledge, he had no qualms about taking decisive action, but it wasn’t his call to make. Instead he waited for Linkle to make up her mind about what to do, although the alchemist felt rather assured that she wouldn’t do anything unbecoming of a hero.

Linkle stood up, looking hurt but, more than that, confused. “The only reason she has to hide like this is because he’s invincible. She’s a god, without that she wouldn't have anything to fear from him. At least tell me why she won’t just...take it away. Whatever it is that she did, she could remove it. Right?”

At the mention of what Linkle had managed to piece together the witch’s eyes went wide, but the Skullgirl’s question turned her host’s fear into anger in an instant. “NO!” she fumed, her home shaking as the wood itself seemed to twist and flex. Linkle felt herself lean away when faced by the woman's fury. “It is irrevocable. Unbreakable! There is no use in trying. None! Do you understand?” White-knuckled from gripping her chair, the witch breathed a deep breath, then continued, calmer. “I am telling you that you’re wasting your time with him. Whatever it is you’re doing, you’ll have to find another way.” With a wave of her hand she opened the door from afar. “Now, if you don’t mind..?”

“But that has to be a lie.” Linkle replied, getting up. “I know it is…”

A thousand arguments occurred in Linkle’s head, her face scrunching up as she fought with herself. They were so close. At least some of the answers were locked away in this strangely defensive woman’s head. Was she lying? Was Freya lying to her? Why would she do that? Or was this whole thing a wild goose chase after? Maybe there wasn’t a way. He really was invincible, there was no path home, and they should all just give up and find a place to live in the World of Light. Would that be so bad? What was so terrible about the World of Light anyway? Other than everyone being subject to the whims of a big floating monster in the sky? Other than the hand playing despicable games with people’s lives? Other than the fact that Hyrule as she knew it was gone?

The witch didn't understand. The witch couldn't understand. When she looked into her eyes she saw red staring back at her. Linkle could make her understand, she could dome something she had been too cowardly to do for Din a few nights ago. What would be the point? She already said she didn't care about the world at all, what would seeing it for what it really was change? This woman had invited Linkle into her home, had chased the darkness from her mind for a brief blissful moment. It was Linkle’s fault that things had turned so sour between them, could she really attack her after that? Just start a fight, out of the blue, against this woman that had done nothing to her? It was downright unheroic. Besides, what good would Linkle do anyone if the witch turned her into a bunny rabbit and left her to hop around the glade? That made it better though. It wasn’t like she would be fighting some defenceless woman. Linkle had felt the power she gave off, Linkle could very well walk out the worse from the encounter. That made it worse though, too, didn't it? The second they started it meant either winning or dying!

That was only part of the argument that went on in the girl's head. Linkle stood there in agony for a moment and an eternity, the whispers growing more and more excited as the girl struggled against herself. It was like getting front row seats to a pair of equally matched wrestlers, both jockeying for position but neither able to line up a definitive grapple on the other. They went at one another over and over again, sometimes repeating whole sequences, until one lined up the killing blow.

An image flashed in Linkles mind, a frightful image of Snowdin in ruins. The buildings collapsed or frozen over, the tree dead and lying prone in the street, and all the pretty twinkling lights replaced by flickering little motes of rainbow. In the middle of it stood the stranger, still shaking frost from his body, his anger at his entombment taken out of the cheerful little town.

Linkle looked up as the instant passed, eyes sad but resolved. “We have to fight. Afterwards, you’ll understand why.”

For a moment the witch was taken aback, a mixture of confusion and panic overtaken her, but when Albedo backed up Linkle’s declaration by summoning his sword to hand her guests’ intention became real. She stepped backward as if to flee and only managed to halt herself with a fortifying cocktail of anger and pride. “I see how wrong I was to trust again. To believe that innocence still existed, even in the hearts of children. Alas, your deception will have won you nothing. I cannot fight you, and you cannot make me talk. Ransack my home if it pleases you, but it will offer you no answers.” With a sudden vigor she shouted an unknown word, and the entire house began to shake. Vines launched from the floor and ceiling, creating a barrier between the witch and her questioners to buy herself a little time. After a quick about-face, the witch transformed into an eagle and flew for the front door.

Linkle hadn’t expected the woman to cut and run, but then again she was a coward. The witches' condemnation halted Linkle long enough to work her magic, though, even if it was purely defensive. She swallowed the shame, whipped out her crossbows, and fired a pair of bomb arrows at the vines to blast a hole in them. She spotted the eagle a moment later, and plunged her hands to the ground. Her hair flashed blue as a road of frost raced to the open doorway to create a barrier to keep the eagle from escaping.

Instead the wall of ice closed over the door just after the witch escaped through it. Already on the move, Albedo noted the narrow miss and quickly decided on a route of his own, implausible as it might be to catch a bird already on the wing. Rather than try his luck with the blockages he made for the window and threw himself through it, easily bashing apart the glassless aperture’s wooden fixture and then rolling once he touched down outside. He rose to his feet already running, but when he spotted the witch already impossibly out of reach, he slowed to a stop with a sigh. Although his face betrayed no anger, he couldn’t call himself even remotely satisfied with how things panned out. Forget Freya--this woman seemed much more dead set on protecting the Stranger. The encounter invited all sorts of questions, and after crossing his arms the Alchemist busied himself considering them.

Linkle plowed through her own ice barrier a moment later, the ice shattering as easily for her as glass, and scanned the sky to find the witch a spec on the horizon. At that point all the energy seemed to drain out of her as she leaned back against the doorway. Wrong choice again, idiot. With no way to make it right the weight of the Witch's condemnation slowly pulled her down the wall until she was sitting on the ground, boiling alive in a mix of frustration and shame.

Her collapse brooked a confused glance from Albedo, who took a few moments to puzzle out that she must be disappointed and angry with the turn of events. Although this took him by surprise, it made sense the more the thought about it. Rather than rush over to try and comfort her the alchemist allowed her a few moments to cool off, cycling in the crisp alpine air to clear her head. He kept his attention mostly on the immense, flora-covered turtle who stood over the witch’s home, entertaining himself with casual hypotheses about its anatomy and behavior. Only after some time did he head over, standing over his new friend with a mildly curious expression. “All things considered, I believe we profited considerably from that encounter,” he told her.

Linkle looked up miserably from between her fingers. Profited? He was an unfeeling homunculus. I wish he would go away. Linkle was about to dip her face back down when she realized that thought contained a word she didn't understand. She violently shook her head, then sighed. “I killed her trust, Albedo.” She said, “And I’m never going to be able to find her to show her I was only trying to help. Heroes aren't supposed to hurt people like I just did. How did anything good come out of that?”

“Well,” Albedo began. “First and foremost, we should keep in mind how remarkably lucky we’ve been. Out of everywhere in this highland, or even this world, we could have looked, we found crucial information at the very first place we visited. That sent us on a fairly straightforward path to these glades, where we were found by the person we wanted to meet. To think that our luck would hold forever seems rather optimistic to me.”

He paused before continuing, ruminating on what he’d learned. “Besides, even if this witch refused to answer us directly, there’s still a lot she told us, with or without meaning to. Consider her reactions when we confronted her with certain questions. Despite her attempts to keep a straight face, she reacted with fear, anger, and insistence. If our man’s invincibility is truly unbreakable, what does the witch have to fear? Why would she demand that we cease our investigation, and steer clear of this man? I am not convinced that it was for the sake of our wellbeing.” Albedo crossed his arms. “In fact, she seemed much more concerned about that man’s, despite owning up to the problems he’s caused. In a rather familiar way, as well, as if she’s somehow responsible. And this is in addition to him hunting Freya, who is supposedly under the witch’s protection. And yet this Freya is nowhere to be found in this secret, secluded place. Even if the witch has other hideouts, she did seem to treat the matter of Freya’s safety with some flippancy, wouldn’t you think?”

Linkle blinked a couple of times at the boy, but sat up a little straighter as he continued to talk. He had managed to get all that? Linkle had assumed all of the witches' emotions stemmed from fear. People got angry when they were scared, got weirdly insistent and irrational when they were scared, but looking back outside the heat of the moment even she had to admit the woman’s behavior had been strange. Had that all been out of concern for The Stranger of all people? That was completely at odds with her thinking. Who would ever be concerned about him? As for the last point, “Well, Freya is a god,” She said. “If a witch is able to hide from him a god shouldn't have any trouble, right?”

Continuing, Albedo presented his final points and conclusion. “Well, bearing in mind that this woman is covering for the Stranger, prioritizing his safety over Freya’s, and almost certainly withholding information from us if not outright lying to us...taken into consideration with her emotional response, as well as physiological parallels...my hypothesis is that the ‘Witch of the Woods’ is in fact Freya herself, the one responsible for the blessing that protects the Stranger from harm.” He nodded as if to assure Linkle of his findings. “The turning point came when I realized my mistake in assuming that the step-daughter of Skadi must be a little girl. While my experience with gods is highly limited, it would be rash to assume that they age and such like humans do. If my hypothesis is correct, then Freya, as part of her collusion with the enemy, is purposefully trying to manipulate us to keep us from uncovering the Stranger’s weakness--which this encounter has convinced me exists.” The alchemist watched Linkle, trying to gauge her thoughts.

“But...but…” Linkle thought about it, hard. “But that...she has a broom. Her house gets dirty. She made tea like a regular person.” Linkle, who had just recently begun to think about Gods as though they were beings you could touch and speak with, looked back into the house. It was a normal house, if you ignored the turtle. The inside wasn’t that much different than hers back home. A god couldn't live the same way as Linkle, could she? Skadi had lived in a normal room, but Skadi had been broken. Freya was, assumedly, whole.

Then she thought back to when she had first met the witch, the embrace that had flushed away the skull heart for a moment. Just like the goddess Hylia had. Albedo’s mistaken assumption had been that the god they were looking for would look like a little girl. Linkle's mistake was in thinking the god they were looking for wouldn’t look like an ordinary woman, and when she was able to discard that assumption and see all the information in a line a bunch of confusing things started making more sense.

Linkle hopped up. It was strange, but the condemnation of an ordinary woman weighed much more than the condemnation of a selfish god. “She called me a liar.” She said, shame being hastily replaced with offence. “I didn’t lie to her once. She sat there and lied to my face and then called me a liar.” She let out a frustrated little grumble. If this was all true then this woman was their enemy, and it was probably true because Albedo was the one who put it together. “We should have gone with your hunting plan in the first place. It would have saved us so much time, and it’s not like she could be any more upset at us.”

“We weren’t to know,” Albedo said, shrugging. “The history of my world is one long story about the capriciousness of gods. Their words, their deeds, their wars, and their legacies. They weren’t gods because they were pure, perfect, or even good. Only because they were powerful. It stands to reason that it could be the same in other worlds.” Looking at the matter from the perspective of Freya being an enemy, he found it easier to make sense of it all. “I think you’re right to not take her criticisms too harshly. Even if she seemed pleasant at first, it may have been just because it suited her. The kindly, nature-loving hermit...a guise for the calculating manipulator. If anything, she most likely accused you because of your earnest nature, in an effort to put you down. After all, only someone like that would be crushed by such reproach, hm?”

“Just like the Skull Heart.” Linkle said, reproachfully. Though even as she said it she didn't totally believe it. Whatever the Goddesses nature, that embrace had been real. She didn't think anyone capable of comforting another person like that could be all bad. “She’s going to be way more trouble to protect than I thought she would be.” Linkle was angry, but it had settled into the same sort of anger Albedo had seen her direct at the windmill cat gang. She turned back to glance at the open doorway. “We should search her room!” She had basically given them permission to do so anyway. “Turtle!” She called up. “We’re going to search you for clues. Grumble if anything hurts.” The tacit beast, however, kept its secrets to itself.

Sectonia was one of the last to arrive to the Grim Rail with its giant cannon, having needed to spend some extra time with the rulers of the Al Mamoon due to being the owner of the previous rebellion 2nd in command striker (And having their leader fused into herself, but she didn't know that.) as well as wanting to talk a bit more politics. "It took longer than anticipated to talk out some terms and whatnot." Sectonia said, giving her excuse for being one of the last ones to arrive. Still, at least she made it on time although soon enough she found that there was very little spots on the train to sit, even if she had arrived earlier, making the trip not very comfortable, which was echoed by a few others as well.

Cellia being on the train didn't bother Sectonia much, with Midna already talking her down for turning on their team. Sectonia merely added. "My magic doesn't hurt allies unless I choose it to do so." Soon after however, Tora suggested that they train him on his tankability, with Poppi explaining that it wouldn't bother Tora too much as long as they gave him time to erst as he healed quickly outside of combat. "Ah. if that is what you want, I shouldn't deny it. Lets be careful however."

Being careful was for the best, as Sectonia watched as Midna put all she could into large hits. This also gave Sectonia information on how everyone who participated fought, and while Midna could deliver large hits, it seemed she needed a large amount of windup, far more than Sectonia's spells. Still, Sectonia waited until Tora invited her to begin.

When it was Sectonia's turn to 'train' on Tora, Sectonia started with a blast of her dark lightning, lightning that hit everyone, but only injured Tora. With her mask item tripling how many bolts or blasts her spells did, there was lightning going everywhere. After casting her magic on Tora, she waited for him to fully heal before trying the only other spell she wanted to try on him. Swirling a hand, she fired a Void Globule at Tora, the void energy completely bypassing most of Tora's defenses. Much like her lightning, she waited until Tora was fully healed before then summoning a ring of light around herself and bumping it into Tora before dispelling it. She waited more for Tora to heal before asking him which spell he would like her to attack him with again, if any. Or if she'd prefer others train with him.

