Silently, she drifted through the cold and the dark, hair billowing out around her like the graceful bell of a jellyfish. Ah, a jellyfish… no thought, no intent, just a peaceful existence of nothingness until stimuli provoked otherwise. Stimuli, like that horrible, terrible, beautiful song, calling out to her through void tides like it always had so long, long ago.

Long? Had it been long? How much everything had slipped past since it had last wrung its enchanting, ugly melody in her mind? A moment, a millennium? It reached out to her with loving, wretched hands, yearning to wrap her in its embrace yet again, and she so longed to reach out to it in turn, to lose herself in its discordant, miserable, wonderful glory…



A single whispered defiance cut through the aria, and her eyes snapped open, suddenly and irrevocably herself again. Of course, of course, “no”... how could she ever allow it to be otherwise? The very idea of the disappointment which must have been written across their faces if she did… Heh. “No.”

She turned her face upward, looking to that circling ring of light above her, and willed herself to move. Upward, upward, upward, she glided like a knife through the waves, urging herself to break the surface once more. There were things to be done, and this time they would be. They would be. The halo of sunlight drew closer, closer, closer, until she could reach out with her hand to touch it, pass through it, and then-

She burst out of the water, gasping in a long breath of air as she got shakily to her feet. She cast her gaze around, taking in the place she’d found herself in; a stone courtyard of some kind? Shops lay all around, bearing gaudy signs illuminated by some unknown sorcery. The square seemed to be bustling with people, enough to fill a town it seemed; some kind of festival? The more she looked, the more she saw. What she took as a square seemed to be more of an intersection - the shops with their glass storefronts, displaying all manner of treasures and incredible luxuries, stretched on in four cardinal directions, and that was but one of two distinct floors, capped by a ceiling of vaulted glass. Not a square then, but some kind of incredible trade center? How many kingdoms must be represented here?

“Mommy, why is that lady in the fountain?” A child’s voice caught her ear; a young girl it seemed, no more than four or five. She straightened, squaring her shoulders. This child was yet one example of all that stood to be lost if she failed.

She stepped over the small wall of the fountain she had risen out of, gesturing to herself with one hand and throwing the other wide. “Fret not, dear girl, for I am the Witch of the Waters, and I have come to defend you all from the evil which threatens this age!”

“Don’t stare, sweetie,” the girl’s mother chided gently, beginning to pull her away. “That nice lady’s just having a breakdown, it's none of our business.”

A breakdown?! What gall! The Witch of the Waters was no simple madwoman! Had truly so much time passed that even she had been forgotten? Then what of the great foe? Had he, too, fallen into obscurity? But if so, then… what manner of defenses must be in place to protect the people? If the warnings of his return had been lost, then…

She must move quickly.

“Bye, crazy lady!” the child called after her. “Good luck!”

“Thank you, child!” she called behind her, waving her arm in farewell. “I shall surely have need it!”

Mina leaned back on the back legs of her chair, strawberry frappuccino sitting half-forgotten on the patio table in front of her. She gestured vaguely with her hands as she spoke, in the way people did without realizing as if the motions somehow aided in the act of speech. Her hair spilled over the back of her chair despite the ends caught between it and her back, and one of her feet rested against the leg of the table, pushing on it slightly to rock her chair gently back and forth.

“Like what was she really expecting with that, you know?”

“Uh…”

“Like everyone already knew what was going on with her and Mackenzie and then she suddenly shows up after spring break with her hair dyed flamingo pink and she just expects no one to realize what happened?”

“Ah…”

It’s like who does she really think she’s fooling, you know?”

“Uhuh…”

“And you know they think they’re gonna be slick about it, acting like no one realizes. God, they’re so obnoxious, right? Like they’re so in-your-face about it, right?!”

“Um.” Mina’s increasingly reluctant conversation partner cleared his throat, raising one hand. “Mina, I uh. I mean, I’m really flattered you accepted my confession, and I’m happy you invited me out so quickly… Like, immediately…”

“Nn-hn. What about it?” Mina took a sip of her frappuccino, having recalled its presence in the brief gap where she wasn’t talking. It wasn’t really cold anymore, and the bottom of the cup seemed to just be strawberry juice at this point, but she didn’t seem to care.

The boy, Martin, cleared his throat again, seeming to wither under her gaze. “I mean, uh. I- I can’t help but wonder if you’re really just going to, um. Just uh… talk about them the whole time…?”

“Nn-hn,” Mina answered, with zero hesitation. She set her dissolved beverage back on the table. “You said you were interested in me, yeah? So you’re interested in what I have to say about stuff, yeah?”

Martin hesitated, his eyes dropping to the surface of the table beneath Mina’s sudden accusatory tone. “Yeah, of- of course I am, really!I just- its just. Different than I was expecting, is all…”

“So?” Mina’s eyes dragged themselves over to the street the cafe sat on, suddenly transfixed on the students walking home or crowding into the various stores and small restaurants lining it. “That’s just an issue with your own expectations, right?”

Martin’s mouth hung open for a moment, processing possible replies for a moment before he cleared his throat again with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Yeah, I uh. I suppose you’re right, sorry. Do you uh.. Do you mind if I go to the bathroom real quick?”