Determined to lead by example for once, Peach led the silent but determined process of well-armed children down the creepy Kabuki theater’s central aisle. It felt rather like walking down a lonesome road to a haunted manor, the looming forest of mannequins on either side. She and just about everyone else expected one of the geisha dolls to turn and lash out at them at any moment, but the kimono-clad army held formation, allowing the posse to pass unhindered. Even with the Lady appearing to honor the challenge she’d offered, the kids wanted to linger in the crowded darkness even less than they wanted to take center stage, and all too soon they reached the edge. Everyone paused, collecting themselves as best they could for what could very well be their final act. But with escape -and sweet, sweet revenge- so close at hand, nobody was going to turn back now. A few at a time they jumped, climbed, and clambered onto the stage. Then, once everyone was accounted for, they took their tentative step forward.

Nadia shivered, keeping a tight hold on her magnet half. It was cold, so cold in fact that she could see her breath when she exhaled. As much as she wanted to gouge the Lady’s eyes out for making everyone suffer, to dish out the karmic justice that the mistress of this gruesome nightmare so richly deserved, she couldn’t stop her little heart pounding. Goosebumps covered her skin and a chill ran down her spine. What she was feeling, what her every instinct told her, couldn’t be her imagination--the Lady was here. Even a cat’s keen eyes couldn’t pierce this darkness, so she couldn’t say exactly where, but Nadia could feel the baleful eyes of the silent watcher upon her, staring out in hatred from that primeval, horrible darkness. Nadia looked this way and that, teeth bared in a defiant scowl as the scoured the pitch for any trace of her foe, but she found no sign. It was only natural that she, like all the rest, hurried for the safety of the light.

For Mirage, the Maw had been far more than he ever expected when he decided to disembark. To think, not long ago at all he was just about to enjoy a nice little vacation. It felt so oddly distant, and jarring. From a little wondrous nature romp to scuttling around clinging onto life in a panic from beasts and humans alike that wanted to eliminate his now child-self. As he worried scrambled into the light, eyes scanning the darkness around them with a raised dart gun despite it's lack of ability to damage others, he questioned if he'd make a different choice if he'd known what sailing off would have entailed. One look at the group along with the fact his other arm was outstretched to his side as if it'd be any use to keep those beside him safe made it an easy no. It felt good to be part of a team again; A weird team, maybe, but he was a bit of an oddball himself sometimes. It'd been a rough time, but somehow felt worth it just because of who he got to know along the way. If they didn't escape, however, it'd all been for nothing. Especially the losses they suffered, the fate of those less fortunate still ringing in his mind as a reminder he could be next. It left him cautious, but with a chill going down his spine as he more frantically searched the dark, his eyes unable to find any figures lingering beyond the border of the spotlight.

Compared to those two, the Troop matched towards the final confrontation heavily armed, the emphasis certainly being on the heavy. Bowser, holding his steel chair sized hammerhead over his shoulder, lead the way, a little flick of fire on his breath acting like a lighter to try and hold away the darkness as they approached the spotlight. Following him to one side was Kamek, the now more muscle bound turtle looking like a shoddy murderer with his bloody book and (entirely normal sized) scissor blade combo. To the other, Rika, her two cannons held at the ready and agitatedly scanning the darkness in a vague hope that she could use their aim to ward off the lady. Bringing up the rear, and slightly worried about whether Rika’s battery powered systems would conk out at this critical hour, was Jr.

Weighted down most heavily of all, the young prince was hauling the chain wrapped winch of his sentient meat hook over his head. Said hook acted as a rear lightsource, the 6 glowing ‘eyes’ on its hook doing their best to keep watch of the rear (when Hook wasn't grumbling about this not being its intended usage), alongside the spectral Mimi perched on he trainer’s shoulder as always, and the Baby behemoth, Tyrant, trotting ever fearfully at jr’s heels. For some reason as he walked, the boy kept glancing up. Of the Chef Bros (and the two transformed children) there was no sign as they had their own task to attend to.

Geralt only took a short while to look over himself in yet another new form. This reminded him of when he took in the Enderman’s Spirit to help traverse the endless pits of the End and destroy the Ender Dragon. He didn’t feel the same crippling weaknesses that the Enderman imposed upon him either. He certainly felt more cruel, almost like the Resentments were inherently evil and that had transferred onto him. It was a feeling wholly unlike using mutagens, Geralt mused as he calmly walked forward, breath steady and eyes carefully scanning the group’s surroundings. For many of the others, this would be the first time they saw a Witcher truly in action.

Their time on Shippy hadn’t allowed him to unleash the true breadth of his skills against an opponent capable of surviving more than a single blow, and he would hardly count any of the experiences they had here as what being a Witcher was about. Yes, there was a lot of thinking, preparing for your enemy’s weaknesses as they had done, but there was a desperation in their actions that Geralt felt...disillusioned with himself for having experienced. He was a veteran monster slayer with powers and abilities that even “typical” Witchers lacked. He was not some snot-nosed child scurrying in the dark, relying on numbers and makeshift weapons to kill his targets. If he had some of his blade oils and bombs on hand, he could very well call this a proper hunt. The Nail still wasn’t ideal, but it worked well enough.

Blazermate, unlike the others who went to the room with her, doesn't look all that different compared to when she went into the storage room. The only noticeable difference on the medabot was the occasional ghostly images that faintly flowed through her blue metal. That and the fact that once she entered the room, a dim red glowing crack appeared in the room, thrumming and beating as if asking to be released.

Sakura was as silent as the others. Clutching her little mirror like it was a life raft, the little girl’s eyes drifted over the new forms and new weapons of her friends. Ever since Geralt became a million feet tall back on Shippy, the idea of being skeeved out by a spirit transformation had become a distant memory. Now they seemed useful and empowering, and Sakura was sure they’d put their new abilities to good use. All that was left was to ignore her heart hammering away in her ribcage and concentrate. Where was she? Where was the Lady?

Trudging along on the group's flank was the miniaturized monster hunter. Perspiration dotted his face, his mess of ginger hair was coated in dust, and his mouth was a tight, resolute line. The Ace Cadet was stalwart and optimistic even in the worst of times, and anyone would be hard pressed to deny that this was indeed one of the worst of times. Still, the boy was determined as he walked alongside the rest of the Seekers. His grip was tight around the magnet half he held, even now thrumming with dull power. They would do this, defeat the mistress of the Maw and escape. He only wished they could have done it before it had cost them anything.

Link conspicuously brought up the rear, white knuckling his weapon as his eyes flicked across the manikins flanking them on either side. If she expected to slide out of the darkness behind them and pick one of them off she wouldn't find such as easy a victim. Not this time. Not ever again if he had anything to say about it. He thought back to yesterday, how he had felt a small disappointment when the group had decided to avoid The Maw altogether in favor of riding the waves across the dark ocean. He had wanted to see what such a place had to offer, and now that he had he was surprised to find that his opinion had not changed. Had he known everything he did now back then he would have still chosen The Maw, but only so he could destroy it. This place needed to be brought to an end. Maybe then all of its victims would be able to rest in peace.

The Lady did not keep her challengers waiting for long. The kids trying to make out the doors leading to the helm where they remembered them being were the first to see their enemy’s marble-white mask appear, arriving with a sort of whoosh noise without sliding in from any direction. It was simply absent one moment and there the next, and as the only part of the Lady visible in the gloom, it hung there as if suspended from the ceiling by marionette strings. The next moment, however, it began to move. Gliding forward like a phantom above even the tallest Seeker’s head, the mask accelerated in its approach.

Bella, as tense as she was primed and ready, opened fire. Her leviathan tail spat its railgun shot with all the vitriol built up over a half-day of pain and seeing her cherished one suffer, but its explosive slug never found its mark. The Lady, as evidenced by her mask, did not dodge left or right, but flickered in place. When Bella’s shell detonated against the wall behind her, narrowly missing the doors that the momentary light of the blast revealed, it briefly backlit the spindly silhouette of the Lady. One questing arm outstretched, she continued her relentless advance as she fell into darkness, quickly getting too close for comfort.

Rika’s own cannon shells and Bowser’s fireballs flew out a moment later and suffered the same fate, proving rather resolutely that what had happened to Bella’s shots was no fluke or trick of the light.

Geralt added to the volley with a powerful throw of the Nail, calling it back with a whistle once it flew past her and embedded itself in the wall. Catching the weapon with barely a flick of the eyes, Geralt’s demonic eyes narrowed.

Blazermate didn’t really have much in the way of ranged attacks to try to push back the lady, nor was that red crack she had seen within the light. And considering how her scanners couldn't’ even identify a weak point, Blazermate stayed back not wanting to risk getting into melee range for good reason.

Even Mirage gave it a try, firing a few of his harmless darts towards the Lady, though yielding the expected result of being unable to even bonk the projectiles off of her face. While he figured it was worth a try, it didn't mean he was any less distraught at the failure to nail down their single target. "This is NOT fair!"

The mounting panic and desperation finally gave way to terror as the Lady, untouched by any of the Seeker’s projectiles or spells, reached the group at last. Her gaunt hand reached out into the spotlight, and with the same unseen force that crushed the dreams of the Runaway Kid, wrenched Mirage into the air. Peach, being right next to him, jumped to grab him by the legs and pull him back down, but the sum total of her meager weight and strength proved far too weak to prevent him rising to eye level with the Lady, choked by her levitating grasp. Too horrified by come up with any puns for once, Nadia hissed wildly as she hurled herself forward to scratch the Lady with her nails, but a dismissive wave of an elegant hand hurled her sideways into the darkness. Bella’s tail lashed out to chomp down on the Lady’s arm only for its gnashing teeth to close on nothing, the silk of her sleeve slipping through the Abyssal’s inferior maw like smoke, or water. Link darted forward, eyes wild, and he tried to drive his knife into one of her knees to no avail. A stream of black particles began to flow from Mirage to the Lady, causing him to vibrate so intensely that he shook Peach off, and without enough air to even cry out he could only wither away in her grasp.

The Cadet's head whipped around from where Nadia had been flung to where the Lady still stood with Mirage in her grasp. With their adversary right here hurting one friend, he had to trust that the other was alright. "Let him go!" Rushing towards the Lady, the Cadet attempted to take Peach's place, but Mirage was lifted higher than they could reach. Just like the others, any attempt to touch the Lady herself was for naught. Little fists slipped right through the dark fabric of her kimono.

While Bowser rushed forwards as well, attempting to bath the lady in flames but only getting a weak stream due to his young body, the other three backed up, Rika firing, Kamek holding back his all or nothing tamura shot while trying to think while jr, in vague hope that maybe the supernatural could be hurt by itself, ordered ”Mimi, hit her with your shadow!” prompting the mon to extend her dark impression on the world towards the lady to try and swipe down the intangible foe with her ghostly power.

”Can we move the light onto her?” Kamek suggested, mind racing overtime to try and figure out what they could do, and her lack of stepping into the spotlight being the only thing he/they could go on.

”We can try! Hook, can you reach the spotlight’s lamp to move it onto her? Don’t break it!” Jr commanded his burden.

“That is not an intended- yes going!”the sentient meathook replied, and then tossed itself into the air, chain unraveling behind it as it sought out the source of the light above them, ”or pull me up!” he cried out after it as the hook spent precious seconds climbing into the sky like a beanstalk rising out of a ? block. Seconds Mirage really did not have. The spotlight swiveled as desired, but its touch provoked no reaction from the Lady.

”Drat” ”Language!”

Geralt, despite his size making him seem like the best option for direct combat, hung back a moment as he noticed all of the various attacks that the others made were completely and utterly ineffectual. Kamek’s suggestion was a good idea, if the execution could be pulled off. He didn’t know quite how that hook worked, but he had another idea. “Sakura, the mirror!” He called. “If they can’t get that light to move properly, reflect it!”

Sakura hadn’t heard the witcher, as she was already too busy trying to get the light into the horrible Lady’s face. It reminded her of using her seatbelt buckle to flash a reflection into her little brother’s eyes. She watched the reflected light dance along the distant back wall as she tried to get the angle just right. "Leave him alone!" She yelled desperately. After what felt like an eternity, but was only a few moments, she focused the light on the Lady’s mask. As if to make her blink, falter, and drop Mirage.

The instant the little girl got close enough and presented the Lady with her own reflection, both mask and mirror responded. A harsh glare built up between the two, repelling one another with an almost magnetic force, until the phenomenon quickly reached breaking point and, like a rubber band stretched too far to either side, snapped. The feedback knocked Sakura off her feet and the mirror out of her hands, landing both on the floor in the middle of the spotlight, but it also blew the Lady back into the shadows with a shriek. She reeled as if struck, just barely keeping her footing, then vanished as Mirage fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Gasping sharply as she was tossed through the air, Sakura hit the floor and came to a stop, grunting. For a moment she wondered if she would be able to get up, and maybe she wouldn’t have if she hadn’t eaten. But she pulled herself into a sitting position to see that Mirage was okay, and then she frantically crawled back over to the mirror on the ground. She checked it for cracks, and then planted three quick, grateful kisses on the non-glass portion. Clambering to her feet she unconsciously moved back to the edge of the ring. ”It works!" She shouted, elated but shrill.

”Gahaha, knew it! Right in her lair too!” Bowser pumped a fist while congratulating himself for the other’s finding of the mirror.

Blazermate, while keeping up with whatever healing was needed, found that since her other abilities weren’t there, she couldn’t really help fix Mirage in any amount of time after he had most of his life force sucked out of him from the ladies grasp. But there was a cure-all that worked for situations like this, if she was still allowed to do it. Which indeed Blazermate was. Conjuring a friend heart, she threw it at the now dropped Mirage as the lady retreated upon seeing her own reflection. That little tidbit gave Blazermate an idea…

Blazermate was made of metal, metal that could shine and reflect if polished enough which could make her far better at defending her charges here, so in between healing and keeping an eye out for the lady in the dark, Blazermate began to polish herself to a nice shine. The good news was that thanks to the slight acid bath she had earlier, most of the work had already been done for her.

Gasping with life, Mirage shot up in a panic as the last thing he recalled was the air being choked out of him. Things were, to say the least, extremely overwhelming in that moment. The scene around felt even more wrong than it did before, but now for entirely different reasons. None of this rushing through his mind mattered in this exact moment, however, as the most recent memories: Of those around him, and how they'd helped him get this far through this hellish ship, took priority given he’d have no time to fret if he was dead. The first step he found was at least trying to stabilize, and figure out exactly what the situation was. Which led to him scanning the field and keeping ears open for the nearest command.

From the shadows a lightly bruised but otherwise unharmed Nadia hurried back into the spotlight. Even though she’d learned in the chaos that the Lady didn’t care about the light, instinct told her to seek shelter inside it nonetheless. If she couldn’t see her foe coming, after all, her enemy could get near enough to assassinate her without any chance of opposition. This was, after all, not over. “Look out, guys!” she warned them, jostling back into the safety of the crowd with her ears twitching. “She’s still here!”

Sure enough, the Lady was on the move. Her mask reappeared to the front-left, just out of the spotlight’s reach, but now that she knew her challengers possessed something that could hurt her, she stopped short of charging straight in. Instead she strafed sideways, gliding around the perimeter of the light in a hair-raisingly spooky fashion, her eyeless gaze always oriented toward her targets. She disappeared, then reappeared to the back-left and strafed toward the back-right, letting everyone know that she could attack from any angle.

The realization provoked a quick order from Peach. “Don’t everyone face forward! We need to watch every direction!” As everyone repositioned themselves (while avoiding stabbing themselves on the royal Koopas’ shell spikes as they formed their tight circle) the creak of their footfalls against the stage’s wooden planks became lost in the noise of shifting props. The faint outlines and suggestions of objects in the pitch revealed that the shrouded kabuki stage’s two-dimensional scenery props were floating off the ground. No doubt lifted via the same power that allowed the Lady to levitate her victims, the objects coalesced into a single large mass of thin, painted wood, out of reach and ready to be hurled straight into the children’s midst.

Though shaded in darkness, the unnatural movement and sound got the attention of the group of children already on high alert. Upon spotting the collection of props, the Ace Cadet broke away from the group only enough so that none of his companions would be caught up in the wave of water he sent crashing in the Lady's direction. He raised an arm, watching it mutate and summon the waves, casting the rushing tide at the growing lump of wood before it could gain any momentum, hoping to scatter the pieces away. His efforts to destroy the gathered debris came up short, but the force of water pitted against his adversary’s telekinesis slowed down the attack just enough for allies with a little more stopping power to take aim. Aces' attempt was followed by Rika cocking her guns and hammering the ball with shells, followed quickly by Bella’s own gunfire, while Bowser aided by rather more literally hammering it via the magic of stepping out front he protective circle and hurling his hammerhead at the mass using an olympic style hammer throw and Geralt used his newfound size to launch his Nail with terrifying power. As they were at it there came the sound of the reeling of chains as Jr used Hook to ascend, slowly, up towards the spotlight to try and shed some more light on their situation.

With the stage props reduced to splinters the Lady lost her hold on them, allowing a smoking shower of shrapnel to clatter back down onto the stage. By that time, however, the Maw’s mistress was already making her next move. While most of the children still faced in the direction of the attack, the Lady whooshed in behind the group. Her lethal grasp extended toward Sakura, her sole true opposition, but Bella’s back-facing firing stance meant she noticed the threat in the nick of time. “No!” The Abyssal dove in front of Sakura and was promptly yanked upward as if by the hangman’s noose, her hands scrabbling in futility at her throat as her tail lashed in pain. With the element of surprise spent on the wrong target, however, the Lady was vulnerable.

Sakura was quick to act. Though for a moment she feared for her own life, Bella had once again acted to protect her, and this time, Sakura was going to pay her back for it. Anger flashed in her little eyes, and she angled the mirror at the evil Lady’s face. ”Coward! Kurae!" She shouted, telling the Lady in her assumed shared tongue to “eat this.” This time she grounded herself in a fighter’s pose, leaning into the mirror’s force and grounding her weight.

As Sakura enacted her counterattack, Geralt moved into a defensive position, flourishing the Nail threateningly in the direction of the Lady, eyes boring into her and reminding her that she would remain without help.

Another screech of pain heralded the second successful attack on the Lady, and once repelled she quickly vanished into the shadows again. Sakura rushed forward and helped Bella to her feet, thanking her with a brief side hug that the Seaplane Tender happily returned. With her previous tactic rendered ineffective, the Lady no doubt planned to change strategies once more, and with her heart pounding Nadia did what she could to ready herself for anything. Once more her keen cat eyes squinted into the darkness, searching in desperation for any clue of what might be coming and where. This time, however, she spotted something. The familiar glint of metal, each glimmer small but so numerous that for a moment the little feral thought she might be looking at a starry night sky. Then a storm of nuts, bolts, screws, and nails streamed forth, striking the coalition of children like a swarm of locusts. Sakura yelped, trying to cover her face while keeping hold of the evidently crucial mirror.

As Sakura cried out Link made his way through the storm of metal to her side, covering her with what remained of his makeshift shield and his body as bits of metal plinked off his helmet. If even one screw or bolt scored a lucky hit, it was over for them.

Mirage, scrambling through the metal storm to try and join the defensive effort for the team with a raised arm that found itself getting pelted multiple times, acted as quickly as he could in aiming his dart gun downwards, firing his darts beside each other and ducking behind them as cover. The metal violently slammed against his makeshift and admittedly small wall, but thankfully flung around the sides rather than straight through. At best, it kept Link's legs from getting pelted with flying debris, but Mirage was otherwise bunkered down and quite afraid to even peek a hair over the dart wall lest he get a screw through his eye.

“Gah!” Gritting her teeth, Nadia raised her arms to protect her face from the hardware fusillade. Pings and cuts from the stuff hurt, but the real problem was the loss of visibility, making it nigh impossible to tell where the Lady might strike from next. An inordinate amount of junk seemed to be gathered around her, but at the moment Nadia had yet to put two and two together.

It was at that time that Junior, having busied himself trying to adjust the spotlight away from the protection of the group, jerked suddenly into the air. Embroiled by a sudden, inexplicable agony, he found himself staring at the barely-visible mask of the Lady as she stood upon the scaffolding from which the spotlight hung. He shook violently (while Mimi ineffectual swiped at his attacker from his shoulder and Hook dangled from the scaffolding unable to assess how it could help), a stream of vital black particles draining into the Lady’s mask, undoing the damage done by Sakura’s last reflection.

Eyes darting about as he tried to bodily shield some of the smaller children from the hail of hardware, Geralt’s demonic visage focused on the scaffolding that held the Lady, the spotlight, and Junior’s cohort. One arm came up to shield his face, while the other drew back awkwardly to aim his Nail skywards, his goal to disrupt their foe’s concentration with a throw empowered by his shiny, new, relatively long arms aimed not at her body, but at the surface keeping her up. The piercing tip of his nail failed, however, to pierce the metal supports keeping her up, and the Lady’s cruel attack continued without skipping a beat. With a quick, frustrated grunt, he whistled for the Nail to come back and caught it easily.

When the rain of metal bits started, the Cadet retreated back towards where the group was gathered under the spotlight. The small and quick iron pieces easily pierced through a second wave of water, and no amount of swatting was effective. The boy raised his arms to cover his vitals, his face and neck, as he regrouped. There seemed to be a pile of nails and shrapnel forming around him, laying at his feet or embedding themselves shallowly in his body - and other pieces simply sticking, held in place by some curious force... a force like the magnet in his other hand. In a less stressful situation he might have let out a large duh, but as it was he said nothing, just grit his teeth against the stinging and thrust the magnet high over his head. The volley of iron was dragged upward, collecting at the magnet's poles. It wasn't sustainable alone though. With his free hand the Cadet reached out to grab hold of the other half of the Ace Decoys' arm.

"Nadia! The magnets!" Nearer to her, his own half's power increased.

Feeling a little like an idiot for not realizing sooner, Nadia thrust her arm upward with her own magnet half upheld, joining the Cadet’s. With the pair being about as close as they could get at the moment, their respective halves seemed to resonate with one another and further boost their attractive power. The wild whirl of iron assailing the Seekers became a vortex, flying in to clump together around the magnets. As the air cleared, bringing relief to the children besieged by the stinging torrent of nuts and bolts, the force that kept them aloft seemed to dissipate. When Ace and Nadia drew apart, the cluster of junk dropped harmlessly between them. Nadia grinned in triumph, yet another victory under her and Ace’s collective belts, but the next thing to drop wiped out her good mood and then some. A shadow broke up the spotlight overhead, and when she looked up, she beheld to see a small, cone-headed Nome plummet from above. Dread sent a terrible chill down her spine, even though she didn’t know the details; what the hell had happened up there, while she was distracted by the Lady’s storm of metal?! Feeling the same awful chill, her red haired partner cast his eyes wildly around, looking for both the perpetrator and the identity of their victim. He held some misguided hope that the nome wasn't one of them, but noting that there was one turtle among them missing dashed that hope fairly quickly.

A howl of anguish rose up from the boy’s family as his father rushed forwards, shoving others aside in order to catch the falling child in his arms and then pulling him close crying ”Son! Jr! speak to me!”, to which the mute and cursed child could only reach out a shaking hand to brush his fathers snout as the rest of the Troop looked on in horror.

Knowing Junior personally and being uninvolved with the others’ magnetic deflection, Princess Peach received the full traumatic impact of what happened to the young Koopa, and it left her utterly stupefied. As such, when the Lady attacked again, she barely seemed to react. There came the unmistakable sound of shattered glass, or maybe smashed mirrors, before blades of glass flew from the left to skewer the children where they stood. “Left, left!” Nadia yowled, bringing around her fan to use as an emergency shield, but it didn’t take a genius to realize how bad this was. Even if a lethally sharp spike didn’t pierce her defense, not everyone could defend themselves. Bowser had his shell, but he wasn’t big enough to protect everyone. Bella had the size to bodyblock Sakura and maybe one other kid, but those lethal shards would slice right through her soft flesh. Jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut, Nadia prepared for the worst.

Heeding Nadia's words, Mirage popped out and changed the direction of his defensive wall: Spraying a trio of darts back in a wall formation, it didn't offer much but if those close to him managed to squat down behind the wall and Mirage himself in some manner it'd keep the glass at bay. Though it didn't provide a solution to the larger individuals who might stick out of the borders of the small defensive line. "C-C'mon! Duck down!" He yelped, trying to take any initiative he could to help at this stage. Link was able to tear his rage filled eyes away from the stricken prince and his grieving father long enough to obey the boy. Close behind him was the Cadet, regrettably bare in the defense department he ducked down with the other boys to weather the storm of glass.

Geralt scowled as he saw Junior’s fate, but reacted appropriately to Nadia’s call of warning: moving between the grieving Troop and the storm of glass, he turned his back and crouched so as to minimize the exposed area that wasn’t covered in shiny new armor. He knew that they had shells of their own to work with, but their current condition wasn’t one to take chances with.

Bowser clung to his cursed boy, shielding him and him alone from the rain of glass. The rest of the troop did what they could to protect themselves, and only themselves, any coordination broken by the fate of the prince. Kamek hid in his far weaker shell while Rika brought up her gauntlet covered arms and ducked down to try and shield her body, while Tyrant simply fled in a panic into the darkness. The only one of them that could be of aid was Hook, the sentient meathook’s drum diligently reeling down after its owner to dangle among the group, the steel roll offering a small potential shield to anyone with no better options.

Blazermate, being made of metal and still the largest of the group, moved to take the brunt of the glass attacks. Due to her massive twintails and metal body, she made an excellent wall from the glass for the others that weren’t covering their own defense. Bowser would be fine thanks to his shell, but the others were far, far squishier. She could also take this time to help up the injuries of those who had gotten battered in the metal storm, Blazermate only being lightly affected by that attack. Although she wasn’t sure she could do anything for Jr. after he got transformed, there had to be a way to change him back.

Considering the tactics this lady was using, Blazermate made sure to keep an eye out for her at all times, as this glass did nothing to her. Seeing as this lady liked to sneak up on the blind spots of the party and all to make her attacks.

The ever-helpful Blazermate’s selfless swoop in to save everyone from the blades of glass elicited a cheer from Nadia when she peeked out from behind her untouched fan to find the whole group safe from skewering. “Way to go, Blaze!” she called, but the Medabot said nothing. She gave no cheerful quips, nor derogatory smack-talk, nor even turned around to make sure everyone was okay. Something was wrong. “Blazermate?!” When she took a step to the side to try and get an angle on the healer’s face, she laid eyes on the mask of the Lady instead.

“Wha?!” Nadia nearly toppled over from surprise. Blazermate had been so preoccupied on the group’s blind spots and flanks that she didn’t react in time to the Maw’s mistress appearing directly ahead of her. Like with the others, the Lady had reached out her deadly hand, but with no life to drain from the Medabot, she settled for a telekinetic crush instead. The metal that so easily deflected the blades of glass was already crumpling inward. Suddenly, bodyblocking the team from the glass had turned into blocking the Lady from the team. There wasn’t a second to waste. “Sakura!” Nadia screeched, pointing her fan toward the Lady and turning it on. If the little street fighter hurried, she could be blown right into the perfect position to attack their hated foe a third time.

Sakura turned and nodded. ”Un! IKUZO!" Clutching the mirror tight and ran forward as fast as her little legs could carry her. Once in line with Nadia, she was boosted forward at high speed to rescue their rescuer, Blazermate. And avenge Junior. Sakura’s glare was white hot. She ended up sliding forward face first, turning her shoulder to take the brunt as she slid along the ground. Friction took some of the layer of skin away on her elbow. Practically at the Lady’s feet, she reflected the Lady’s cruel mask at her from below.

Another shrill cry tore through the kabuki theater, echoing off the distant walls. This one sounded even more vehement than its predecessors, as if Sakura had lain waste to a well-laid plan right on the cusp of its execution. Then the Lady fled once more, and the kids got another brief moment to prepare themselves for whatever fresh plan their enemy had in store for them next.

”Yeah! You like that?!" She shouted after the fleeing villain. Sakura pushed herself to her feet, rubbing her bleeding elbow. She patted Blazermate on her metallic side, both making sure she was alright and thanking her for blocking the glass. ”You okay?"

”A bit crushed… but I can heal that up as long as my arm part isn’t broken. Thanks.” Blazermate said, sprinkling Sakura with a bit of healing before focusing her beam on herself, parts popping with a loud metallic popping when they were healed enough, but there wasn’t much healing time so she could only pop a small bit of herself back to normal before the lady attacked again. Sakura noticed both of them feeling a little better and nodded. ”No problem.” She said, backing up towards the center of the spotlight.

Nobody, however, anticipated the form the Lady’s next attack would take.

The stage itself began to rumble and shake, its giant planks moving as if they had minds of their own and were fighting to break free. Then, in a chorus of hideous wrenching sounds, they began to tear loose. All around the floor beneath the central spotlight the planks ripped up and flew away to clatter on the stage farther away. Where the light shone down into the darkness that the stolen boards left behind, no bottom could be seen. Only rows of the narrow beams that the planks had been nailed to remained, stretching neatly over the void. As the room the kids had to work with got smaller, a plank at a time, they crammed closer together, until finally the whole crew crowded onto a single large board. Yet even that wasn’t enough for the Lady. From her unseen vantage point she pulled at the stubborn, rusty old nails holding the final plank in place, moments away from yanking their last foothold out from under them.

As the group was slowly forced together and onto a single plank, Geralt carefully watched the positioning of the beams that held the various planks in place. Having correctly assumed that she wouldn’t conveniently leave them alone once they had nowhere else to go, Geralt made sure to stand roughly in the center of their final bastion, Nail in hand and ready to be used. Using one lanky arm to wave the others away, He lifted his hand into the air and forcefully drove the nail into the plank they were standing on before calling out, “Bowser! The hammerhead!”

Bowser took one look left into the surrounding void just in time to see the hammerhead he had thrown tumbling down into it. Hammerless, the king was forced to use his head. He used his head to headbut the nail over and over, driving it in and then stumbling back, head ringing and dizzy and having to be steadied by his family.

With the team’s foothold secured, at least for a moment, everyone readied themselves as best they could for the Lady’s next trick, and she didn’t keep them waiting. One of the giant planks torn free from the floor and discarded moments ago rose up once again. With no trace of the Lady to be found in the pitch black beyond the spotlight, everyone could focus on the board as it reoriented itself in the air. After a brief moment it came to a stop perfectly on its side, like a long wall, and proceeded to float toward where the troop of children took refuge. It was a laughably simple and brutally effective move. In a matter of moments, the giant, sturdy plank, taller even on its side than most of the Seekers present, would sweep them into the abyss.

”Seriously?!" Sakura shouted.

Lacking in any other ideas, the still dangling chain of Hook wasn't going to get them all over, Kamek tossed a magical ball of dough over the heads of the children and at the incoming plank, transforming it into a very large tempura that plopped down onto the plank just inches from slamming into the foremost children.

Not having much room to work with, Mirage eyed the transformed plank in front of him, firing a dart and planting it against the wood that could lead to their demise. Initially looking useless or even more dangerous as it'd hit Mirage sooner with how it was positioned, Mirage took away more of his own floorspace by firing a dart downward directly in front of him, making a wall in the direct path of the dart he stuck to the plank to try and keep their demise at bay long enough to find a way to destroy it entirely.

Mirage’s blockade bought the dough tossing mage a moment to think and then suggest ”Your striker, the one with the same power, it tried to eat that dish before, can it do the same for this?”

Mirage looked as if a lightbulb went off in his head, with Kamek flipping the metaphorical switch. "Oh right, that thing!" He responded, turning to the tempura-plank. Unsure of how to call upon the power he received, he simply pointed with his empty hand in finger-gun fashion and tried his best. "Uh, wizard thing! Go bamfoodzle 'em! Told ya there'd be a meal eventually!" Conjuring forth the Tempura Wizard, it hovered over the darts holding their demise at bay, taking advantage of the magic transformation similar to it's own and snacking down on the former piece of large wood.

Dutifully the Tempura Wizard went in to chow down, its open mouth slavering in anticipation as it reached out its chopsticks. For a moment its chosen utensils looked completely unfit for the task, but somehow the monster managed to pinch the super-sized shrimp fry between them and lift it into its mouth. It was then that the plan hit a snag--try as the wizard might, it couldn’t gulp the whole thing down fast enough, and when its duration ended the Striker’s abrupt poof left the uneaten tempura to fall back down to the ground. Only a moment of the curse’s duration remained.

Moving by instinct, Bella lunged her tail forward. Its teeth managed to pierce the tempura, and with all her strength the Seaplane Tender hucked the foodstuff off the edge of the plank. It disappeared between the beams and turned back to normal without even a second to spare, becoming too big for the Lady’s telekinesis to bring back up without some time-consuming manipulation.

At the moment, however, the Seeker’s foe had other plans. Already a thick black power cord, taken perhaps from the lighting scaffold above, wound through the air like a snake. Under the lady’s direction it looped around the group, encircling everyone but Bella and Blazermate at about waist height, then tightened to forcibly clump them all together. Then, with the whole pack of kids in her grasp, the Lady began to drag them toward the edge.

"You've GOT to be kidding me!" Mirage irritably spat, struggling against his entrapment and being glad he hadn't ended up squashed between Bowser and Kamek. He attempted to wrap his legs around the dart on the plank to keep himself from being pulled away, but found his bottom half giving out and not being able to resist the pull presented by the Lady's latest scheme.

"She's really getting desperate now," the Cadet wheezed, glancing over his shoulder and seeing the abyss coming up quick. He tried to wriggle free, or at least get his top half loose so he could raise an arm up and attempt to grab hold of anything to stop their movement, but the children were lassoed tight together.

The cord hit a snag as it pulled though. Link had brought up the butcher's kitchen knife as soon as he had seen the cord encircling them. He planted a hand on the back of it, braced his elbows against his chest, and put every punch of strength he could into resisting the cord as it tightened around them. Then, with both hands, he started to saw at the cord.

Geralt, seeing Link’s efforts, placed his hands on Link’s shoulders (careful to avoid piercing the boy’s skin with his new claws), and aided in the sawing motion.

The quick thinking -and cutting- of the small swordsmen paid dividends, and almost as soon as it came the peril was gone. Before the cord could drag even one child into the yawning dark below the knife severed it in half, and both segments shot away into the dark under the last remnant of the Lady’s power left in them. Ace, Nadia, Mirage, Rika, and Sakura -having been toward the front- teetered close to the edge of their plank for a moment, but it was nothing a little steadying from their friends couldn’t solve. Sakura wobbled, sweating and sighing a sigh of relief as she was pulled from the brink. Rather than offering relief, however, their recovery allowed them to witness the Lady as she stood still on one of the beams. She had come close to catch whoever she could as they fell into the void and drain them for her own benefit, but instead been the one caught unawares by her plan’s bafflement. Nevertheless, with Sakura on the brink the Lady saw her opportunity, and despite the risk she took it. Her unseen grasp extended to take hold of the little girl’s mirror and pull both off the edge into the abyss.

Sakura wasn’t afraid anymore. Even her anger had transformed into something purer, more righteous. With everyone working together, it felt like they were finally winning. So when she yelped in surprise as the Lady, waiting in the dark depths like the shark from Jaws, went to drag her under, she held onto the precious mirror as tight as she could.

”It was right in your lair!” She said, echoing Bowser’s words. Not even bothering to stop herself from being pulled off the plank, having absolute faith one of her friends would stop her from falling. For the fourth time, she reflected the Lady’s masked face at herself, knuckles white.

The Lady recoiled as if dealt a heavy backhand slap, letting out a cry of pain, and maybe fear. As Blazermate, Mirage, Ace and Nadia grabbed hold of her, Sakura caught the briefest glimpse of cracks in her enemy’s mask before the Lady abruptly vanished. A shrill howl echoed through the theater a moment after, an expression of abject anger as the last of the Lady’s dignity and honor gave way to one vital objective: to win. The street fighter wasn’t the only one getting a grasp on this situation, and with every attempt so far shut down in some way or another, the Lady couldn’t hold back any longer.

Nadia swallowed as spotlight -no, the entire scaffold- began to shake overhead, the all-important beam swaying dangerously as the sound of creaking, warping metal chased away the echoes of the Lady’s scream. Then, with bloodcurdling suddenness, the bulb exploded. With only a shower of sparks to mark its passage, the beacon of safety was no more.

The darkness held dominion, black as death, and it held much worse than mere trickery and boogeymen. With no light at all, even a cat couldn’t see, leaving Nadia as blind as a bat. The only sources of light in the darkness were the gallery boxes of the Guests of Honor all the way across the theater, providing basic orientation for the children, but of her immediate surroundings Nadia could see nothing at all, not even where the plank ended and the pit began. She could hear her allies’ panicked breathing, her own especially, but that wasn’t what she wanted. “Ssh”! She urged, then with ears craned listened with every fiber of her being for the whoosh that would betray the Lady’s arrival.

Instead she heard something different: the slam of opening doors opposite the Guests of Honor, in the direction of what must be the Helm. A trace of light darted through, a gathering glow, and in its multicolored shine Nadia thought she spotted a small frame, and familiar features. A little face, cute as a button but filled now with steely determination, gazed back at her.

Then Hat Kid unleashed the neon extravagance of her Projectile Badge, cutting through the Stygian blackness of the massive room with a beam of brilliant light. Like a lightning flash it briefly illuminated every corner of the nightmare theater, including the Lady standing right in the middle of the group of kids, looming over Sakura like a scarecrow, a glass shard clutched in her hand, just a second away from quieting the girl’s precious heart for good.

Sakura didn’t have time to turn around. Of course she knew the Lady would go for the mirror first. In the split second between Hat Kid releasing her light, and seeing her friend's eyes glance above and behind her head, the little street fighter reacted as quickly as she could. Still holding the mirror in both hands, she hunched and held the mirror over the back of her shoulder. Prepared to be struck, she squeezed her eyes shut. Instead she felt and heard the feedback of the Lady facing her reflecting, and after another moment the two blasted apart. Sakura tumbled into the protective arms of her teammates, while the Lady staggered back and disappeared. Her unused glass shank stuck into the plank where Sakura stood a moment ago.

As the dark surged forth again, Hat Kid sprinted toward the group. She ran and leaped toward where she remembered the platform being, cruising in for a deft landing among friends. Then she started charging her beam again. The pink, blue, and yellow light built up in three motes that surrounded her in addition to the locus of power at her umbrella’s tip, and by not releasing the beam, the Seekers’ original child provided a new source of light with which her friends might stave off the Lady’s attacks. Nadia could only imagine that Hat Kid had tangled with the Lady already and knew how she worked. In the glow the feral could see just how smug Hatty looked, as if she knew just how much of a miracle she was.

Exhaling a shaky breath, Sakura regained her balance from the arms of her friends. Grateful for the new light, she ran a hand through her brown hair. ”Phew...that was a bit close.” She chirped.

”I really don’t like this lady. How many tricks does she have? We can’t rely on another person coming out of nowhere to save us…” Blazermate said, putting her opinion of the situation out there.

Lowering his dart gun in relief for Sakura being okay, he slowly moved towards her. Putting his back in her direction and facing off to keep an eye out once he was close, still cautious until that Lady was truly out of commission. "Tellin' me! That psycho has it out for you, kid." He noted, gaze momentarily falling onto their new smug companion, who Mirage didn't truly recall and was feeling a bit of confusion about. On top of the recent freedom from Galeem's influence, it probably wasn't much of a surprise that he was on edge and asking a question in whisper to the small Street Fighter. "Psst, speaking of kids, who's the lightshow?" He held back on the fact he was utterly impressed by Hat Kid's light display and entrance. Mental notes were indeed being made, he needed something that shot out lights, too. Talk about fancy!

”Hat Kid. That’s her name, as far as I can tell?” Sakura answered, unsure. ”They don’t talk much.” Due to Hat Kid’s mysterious nature, Sakura sometimes had a hard time picturing her as just a regular kid, and wondered if she was some kind of trickster spirit or something. ”I saw cracks in that lady’s mask. She really doesn’t like looking at herself in the mirror.”

Calming a little as he nodded along, Mirage was glad that King Bowser was right about that mirror-- Though, thoughts of complimenting the king brought Mirage's eyes his way, bringing him back to the cruel reality of the situation before them with what happened to Junior. She couldn't get away with this, and they had the tool to make sure of it. It left Mirage somewhat invigorated, but his heart was thumping in his ears. He'd almost been drained himself, and he was terrified it could happen to him again. It didn't make his resolve waver, however. "Then that's exactly what she's going to get," Mirage responded with determination. "Let's give her as many looks at herself as it takes!"

”If only I was a diva line medabot, I could just project a hologram of herself...” Blazermate mused.

”Yosh!” Sakura declared, nodding. ”She’s gone too long without a proper ass kicking, I can tell.”

Geralt had let out a short bark of laughter at the Hat Kid’s triumphant return, glad that for once it was his enemies that couldn’t catch a break. “Good to see ya, Kid!” He greeted, then angled a bit towards Mirage. “We just got him out of the spell, so he might be a bit spacier than usual for a short while.” He didn’t bother to remind her who he was, assuming she’d figure it out based on who was missing. She might’ve guessed Glenn, and he’d correct her if she did, but his sardonic sense of humor would probably give it away. The Kid was always more clever than one might expect of her stature and apparent age, and he wasn’t going to patronize her.

”There you are Kid! Where in the world have you been?” Bowser asked, a mix of concern and relief in his voice, as jr, who was rather lively for a cursed child all things told, waved at her from within the protective circle of the Troop.

"Doesn't matter, at least she's alright!" The Ace Cadet would have ruffled her hair despite being around the same age and height as Hat Kid currently, if not for her, well, hat. "Nice timing," he told her, settling on patting her shoulder. Even with the relief they all felt from Hat Kid's reappearance, they couldn't relax just yet. They had to revitalize Junior, and there was no way that persistent witch was done with them.

Ace’s intuition proved to be spot-on. Although Sakura’s latest reflection hurt the Lady more than any other thus far, the hadn’t been just been sitting on her hands the whole time the kids chattered, and now her next strategy came to fruition. Dark figures suddenly appeared in the light given off by Hat Kid. Not one, not two, but seven Ladies stared down at the kids, sliding through the open air toward them with eerie synchronicity. Nadia bristled, taken aghast by what appeared to be yet another in her enemy’s already astoundingly potent bag of tricks, but then she remembered that the Lady’s persistent use of every object close at hand need not be limited to the stage. “Mannequins!” she guessed, ears flattening as the seven reached out their arms in unison. Her first instinct was to find the one with a cracked mask, and though she quickly found her mark, a quick second guess forced her to give her foe a little credit. Every mask had been cracked, likely by the Lady herself, so as to not betray her identity.

Peach, having overcome (or at least bottled up) her trauma during the cord attack, decided to test the theory for herself. She closed her parasol and flung it like a javelin with an Olympian’s finesse, if not strength. It flew through the air and bonked against the hollow chest of one supposed Lady, then fell silently down into the void. “Only one of them is real!” she advised, hoping that someone among the group could think of a better method to tell the dummies apart than throwing away their weapons. Link couldn't think of one, as evidenced by a badminton racket clonking off another of the fakes and joining Peach’s parasol.

With the Lady and her mannequins closing in on them, the faster they found the real Lady the better, or else they would be at risk of being surrounded. If that happened it would be all the harder for anyone to escape the woman's grasp. While some chucked what they could in hopes of determining which was real, the Cadet maneuvered his way to the front of the group with his arms up, sea spray already forming around them. "You can run, but you can't tide!"

As Nadia’s jaw dropped he summoned the water again, using both hands to create a wider wave. It swirled around and surged out, washing over the line of Ladies. With his brows pinched in concentration, the Cadet willed the waves to knock the fakes away - but ultimately all they needed to do was push them back enough so that when the real one slipped through the water unphased, Sakura could focus the mirror on her.

Sure enough, the spray of water splashed against the kimono-clad torsos of the six fakes, while Bella saw it fly straight through the body of one of them as if she wasn’t even there. “That one!” she cried, maybe a bit too loud. Before either she or Sakura could close the remaining distance between them for another flash, the Lady broke formation and dodged backward into the darkness with an angry hiss. Sakura pointed the mirror after the Lady, swearing in her native tongue. Silence reigned for only a moment, though, before the clatter of wooden boards against one another filled the air. In the low but far-reaching light of Hatty’s beam charge the kids could see the outlines of giant planks rise into the air and start to spin, speeding up quickly. Then, one by one, the boards hurtled forth from a variety of angles like frisbees, flying toward center stage to slam the kids into the abyss if their wooden mass didn’t clobber them to death first.

Able to fly up to avoid the chaos, Blazermate did spot something strange the others did not--a glowing red crack on one of the boards as it span through the air.

Torn from making the mental note of banking Ace's wordplay for later use, Mirage's mind instead had to focus on the boards in the sky. "Aaaah, thinking, thinking!" He worriedly spoke, scuttering around his and Sakura's area, making a triangle-formation of upward-facing darts. Having to eyeball the size of the planks swooping upon them, he wasn't absolutely sure if the boards were too big to compromise the formation or not. But with remaining at a fairly small size, Mirage tried to maintain some confidence as his triangle was also quite small. "Alright, uh, maybe that'll work! Just keep the mirror low, and your head even lower!" He insisted as he himself lowered down, as to not have his head whacked off any boards that surfed just above the darts' height.

”Good thinking, Mirage-san!” Sakura said, crouching down and clutching the mirror tightly. But not soon after that, the darts were knocked asunder by the might of the board and the street fighter yelped, diving for the floor.

As the weight and speed of the first board broke through the makeshift barrier of darts, Bella took a more active approach. She moved forward as far as the available space would allow and chomped down on it with her leviathan tail’s vicious, crushing mouth. Then she yanked it upward in an effort to divert its path above the others, but she underestimated its force. As it sailed over the others it struck her high, and with her tail raised rather than behind her for balance, the Seaplane Tender was too top-heavy to stop herself falling over backward. “Eep!” With a cry of alarm she went off the edge, just barely managing to twist around and grab the board with both hands. But relief wouldn’t come so easily; a terrible sinking feeling told her exactly what came next, inevitable as gravity itself, and anyone who realized the same thing had only a short window to take action.

At this point three more giant planks were already lined up, ready soared in one after another. If Hat Kid stopped charging in order to dodge, as she had almost considered doing, the light would be gone, and the Lady would appear. While an overcharged laser sweep would certainly solve the weaponized floorboard problem, the window it would have afforded the Lady to get on top of them made such a move ultimately ill-advised, and was perhaps exactly what she was counting on. As if they weren’t at enough of a tactical disadvantage already. She and Sakura needed defense almost as badly as Bella needed saving. Nadia wanted nothing more than to put her agility to work saving her own skin, but the memory of Glenn falling to darkness made her pause, and the recollection of one other detail made her realize that she could do something about it.

A moment later the full weight of Bella’s bloated body and tail fell on her meager grip, instantly wrenching her loose. Her eyes went wide, glistening with tears even brighter than the glint of her black metal tail, as she began to fall. “Sakuraaaaa!” she wailed.

Still laying flat on the board, Sakura watched as Bella tried and failed to stop a flying board. ”Bella-san!” Sakura called out.

“Ace!” Nadia yowled, already kneeling over the spot where Bella had fallen with yet another crazy idea in mind. She pointed her magnet downward, aimed at the Abyssals’ metallic leviathan tail, and a stream of magnetic energy sprang to life. Like a lifeline it connected to Bella, but it only managed to slow her fall. Without more power, the Seaplane Tender would be gone in just a moment’s time.

The monster hunter all but dove in the direction Bella fell, brandishing the magnet half to join with Nadia's. Despite the power boost the Abyssal did not fly back up towards them as they might have hoped. Bella kept falling, an agonizingly slow descent toward the darkness below. The Cadet flung out his hand to summon the watery tendril that had saved Nadia back at the restaurant, but it dissipated as soon as it appeared. He cursed the unreliable power, reaching out desperately with his hand to try and take hold of her. "Grab on!" he yelled, but she was out of reach.

Simultaneously, Peach grabbed hold of both Mirage and Kamek, shaking them. “What are you waiting for, they’re gonna hit us!” she yelled.

Mirage's eyes fixated on Peach for a moment, a blink of life returning him to reality which he'd lost at the horror of Nadia and Ace having to try and save Bella's life. But it'd all be for naught, if those boards came and struck the others, too. "R-Right!" His response was quick, shrugging Peach's hand off as he turned to eye his targets.

”Oh, uh” Kamek stammered, his mind very much caught up by Bella’s fall until peach shook it out of him and he said to the equally shaken Mirage ”same plan? But it barely managed to get through half last time-” Before Bowser shoved past both of them and declared ”I’ll eat wood if i have to! Let me at it!” adding his maw to the problem solving.

"H-Hold on, King!" Mirage spoke nervously, not wanting to insult Bowser by any means, but a thought came to mind. "My wizard-guy-thing couldn't even eat the last one. But it did let Bella knock it down, remember?" That name was a reminder a lot was on the line at that moment. "We blast two of them, then send 'em down! Minimize damage!"

Tempura Wizard appearing beside him, Mirage took command against one board. "Do the thing!" He ordered, gesturing at one of the boards with his dart gun. "The food-blob thing!" And so the Tempura Wizard lobbed it's floury attack towards an oncoming board, causing it's tempura transformation. As it slowed, Mirage tried to put his plan to work. "I know this is gonna be disappointing, but you gotta pinch that one and drop it off the ledge! It's too much for you to eat!" Mirage felt bad, though in reality he wasn't sure if the Striker even had feelings. Regardless, he watched as his summon went against the board, chopsticks at the ready. The spiritbound Tempura Wizard obliged, plucking the giant snack up from the ground and neatly depositing it over the edge before it disappeared. Kamek and Bowser followed Mirage’s lead, Kamek sending the blob flying, while Bowser supplied the muscle to help toss/ haul the tempura over the edge.

Blazermate meanwhile, while flying, saw the board with the red crack flying around. While she wasn’t entirely sure what it did, she did know she had to tag it for its effect to happen, and she made an attempt to do just that, being late to saving the bloated Bella but managing to touch the crack on the board, causing the board to rupture as the crack opened wide and a single ghost appeared with a spooky look on its face. It let out a shrill cry before zooming off into the darkness.

At the same time Link had pushed his way to the middle of the group, where the dangling chain of Junior’s hook still swung back and forth. He wrapped his arms around it and gave it a yank, causing the hook to become undone and fall into his outstretched hands. Then he turned, standing over Nadia and Ace, to throw the hook down to the plunging princess. “Bella, catch!” He allied out, breaking the silence he had maintained since before the battle had even started. The grappling hook instead magnetized to the nearest magnet half and clapped against it, much to Nadia’s surprise. Link’s eyes slid over to it. The blank horror on his face would have been comical in a less desperate situation. Getting the hook clear would take more time than Bella had before she dropped beyond the magnets’ range.

Geralt ran to the side of the platform, looking down and watching Bella slowly, agonizingly, descend into the abyss below them. He saw that the magnets were too weak to lift the girl, and he looked down at his body as an idea came to him. Those things were responsible for them transforming, right? The Lady’s own curse was different from this eternal childhood they had, and Geralt had felt some kind of...power...within him ever since taking the Resentment’s Spirit into him.

Looking back to Bella, he let that Power swell up within him, overflowing until it eventually burst out of him in the form of a beam of light that swept over Bella’s form. When the lavender beam faded, cast down to disappear into the illimitable dark beneath, it left behind a confused but much smaller Water Princess, no longer doomed to drift into obscurity. Instead she flew upward toward the magnets, hauled by the tail as if plucked by the seat of her pants, until her rescuers could grab hold and pull her to safety. Bella collapsed onto her hands and knees, blubbering tears of relief. Nothing like a near-death experience to teach someone the meaning of fear, Nadia guessed. She patted the little Abyssal on the back as her chest heaved, exhausted by the ordeal herself. “Hey, whoa. Betcha never thought ya’d be glad to see yourself like this again, huh?”

Sakura rose from her prone position and scrambled over to Bella, putting a hand on the newly re-littled girls shoulder. ”Bella-san! I knew you’d be okay.” She smiled breathlessly at her before giving a thankful peace sign at Ace, Nadia, and Geralt. ”That was clutch!”

Of course, the whole rescue would have failed if not for the defensive efforts of the others. Mirage and Kamek managed to dispose of two boards with their Tempura-making abilities, but the third found a surprise solution in Blazermate. Having identified a structural weakness with her scanner perhaps, the Medabot struck at a glowing crack on its length, which both broke the thing and released a spirit into the open. It wasted no time flying away, albeit with such speed and direction that its appearance couldn’t be an accident. Exuding a phantasmal red glow, it arced through the darkness until it reached its goal just a second later, illuminating a familiar dark kimono and cracked porcelain mask. After finding the Lady the ghost circled her in a quick, tight orbit until she teleported away, only to be chased down and orbited once again. She repeated the motion, appearing in front of the doors leading to the Helm, but found the spirit a relentless pursuer. Though baffled at first, the Maw’s mistress quickly realized -along with the children- exactly what this meant.

Her stealth was compromised; she could ambush the Seekers no longer. The darkness was no longer her ally.

Despite the hours upon hours of pain, suffering, and loss, Peach found it within herself to smile. A devious, gleeful energy possessed her, prompting her to point a little finger forward and shriek the two words that everyone wanted to hear.

“GET HER!”

In reply the Lady gave a shriek of anger, as if daring the children to try. She lifted up her arms and gathered her arsenal. Shards of glass, swarms of metal bits, stage props, whiplike sections of cord, and the last two planks all began to swirl around her, a storm of debris ready to rage against all comers. The final showdown was at hand.

First things first: the Seekers needed to get off their plank and onto firmer footing. Already the Lady hurtled projectiles their way, but with her light source unnecessary, Hat Kid finally unleashed her beam. The multicolored surge of energy blazed forth, blasting open a path for the others to make their way toward the Lady. Rika joined in on providing covering fire, hammering the triggers on her cannons and unloading her scant remaining reserves towards the Lady. Adding to this from off stage came a barrage of cookware (and some rotten tomatoes) from the chef bros who hadn’t joined the performance and had instead been ordered to stay in reserve for a moment just like this.

Bowser was directed via his mute son to retrieve the magnetized sentient meat hook. Hauling it above his head he spun it round and then blindly hurled the Hook into the darkness, the little lights of its six ‘eyes’ glowing and illuminating the ceiling bound scaffolding as it passed it by. Upon seeing its objective, Hook swerved, latched onto the metal framework and announced “Your desire has been hooked. Please hold on tight.”

”Alright! Now come here” Bowser said before grabbing Peach in a time honored tradition, and then leaped into the abyss, swinging across the gap with the princess in tow like a certain great ape and then landing on the other side, before turning and tossing it back to Mirage, who nearly ended up stumbling off the edge as he tried to get a grip on their chance at escape. Thankfully, he managed to grab hold and mentally prepared himself for the swing.

"Okay. _{Deep breaths, nothin’ to worry about.}" He muttered to himself, used to zipping around and being flung into the air, but not above bottomless-looking pits of darkness, and without support to break his falls nonetheless. Putting a face of confidence on, he turned and called out, noting there were quite a few of them to be going across one at a time. "Next stop, off this freakin' plank! Two at a time, c’mon!" Link wordlessly joined him, eyes fixed across the way, before they swung out across the pit. Mirage’s confidence instantly dropped as he yelled in terror the entire way, starting from his feet leaving solid ground. When they touched down on the other side Link, who hadn’t even seemed to notice the pit, gave his companion two light pats on the shoulder before throwing the chain back and starting forward. Mirage followed quickly while wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

As the others began getting off the plank they were standing on, Geralt reached down to the Nail and pulled at it, his new tail even slipping around his torso and wrapping the weapon up as he pulled. When that failed, he shook his head and whistled, the Nail popping right out of the wood and into his waiting hand. “Good.”

Blazermate being the only flyer of the group, picked up Geralt and Sakura, them being the lightest of the seekers and both not having much in the way of powers or abilities. The food items being thrown didn’t really bother Blazermate, while the storm of glass and bits the lady was sending out weren’t doing too much damage to her, not like when she tried to crush the medabot. Her metal body also shielded the seekers she was carrying from some of the storm, but not much more than that. While Blazermate could track the Lady, the ghost being unable to attack her but incredibly angry and aggressive at pursuing her and always finding the correct lady let everyone else know her location too which was really useful. Finding solid ground for the two in her arms didn’t take her long, as they really only needed to cross a large gap to the other side of the stage.

Once Sakura was set down, she exhaled, safely away from that isolated plank. She clutched the mirror tightly, examining the situation. ”Ms. Blazermate, would it be too aggressive if you tried to just fly me right in her face?” She asked. ”She might be too fast for us, but...”

”We might as well try.” Blazermate said, not happy about the plan, but seeing it as the best way to get this fight over with. The lady didn’t seem to be able to control or destroy the mirror, so that helped ease her worries at least.

Her question trailed off as she spotted Ace hurtling through the air, ejected from the plank ahead of the hook-swinging pack courtesy of Nadia, who’d put her handy-dandy fan to use once again. After the monster hunter landed, the feral stowed her fan in favor of her magnet, and despite all the laws of physics it took just a strong thrust of her half towards his in order to pull Nadia straight across the pit and onto firmer footing. That solidified Peach, Bowser, Blazermate, Geralt, Sakura, Ace, and Nadia as the first wave of heroes ready for action. Though Link plus Mirage would arrive in another moment, and Bella would no doubt follow with Kamek and Nome Junior shortly, the opening created by Hatty and the Abyssals’ bombardment wasn’t going last forever.

With a cry the Lady unleashed her maelstrom of matter, pitching a fusillade of wood, glass, and metal toward the heroes. The efforts of the koopas in reserve quickly turned out not just to be in vain but actively harmful, since the power of the Maw’s mistress caught their hurled projectiles up in the chaos. It was now or never; if the heroes could brave the storm long enough for Sakura to get in range, the day was theirs.

Running forward into the fray, Geralt braved the storm of projectiles with an arm up to protect his face from punishment, trusting his armor to prevent a lethal blow to his other vitals. He took some punishment, for sure, but he was able to redirect some of the attacks with the Nail as well. “Let’s do this!” He rallied.

“Butcher.” Link said as he trudged forward toward the oncoming storm. Now that they weren't on that single thin platform Link was free to use the monster he had acquired. The butcher surged forth out of the boy, standing tall in front of the group of children gripping an expertly prepared side of beef in his meaty hands. He held it out in front of him as a shield, letting it and his own body when necessary be tenderized by the brunt of Lady’s assault in lieu of the children behind him.

“LADY!” Larry bellowed. “I QUIT!” He charged forward into the storm, protecting himself with the meat, looking to punch a new hole that Sakura and Blazermate could use to close in before his timer expired. To the man’s credit he managed to armor through a lot of punishment, and his advance paved the way for others to follow. As he charged, Ace and Nadia followed close behind, using their magnets to gather all the metal they could and take it out of the equation.

Bowser’s response was to yell ”Quit throwing her ammo you goons!” at his minions while trying his best to shield himself and Peach with his shell armored back, arms held over his head to prevent it being bonked or worse by the flying debris.

Behind them Rika, Kamek and Jr were all having some trouble with the hook swing due to the mage’s small size, the prince’s unfamiliarity with his body’s weakness, and Rika’s locked in hands not being the most dexterous in the world. ”Kick me closer, I want to give that creepy schmuck a toasting she won't forget!” Bowser demanded, before retracting his limbs and presenting Peach with a very kickable turtle shell. The princess obliged without delay, possibly using even more force than the situation called for, for whatever reason. Hat Kid saw and took the same opportunity to drive Bowser forward, tethering to the rafters to build instant momentum with which to swing boots first into the rear lip of his shell in tandem with Peach, assisting her in propelling him. As a result the little Koopa King hurtled across the stage, shrugging off everything that came his way until he entered the Lady’s range.

”This is it, Ms. Blazermate!” Sakura said, hopping up into the robot’s arms. Holding onto her tight, she could hold the mirror behind Blazermate or in front of her, with a quick twist of her waist. That way it was better than Blazermate simply just taking the mirror, lest the Lady take her by surprise with a teleport or a telekinetic grab again. Sakura squinted, closing one eye, and lowered her face until it was right up against Blazermate’s shoulder.

Blazermate, using what clearing the others could give to approach, held Sakura as she held the mirror ready to shine it at the lady when they got close. Thanks to Blazermate’s ghost, she could track the lady even easier than normal now, and kept aware of her as she flew towards the lady, getting in position for Sakura to shine the mirror.

In quick a whole host of children, having braved the Lady’s onslaught with only a handful of cuts and bruises to show for it, closed in on their hated foe. She reached out to receive them, taking hold of Bowser and Geralt, only for Ace and Nadia to surge forward into her grasp instead. There were just too many targets, and with the situation no longer under the Lady’s control, she couldn’t deal with the chaos. And through that tumult, in a blaze of glory, came Sakura. Before the Maw’s mistress knew what hit her, she found herself looking once more at the reviled mirror. Within the glow, unbearable and blinding, she saw a reflection that could be neither ignored nor accepted, a reminder of mortality and degradation that was anathema to her. She couldn’t bear to look at it, but nor could she look away.

One last scream echoed through the theater, this one longer than the rest, starting stronger and ending weaker. The ghost detonated against the floor and darkness took hold for a moment, until another spotlight came on -albeit somewhat fitful and flickering- to illuminate the fallen form of the Lady. She lay on her front with strangled breathing, her hair undone and her mask in pieces, in front of the door to the Helm. Sakura’s mirror had shattered as well, its purpose served. As the children gathered around their now helpless oppressor, that familiar, dreadful hunger welled up within a few of them once more. What would be more fitting, after all, than to devour the devourer?

(...To the victors go the spoils…)

Not allowing their target time to rally, Geralt quickly stepped forward and raised the nail up, holding it ominously for what may have seemed an eternity, but was only a moment before driving it downwards into her chest, piercing her heart as he’d promised Nadia. With a final, weeping gasp she perished. It was with a self-satisfied sigh that he watched her, before turning his head to the others. “I’m sorry if you wanted to make that slower, but I’ve learned it’s best not to underestimate a beaten foe.”

When he looked back, however, he found himself disquieted by the faces he half-witnessed among the others in the murky darkness. Some harbored an uncanny blankness and a wide-eyed stare, or others a longing, hungry leer bordering on fanaticism. Whether driven by a simple albeit powerful desire for revenge, or perhaps a desire for something else, the expressions he saw in that moment of unawareness made him oddly confident in his decision to not stand on circumstance.

”Why would you ever want to prolong the death of a serious threat like that? You did a good job Geralt. Always end a robattle as fast as possible after all.” Blazermate said, patting Geralt on the head. Although as she looked at the others following Geralt's gaze, she said. ”Or uh… I guess that was good for a different reason… Are they ok?”

As the Lady turned to ash, her corporeal form destroyed, the others shook off the strange mood that possessed them. The fading of adrenaline left little legs wobbling as their owners did their best to stay standing, not giving up the ghost just yet. There was more to be done.

Sakura had instinctively averted her eyes, staring at the broken mirror in her hands. ”We did it. We really won.” She put a hand up to her cheek. Dry. Sakura exhaled. For some reason, she found herself wanting to say something to the Lady, ask her a question. Maybe something like…’why?’ But now that it was over, Sakura felt taller than before. Even if she hadn’t grown an inch.

“I knew you could do it.” Link said, his voice as wobbly as he felt right now. He looked down at his little hands expectantly, then frowned. It was going to be a struggle freeing the crocodile if this turned out to be permanent.

The Cadet sighed long and deep. So it was over. Despite a couple of missteps, it was an amazing display of teamwork from the Seekers... but it didn't feel right to celebrate and start patting each other on the back for a job well done. Especially not with the macabre applause from the audience he'd all but forgotten about until this point. He didn't say anything aloud for once, just nodded along with Link's comment, hoping his thoughts of you did amazing Sakura! could be transmitted through the air. The Cadet glanced at Nadia, giving her a little shoulder bump and a weak but encouraging smile. The next step was getting out of this place and back to their bodies.

Out of many possible last minute arrivals, Primrose had not expected one of Validar's Grimleal captains to accompany them. Her appearance made Primrose wonder if she wasn't the only one tagging along. The dancer's eyes scanned the area for anything that might give away an invisible presence, but it was futile as one might expect. Well, so much for washing the paranoia away, she thought to herself, crossing her arms. She nodded to Ciella, giving her a polite if muted greeting, and then left the woman to her own devices.

For Primrose, there wasn't much of anything that she needed to do during the train ride. There were some questions she wanted to ask before they disembarked, but from the looks of it there would be plenty of time to ask. At first she was content to sit on her own, gaze out of the train at the sands - but after Tora toured the train and invited people to test his defense, the dancer went up to spectate for a little while. It might have been training for Tora, but it was a good lesson for Primrose as well. Seeing how her allies fought would help her decide what to empower them with when she danced. Up until then she had been more or less using her best judgement with stolen glances in the midst of battle.

When asked if she planned to participate in beating the Nopon up, Primrose shook her head.

"Just observing," she told them. After a few rounds though she piped up during a health break and said, "Actually, there is something I would like to try. Given how our abilities seem to return in bits and pieces, there is something I want to make sure of..."

She stepped forward, explaining that there was a "divine skill" she had recalled at some point yesterday, and it was meant to spread the power of others. She had already confirmed that it worked for her own abilities, and now she wanted to see if it still worked when she danced for another. "...so I will need a few volunteers," she added.

Sealticge's Seduction, a provocative if short display, lived up to it's expectations. Buffs like Midna's Dragon Dance spread out to affect all allies present, and though it couldn't be tested just then Primrose was confident that the opposite still held true as well: that weaknesses inflicted on one enemy would affect all enemies. With some strategy, either option could be a potent advantage.

Speaking of strategies, it was about time that Primrose went looking for some information. With her comrades informed of the combination potential she bid the fighters farewell and entered the body of the train once more. It was Robin and his blonde shadow that the dancer sought out. Back in the underground temple she had been intrigued by a power they hadn't ended up using. If it was something innate to the duo, that would sate her curiosity just fine - but if it was some spell, some magic she might learn as well, or even some new piece of information about the world at large... then she didn't want to pass up the opportunity. Just as she did with the Master of Masters, Primrose didn't hesitate to seek out the answers to her questions.

Once she found Robin and Tharja, Primrose gave them a smile that she intended to be disarming.

"Good morning. I don't think we had time yesterday to really meet. My name is Primrose." The duo could infer a lot about Primrose. Clad in her red and showy outfit, it was clear she was a dancer. And given her bold, if brief, introduction it was also clear that she wanted something from them. Primrose did not insult the pair by beating around the bush.

"If you don't mind, there has been a little something nagging on my mind... yesterday, in the temple, when you were both still Gleaming," she said, giving the term they'd been using so far, "at the last moment your eyes and body glowed and you were filled with a terrible power."

She paused, giving them a moment to collect their thoughts as they surely knew the question she was about to ask. "What was that?"

Sure enough, there were no shortage of people wanting to help Tora get tougher, and they had no shortage for doing some. Some saw it as a chance to improve themselves, or just to warm up for the cold confrontation in store for them on the mountaintop. A few probably realized that a more formidable frontliner meant better chances for the damage-dealers to do their thing, so his proposal offered strategic value, too. No doubt at least one wanted to help out of the kindness of his or her heart; conversely, Poppi wondered if any of them opted in just to wipe that smug smile of Tora’s face. Even among heroes, someone who could be as annoying and selfish as her Masterpon tended to draw ire. If any such people worked out their frustration here and now rather than down the road, though, all the better. In short, it was hard to ignore how many positives Tora offering himself to get beat up really had. Whether he realized them all, of course, was another matter.

First up to bat was Raz, the newbie. With the young psychic even less intimidating at first glance than he was, Tora was all smiles and full confidence. “Okay, meh! This chance for Tora and new friend get know each other better!” When it came to actually putting Raz’s talents into practice, however, he ran into a snag. As it turned out, the wannabe psychonaut needed to actually get angry at Tora to be able to attack with his mind, and with Raz in good spirits and too new for Tora to have gotten on his nerves, aggression took a while to build. When he finally did launch his Psi-Blast, Tora unceremoniously hid behind his shield and blocked the bolts without even a slight issue. It took a moment for the Nopon to poke his head out from behind it. “What happen? Tora thought friend said he ready, meh. Start anytime~!” By pretending to not even notice the attacks again and again, Tora managed to build up enmity faster, until Raz was battering his shield at a pretty decent clip. He never did manage to break the Nopon’s guard, or move fast enough that Tora couldn’t block him, but in the end the team’s tank gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder anyway. “Good work, friend! Thanks to Raz-Raz, Tora think of new ways to provoke enemies and get attention, like true defender should!”

Midna came next, and unlike with the psychic, a challenge from her was no laughing matter. Knowing that trying to remember everything she could do would keep her waiting, the Nopon decided to just roll with it. “Alright, Tora ready. Bring it on!” Without delay Midna obliged, growing her shadow hand and slugging him with blistering speed. Luckily she didn’t try to get around his guard, but even though her strike dealt him no damage he ended up staggering backward, practically flailing for a few steps until he regained his balance. “Urk!” he complained. “That just what Tora mean. Always get moved around even if block work fine, then get hit by next attack.”

By virtue of being a spectator, Poppi offered a suggestion. “Masterpon, it look like your stance is unstable. Try turning body sideways a little. Bend front knee more than back, and hold shield on one side rather than straight in front.

Tora implemented her suggestion. “Like this?” After receiving confirmation, he asked Midna to hit him again. To his delight, instead of getting guard-broken he only slid back a short way. “Wow-wow! To think that small change have such big difference!”

She gave him a mask along with a request of her own, then left while he studied it. By the time she came back she radiated an intense energy that left Tora a little nervous. “Muhhh...friend Midna remember that goal of training not kill Tora, yes…?” He cleared his throat after receiving a reassuring nod from Poppi that told him she’d help to mitigate the blow, just as she would with a tough foe in a real fight. “O-okay, ready whenever…”

Unfortunately, he was not ready for such an incredibly amped-up uppercut. Midna’s punch blasted through the ether barrier Poppi channeled to protect her Masterpon, then struck his shield with such insane force that Tora launched skyward like a cannonball, wailing as he flew. Poppi rolled her eyes, switched to QT Pi mode, and rocketed off after him. In a lucky turn her barrier plus his defense and weight had actually mitigated the blow to a pretty remarkable extent, so it wasn’t that long at all before the adult-form Poppi flew back down with Tora held in her arms. “...moment there, really did think that Tora got punched into sun,” he was saying, breathing heavily. “Also, lost shield. Wing too numb to hold, fell right out of fingers. Good thing Poppi can make new one.”

“Mm-hm.” Poppi allowed him to hop out of her arms, then shifted to QT mode to outfit her Masterpon with the Eryx Mech Arms. “It go without saying that even great tank should not try block everything. Poppi Alpha make Tora defense tank, but QT make Tora evasion tank. Masterpon, exercise judgement in what to block and what to dodge.”

“Make sense.” Tora nodded, then held a little hand to his chin in thought. “You know, Tora wonder if there way to get rid of buffs on targets. It only matter of time before we face enemies that do same thing as Midna. Let’s keep eye out, meh.” With that thought pinned for later he hefted Eryx, ready for more. “Okay!”

He, Midna, her minions, and Yoshitsune sparred for a few more minutes, doing his best to withstand an onslaught from multiple foes. With more agile weapons he could evade a lot better, allowing some strikes to go past him rather than hit him, but two fists versus one shield meant he could also block in multiple directions. At several points he instinctively tried to counter-attack, only to remember that he should only be defending. Having to think more exercised his brain as much as his body, and by the time he was done the Nopon was panting from exertion. “Mehhh!” he gasped. “Poppi, need water!”

“Roger, roger.” With her Water Core already equipped, Poppi hosed him down with missiles of water, allowing him to drink his fill in the process.

Next up came Sectonia, and Tora saw no reason to refuse her help. She started things off right with a big serving of unblockable lighting, the bulk of which flowed straight through his armaments and into his body. “MEH-EH-EH-EH-EH!” he garbled, electrified and tingling all over. “Not fair! There nothing Tora can do about that!” His eyes widened. “Meh-meh! Actually, there is! Poppi, switch Earth Core!” Once she did, the elemental advantage increased his electric resistance enough to make the lightning much less punishing, to the point where Sectonia moved on. While her bolts were not projectiles that her mask affected, her Void Globules were, and to Tora’s extreme displeasure he found that they penetrated his defenses too. “Meeeeeeeh!” he wailed. “Sectonia big cheatypon!” After finding that out, he prioritized dodging instead. Although he did consider swapping Poppi to her Light Core, he’d already learned the lesson that Dark and Light were mutually destructive, so it wouldn’t benefit him on the defense. At least her light rings could be blocked normally, and all he needed to do to dodge them was either jump or duck as required.

Once the magic show concluded, Fox joined in. His shots did not faze Tora, no matter which he used, but when Fox rushed in Tora found himself in for a nasty surprise. Rather than strike, the pilot reached out and grabbed him, deftly maneuvering Tora off his feet and into the air in one fluid throw. “Meh?!” Confused and disoriented, he was under attack again even before he hit the ground. Amidst a rain of blows he scrambled to get his defense up, but with the paranoia that Fox’s grab inspired in him his guard was in shambles. It wasn’t too long before what probably constituted Tora’s hardest training session yet came to an end, leaving the Nopon to heal up while he panted. “Meh, meh, meh,” he wheezed. “Tora not really run into grab-happy enemies before. Have much to think about, meh…”

No stranger to grabs, Band offered his two cents. “Ah, the classic dilemma. Anyone with decent offense and half a brain knows how to pull a strike-throw mixup game. Thing is, it’s a mind game. The goal is to condition ya into blockin’, then grab that block and box your ears some. And if ya get too jumpy throwin’ out attacks to foil their grabs, they’ll smack ya upside the head with from another angle, a long-range attack, or even armor.”

Tora looked aghast. “That sound awful! Blocking is cornerstone of Tora fighting! What Tora supposed to do?!”

“Simple. Get in their heads ‘fore they get in yours,” the detective told him, tapping his noggin with a mechanical arm. “If ya show ‘em they ain’t gonna get away with bein’ clever, they’ll have to put a li’l more respect on your name. Or, you could make ‘em think they’ve got your head spinnin’, then punish their carelessness so hard they start thinkin’ twice!”

“So Masterpon win by making enemy think he stupid?” Poppi mused. “That should be easy. Masterpon is natural!”

“Hey!”

After that, lesser-known members of the crew tried their luck. Braum cheerfully pitted shield against shield, slamming down on the sturdy little Nopon’s defense with his own mighty slab. Rather than take it until the jarring impacts deadened his limbs, Tora worked on his evasion, figuring out better ways to move. The Phantom Thieves lined up against him four at a time, forcing him to think and react faster than the Nopon had in his whole life. Against the battery of weapons and elemental attacks, he could only hold his defense, Poppiswap cores, and pray. They made for such an effective team that Tora resolved to never, ever try fighting them again. He fared pretty well against Blue Poison’s crossbow bolts and the Scout’s kit of weapons, although their agility kept them on his toes. The Heavy opted for a boxing match against Tora with Mech Arms, giving the Nopon a lesson on proper form when it came to pugilism.

Even Ciella stepped in to help, treating Tora to hard-hitting water skewers and even a deadly Rain of Arrows. With his defenses turned upward and Poppi to help, however, Tora withstood the move that ended Amara’s life intact. His experience with Midna and Heavy then allowed him to better deal with Ciella’s summoned water arms. By the time he finished with Ciella, though, he had no gas left in the tank, so Tora called it quits to settle down and relax for the rest of the ride. Mao, Jesse, Sora, and the rest could take their shots later. Even though his training killed a lot of time, there was a lot of desert to go. Bit by bit, mile by mile, the riders began to get a better idea of just how immense their destination was--and how much farther they truly had to go.

---

In the early afternoon, with the sun practically overhead, the train finally came to a stop at the base of Split Mountain, where the red sands really started to slope upwards to form the foothills of the colossal eminence that overlooked the Sandswept Sky in its entirety. From here, it was less a mountain and more of a wall, spanning as far as anyone could see in either direction. One could only see its cleft peak by craning their neck because the mountain wasn’t at all as vertical as it looked from afar. To say that the last leg of their journey would be more arduous than all the rest combined did not seem at all an unfair assessment. Tora shuddered; if he’d felt small after first setting foot in this desert, standing before this mountain among mountains made him feel like an insect, just waiting to be crushed beneath the unfathomable weight of the apex of the world.

At the very least, one final light of warmth and hope awaited the Seekers before they began their climb. The Railway Gun came to a stop at an open-air station just outside a cheerful little town, the walls of every building painted and decorated with vivid, festive colors. Bright green cactuses grew tall from intricately patterned pots, rows of flower pots covered the balconies and window sills, and the big fountain in the place’s center burbled invitingly. The residents, poncho-wearing and maraca-shaking skeletons with painted skulls of blue and green, were just about the friendliest undead that Big Band had ever seen. They welcomed the big batch of new arrivals to their Tostarena Town with open arms, offering drinks as if their visitors were checking into a resort. After Band realized just how many tourists seemed to be in town, though, it made a lot more sense. There were non-Tostarenans everywhere, although for the moment most were more interested in the gigantic Railway Gun that just appeared on their doorstep than enjoying the town’s many recreational and cultural attractions, not that Band could blame them. It wasn’t something one saw every day, after all.



“Mountain climbing, huh?” the Tostarenan in charge confirmed once informed of the newcomers’ intentions. “Bit late for an early start to beat the heat, but you’ll cool off real quick once you hit the snowline! It’s a popular pastime, but most visitors don’t go much higher than that. Looks like you folks came at least a little prepared, but it couldn’t hurt to stop by our sports shop...” he pointed out the building in question, “...to make doubly sure, eh? Either way, enjoy yourselves as long as you’re in Tostarena Town!”

“Whatever ya say, buster!” Peacock told the Tostarenan by way of farewell, and after Big Band tipped his hat to the greeter in thanks, both turned his attention back on the mountain. Poppi and Sectonia’s ice antlions helped out on trip here, but once the climb began in earnest, he wouldn’t be sweltering in his trench coat for long. As he scoped out the mountainside, trying in vain to get a rough idea of what might be a good route to take, he happened to see Ram flying high above, little more than a speck way up in the sky. Peacock noticed, too. “Howsabout we skip the climb the rocket all the way, old timer?”

Band shook his head. “Even the sky ain’t the limit, but unless ya want me paintin’ the mountainside red, as ya like to put it, I gotta set me some aerial boundaries.”

His charge looked disappointed, if not surprised. “What a stiff.”

Raising his voice, the detective addressed the group at large as they milled around. “Let’s get some lunch in us and walk it off ‘round town, pickin’ up whatever we can. Then we’re headed five hundred miles high.”

“Ooh, lunch,” Tora chimed in, although his agreement came a little half-heartedly. Although it was probably for the best that they didn’t encounter any giant monsters or anything on the way over, he’d very much wanted to see the Railway Gun in action. “Oh, well. Maybe other time,” he sighed, then turned to waddle into town alongside Poppi to see what Tostarena Town had to offer.



Freed from the long shadow of the Lady at last, the children could allow their spirits to lift, even if just a little. With the mastermind behind the Maw slain, the darkness itself seemed a little less unbearable, as if beaten back by the light of hope. Together, the Seekers of Light had escaped from or overcome a gauntlet of nightmares, from such alien horrors as Bongo Bongo all the way down to knife-wielding maniacs like the chefs, and as far as they knew their salvation from this wretched place lay just beyond those doors and up those stairs. Only the Guests of Honor remained as potential challengers, but the unscrupulous five did not stir from their gallery boxes. Instead those that cared (mostly Vauthry, Oren and Slug-for-a-butt) made manifest their appreciation of the scintillating show via applause or booming laughter. If someone wanted to try freeing them they could, but Hat Kid, the miraculous savior whose time away from the group evidently supplied her with a wealth of knowledge about this place, ushered the group onward.

As the group left the ravaged kabuki theater behind and began the long climb upstairs to the helm, Nadia reflected on the situation. Victory did not come at a cost. Glenn was gone, his face as he disappeared into the hood of the Resentment demon still fresh in her mind. Friend or not, nobody deserved to go out like that. She saw no sign of the Runaway Kid either, though if Junior’s condition was anything to go off, he too remained a faceless Nome. Another tragic loss, though if not for the forewarning provided by his misfortune, Nadia shuddered to think of the Lady picking the unwary Seekers off one by one in the dark. Three of Bowser’s five koopas disappeared during that final fight too, but she half-remembered seeing Junior summon those things, so maybe they were just disposable minions. There was also that guy in the green cap, vanished all the way back in the Depths without ever telling her his name. And even with all that out of the way, there was still one last, troublesome problem…

“I can’t believe we’re still kids,” Nadia complained. If asked, just about everyone present would have probably guessed that the end of the Resentments would spell the end for their curse as well, or failing that, at least the death of their even more evil and magical mistress would have done the trick. Everyone’s continued youth, however, put an end to that line of wishful thinking. Of course, nobody wanted to consider the possibility that this hex might require the services of a professional curse-breaker, or maybe even be permanent.

Bella considered the matter as she ascended the stairs. “I didn’t get big again, either. So it's not just ze enemies, but also Monsieur Geralt’s magic zat isn’t expiring.”

“Just keep an eye out,” Peach said, trying to be encouraging. “If the Lady was protecting the helm, maybe the solution is up here.”

Not long after the tiresome climb came to an end, and the Seekers pushed through into the Maw’s command center. They found themselves in a dark, domed room, with a long, narrow window on one side that allowed the children to peer into the watery deep. Above the glass lay a row of giant screens, each stylized like a giant open eye with lid-shaped frames, each providing a view into various parts of the Maw. The Belly, the Depths, the Dorms, the Restaurant, and even the Kitchen, where the remaining chefs continued their miserable work, could all be seen. The one that caught Nadia’s attention, however, was the big one. This screen showed a view of the ocean’s tumultuous surface, staring out across the waves at a lone island sitting calmly in the eye of the storm. A few moments’ spectatorship made it possible to gauge the rate at which it appeared to be getting bigger, and that could only mean one thing: that it was a lot closer than it looked. Nadia’s eyes widened as she remembered the mission briefing. “Is that...is that where the boss is?! We’re pointed right at it, and we’re so close!” She turned to see Hatty looking more smug than ever, her arms crossed beneath a catlike smile. “Did you do this?”

The Seekers’ original child nodded, looking mighty pleased with herself.

Peach marveled at the little girl’s achievement, although it also puzzled her. “I wonder why the Lady didn’t stop this?” In reply, Hatty produced a large, important-looking gear from her pocket, and pointed toward the rear of the dome. A raised section of floor formed a thick ring around the back half of it, accessible by stairs from the middle, and at the top of the landing lay an elevator with a sign that read Engine Room with a down arrow. The princess realized what must have happened quickly. “Sabotage?! Wait, but then won’t-”

“Hey!” A call from Bella rang out, having already gone back to check out the stairs. “You all might want to see zis!”

When attended to, the Abyssal pointed out something strange around the left side of the raised area. Missed when they first came in thanks to the distraction of the window and screens, a gaunt man sat on a bench by the railing. Wearing nothing but threadbare trousers and a full set of prison manacles, he did not rise from his chair, but waved his arms in rhythmic motions over the bright green magical circle at his feet. At his fingertips swirled a locus of sorcerous energy, a nexus of serpentine shapes, hooded like cobras, locked in a ceaseless dance. His nervous gaze had been on the children the whole time, and once approached, he wasted no time entreating them in a quavering voice. “W-what do you want?”

Peach furrowed her brows at him. “What is this? What are you doing?”

“Nothing, nothing! I am just a humble servant,” the prisoner insisted. “I do not wish to interfere. I won't cause you trouble, I won't! Swear on me mum!”

Nadia put her hands on her little hips, her face as angry as a little kid’s could get. To say she had her suspicions would be an understatement. “Hey, buddy, we’re not kitten around here. We asked ya what the hell that magic is. If it’s nothin’, why don’tcha tell us what this is for?”

Sensing that the unruly youngsters wouldn’t be satisfied without an answer, the man quickly replied, “W-why, haha. Just keepin’ the lights on, is all. I’m stuck ‘ere, same as you!” The whole time he continued working his magic, and now that she was close enough to feel it on her skin she got a real feeling of wrongness, of something nasty and unnatural.

It was just then that all hell broke loose.

There came a calamitous noise, and a sudden tremor of incredible force shook the Maw. Taken completely by surprise, the kids went flying right off their feet, over or through the railing, and toward the dome’s glass-faced front. With nerves already shot, Nadia couldn’t suppress a long yowl of fear until she finally rolled to stop on the hard metal floor and realized that she hadn’t died. Too shocked and battered by the experience to spring to her feet, she lay there dazed and wondering what the hell just happened, but a quick look around could spell it out to just about anyone. The whole room -no the whole Maw- had pitched forward, leaning like a drunkard to one side. Her gaze landed on the big screen, its view now no better than the window beneath it.

Being a creature of the deep herself, Bella figured it out. “We hit ze seabed!” she cried, trying and failing to stand on the smooth and increasingly slanted floor. Her eyes fell on a confused Hatty. “Zis place is as tall as a mountain! If it goes anywhere near ze land, it’ll hit ze bottom long before it reaches shore!”

By now the whole Maw was shaking. Rivets flew from the walls, creating sprays of seawater. All sorts of alarms were going off, as if the colossal vessel itself was crying out in pain with a thousand voices. The floor was only a moment away from reaching a forty-five degree angle, quickly becoming too steep to walk on. Peach curled her fingers through the metal grate of the floor to stop herself sliding, and through the chaos wailed, “We won’t survive like this! Someone kill that mage! Look for escape pods!”

“Too late!” Nadia yelled, pointing dumbly at the window. Anyone who followed her gaze would see not an endless expanse of water, but the rapidly oncoming surface of the sea floor. “Brace yoursel-!”

Impact--unimaginable, incomprehensible. Force enough to instantly render senseless. All that was left, then, was darkness.

---

When at last numbness gave way to feeling, the first things Nadia felt were the cold, and the damp. They made for a brutal combination, although one effective in shocking the body to action. From her ears down to her toes, that awful chill filled every inch of her. She heard the crash of waves and felt them on her bare flesh; she heard the whisper of wind and felt its fingers playing in her hair. Her dry tongue ran over chapped lips and received the loathsome taste of brine. Her crusty, bleary eyes slid open to see a crab mere inches away from her. It was dead, lying on its back, a black cord trailing limply away from its abdomen into...the sand. She blinked. The sand. Not metal, nor wood. Realizing that she lay on her cheek, Nadia tried to get up, but could not, so instead she craned her eyes as far as they would go. A storm-dark, cloudy sky hung over her, and within it shone a strange, yellow moon, shrunken like a collapsed eye. Motion drew her gaze toward the body that lay beside her--her body. It had rolled onto its back at her bidding. Those beige scars, that teal crop top...there was no mistaking it. It was her adult form, modified by her shipgirl fusion, but hers nonetheless. Nadia made a sound somewhere between a laugh and choke, spit out seawater, and sent her body blindly grasping for her head. A moment more and Ms Fortune was whole, kneeling in the surf of an unknown and rainy beach, her palms on the ground as she got the rest of the seawater out of her system. She’d made it. She was alive.



When Nadia could stand again, she got to shaky feet in the mucky sand, wary of the dead things that littered the water’s edge all around her. The corpses of fish, molluscs, and crustaceans of all kinds lay in droves, scattered by some cruel tide. To her right lay the rotting, bloody hulk of a giant whale, although with those tentacles it was like no whale she’d ever seen before, and it wasn’t the only on this beach by any means. There were a myriad of shipwrecks, their masts pointed skyward like the spears of a forgotten army, but the honor of ‘biggest wreck’ went to the Maw. Nadia turned around, and through the downpour that soaked her to the bone saw the gargantuan nightmare vessel laying half-submerged in the sea, extending so far that its bottom lay hidden beneath the waves, like a legendary worm. The smokestack that crowned its rounded top had broken off and fallen, splitting open the bloated carcass of a crab-legged leviathan to reveal the seaworms and other parasites gorging themselves on its innards. A combined sense of revulsion and triumph drove her to point her cannon right into the mass of parasites, but commanding it to fire made it the weapon click-click-click. Too numb to get mad at this point, Nadia popped open a panel to see an Oil meter empty. I need oil to use this thing, she marvelled. The next second her harness plopped into the surf, abandoned. Of course. Right now, she couldn’t be bothered. There were more important matters to attend to.

The feral splashed through the water, searching. On account of his size he found Geralt quite easily, and though the giant witcher looked terrible, he was alive, too. Nadia breathed a sigh of relief. She had dared not think too much about the possibility that only she survived the crash, owing to the Life Gem’s immortality, but seeing Geralt okay convinced her straight away that everyone made it. As she looked around she spotted Link with his back against a barnacle-encrusted rock, then Mirage clinging to a bulbous, doofy-looking fish like a body pillow. To her surprise she then spotted Rika on her feet, Kamek in one arm and a normal-looking Junior in the other. “He’s okay!” Nadia breathed, delighted, as she splashed over. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Rika replied. “The deep sea’s my home, after all. Same for Bella.” She nodded in the direction of the Seaplane Tender, back to her full size with none of the pudge, currently cradling Sakura’s head against her chest as she waited for the street fighter to wake up. “How are you still standing, anyway? I saw you get hurled against a rock.”

“Can’t die,” Nadia told her rather casually, her headache making a lot of sense all of a sudden. “Not normally, anyway.” Spotting a pair of waving legs, she hurried over to help pull Blazermate out from where she’d stuck head-first in the muck. “Blaze!” she hailed once the Medabot had been extracted. “You scan for everyone, right? We gotta make sure everyone made it out!”

One person at a time, as heroes woke up from their trauma-induced stupor, the party grew larger. With Blazermate’s help they found Hatty, Mimi, and Bowser, although they couldn’t really retrieve the Koopa King from where he’d landed on the whale’s soft, cushy, and rather malodorous back. Unsurprisingly, he held Peach in his arms, unharmed except for the ruination of her regal garb. Of the baby behemoths, they found no sign, which left a taste in Nadia’s mouth even worse than the brine. When Rika found Ace, unconscious and shivering, Nadia rushed over. "Damn. Everyone's soaked. We need to get 'em warm and dry, before we freakin' die of exposure." When the lean feral proved too weak to carry Ace on account of his muscle, gear, and hardy constitution, she settled for pulling him out of the water by the armpits. But where could she go, with everything wet and gross?

The feral stalled, stuck at an impasse, until she heard a shout. “Over here!” Rika hailed, calling Nadia’s attention over to a rocky area next to a river running inland. A patch of large corals created an overhand that warded off the rain, providing enough shelter to create a makeshift campsite where everyone could be gathered.

Nadia hurried over, grateful to be out of the rainfall, and propped Ace against the coral. Since waterlogged driftwood wouldn’t catch fire even if Bowser was here to light it, she sat down and wriggled herself beneath Ace’s arm, trying to share her body heat. It was a standard and sensible practice, she knew, but that didn’t stop her cheeks reddening as she did it. She shared a silent glance with Bella, their situations none too different, and despite the slight embarrassment Nadia found herself smiling. Despite everything, after all, they’d made it. No matter how cold, wet, and hungry she felt, she couldn’t be miserable so long as she had her friends.

Still, looking out across the rocky island, she couldn’t take things too easy. The boss of the whole Deep Blue Seaside lurked somewhere on this island, but even more than that, she didn’t like the look of what lay before them. The river that flowed across the murky, corpse-littered beach and into the sea also led straight to what looked eerily like a village built amid the promontories of rock. The spine-chillingly unwholesome aspect of that place, however, filled her with dread, and she wanted nothing to do with it until everyone was ready for action once more.









Linkle’s impression of the goddess’ frugal living conditions turned out to be right on the money. Though the concept of a god’s dwelling place invoked images of white marble, gleaming gold, rich silks, and spacious interiors, this place was for all intents and purposes no more than an ordinary woodland hut, despite its reptilian overseer. Without grandeur or splendor of any kind, it seemed to be exactly the sort of shack one would expect the Witch of the Woods to have. In fact, it more suited an herbalist hermit than anything, since it lacked any black cats, crystal balls, crystal-tipped staves, or ghastly ingredients. A humble arrangement of woods, furs, and plants carefully harvested from the natural environment, it was the very picture of innocence, with only the leftovers from the brief and fruitless squabble to suggest that anything might be amiss. A search that lasted the better part of an hour turned up no safes, hidden compartments, secret buttons, telltale journals, or stashes of incriminating documents.

The young pair of investigators did, however, find a door in the basement that led to a rather expansive cellar. Less a man-made structure and more of a cave made more liveable by carpentry and a few amenities, it continued the trend established by the house proper in being pretty unremarkable, all things considered.



Nevertheless, it was in this cave that Albedo and Linkle began to discover interesting things other than roots, stems, bulbs, and herbs. Protruding from one wall was an enormous, gnarled tree root, and from it like curtains hung large masses of crystallized sap, so ruby-red that it could be mistaken for blood in the light of the candles and braziers that dotted the place. The existence of an odd workbench in the most ingredient-rich part of the cave, surrounded by racks of mosses, wild garlic, spider husks, and snakeskins, caught the Alchemist’s eye. To him it looked like nothing so much as an alchemy lab, remarkably similar to those in his own world except for the constitution of the table itself, and it was on top of that stand that his curiosity was rewarded. He discovered a pair of whalebone runes, a curious bone that smoldered with embers, a deep violet lotus, and . Other than that, the only other thing the pair really discovered was a big glass jar, about half as tall as they were, with a sad-looking grub inside. Nothing incriminating, or obviously related to the Stranger, presented itself--just as Freya told them.

After a few minutes of rummaging, during which he pocketed everything that looked useful, Albedo tracked down Linkle again. “It looks like the cave may go deeper, but the development stops in this room,” he told her. “We could continue our search farther in, but my guess is that the Witch is too smart to leave something that could work against her just lying around. Would you rather move on and pursue another source of knowledge?” He tried to gauge the sunlight filtering through the Witch’s house upstairs. “It must be close to noon. We could feasibly reach another point of interest before returning to Snowdin in the evening in search of the black-robed man.”