Mina grunted noncommittally, not bothering to look at the boy as he scurried away from their table. Honestly, the nerve of that guy! How could he talk about expectations when they’d never even spoken before? Unless they had. To be honest, she hadn’t even remembered the guy existed until he’d asked her to meet him behind the school. What a cliche, Mina was willing to bet the guy just stayed at home watching anime all day. She scowled at the handful of young couples she spotted holding hands as they passed. Honestly, just die already.

She sighed, and the front legs of her chair re-established contact with the ground. Mina slumped over the patio table, pushing the cup with her elbow as she rested her chin in her hand. She supposed she could try to be a bit nicer to the guy. She had absolutely no intention of maintaining this charade past today, but she may as well try to make the act convincing for now. There wouldn’t be much point to this otherwise, right?

Where was he, anyway? It had probably been like ten minutes or so, and Martin still wasn’t back yet. Was he constipated or something? Geez! Mina craned her neck over her shoulder, seeing if she could spot him, but no, nothing - actually, would she be able to spot him anyway? He didn’t exactly stand out. Seriously, what a bland guy. But still, where was he?!

Mina started to rise from the table, thinking she might just go get him from the bathroom herself, then froze when she spotted something on the street. A shock of bright pink hair, bobbing in the crowd.

Oh no! Oh no no no! Mina dove under the table; there was no way she was about to get caught alone. Ugh, stupid Martin and his digestive problems! Why did he think she even bothered to bring him here?! And he had the nerve to disappear before the most important part?!

She peeked out of her hiding place, tracking that stupid pink flag through the crowd. Ugh, and she had her groupies with her - what, was her boyfriend busy? She had to dust off those shrill little soccer club nobodies? Mina could almost swear she was being mocked right now.

Mina ducked back down under the table, sitting cross-legged while she waited for her adversary to pass. Forget being nice, she was gonna wring Martin’s stupid neck the next time she saw him. She sighed, head in her hand as she waited some minutes until the coast was clear, ignoring the occasional glance from passersby wondering what she was doing under the table.

Once she felt enough time had passed, Mina crawled out from under the table, stretching and dusting off the seat of her pants. Ugh, the cafe staff really needed to clean this patio better. She glanced around, but still saw no sign of Martin. Jerk. She grabbed her drink off the table and tossed it at the nearest trashcan like a baseball. Instead of going in, the cup rebounded off the rim, spilling all over the ground. Someone was playing a prank on her, they had to be.

The darkness was close, she could feel it; one of his servants must be nearby, and she would have to act quickly if they were to repel their machinations. The Witch of the Waters, stepped briskly down the street, her long hair sweeping over the concrete like a cloak. As she was now, after her long slumber, she did not think she would be able to repel them alone, yet she knew not where to find suitable warriors to stand in her stead.

Perhaps… Perhaps a summoning was in order. Draw strength from the past, to find and aid those with the capacity to act in the present. Yes, that would present a viable solution for now - though, how many would answer? And in her current state, how many could she really call forth? She supposed it would depend on how readily she could find a source of power to draw from, but aside from the fountain she’d found herself in, the Witch wasn’t sure of where she could look. A river, a lake, a pond - surely there must be some sizeable body of water to draw from, she could feel it.

This street she was on was lined with merchants and eateries, offering luxuries she had never seen before. Somehow, she could feel the flow of water all through this place, in a thousand tiny streams she couldn’t see. Were they buried in the ground, beneath the buildings? Perhaps. Even so, she may be able to call on their power to fuel her magic - she need only find a place strong enough to channel it, and then…

Yes, with the power on this street, she may be able to call forth some few warriors. Hardly a match for the armies the adversary would call to his will, but it would provide a starting point. It would be enough, for now. She would make sure of it.

That just left the question… from where would his servant launch an attack? And when?

---

---

The lights of the arcade cabinet reflected off his sunglasses, his hand flying across the buttons in impenetrable combo techniques that were probably just mindless button mashing. Sure he probably wasn’t that great, but did that matter? It was fun. It was a game, and he loved games. This one was something called a “fighting game”, which he thought was kind of funny. It had bright, flashing colors, and the characters looked cool. Not as cool as him, but still cool.

“Oi.”

He ignored the large man leaning against the wall next to him. He was totally about to wipe the floor with his opponent at the opposite cabinet, he didn’t have time to entertain his companion’s nagging. The man looked at him sidelong, crossing his arms.

“Ugh, piss off, man,” he groaned, waving the man away. “Can’t you see I’m busy right now? I can do it later, just let me- Agh!” He cried out in frustration as the words YOU LOSE flashed across his screen. “One more time!” he insisted, reaching into the pocket of his jorts for more coins.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to see a line had formed behind him without him noticing. He grimaced at each of the students behind him in turn, then looked back at his companion to see the large man smirking at him.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll do it. Man, what a pain.” He pushed past the line of arcade gamers, paying no mind to their shouts of indignation as he stepped on their feet or pushed them away, making his way back out onto the street outside.

He stretched and cracked his neck, casting his gaze around for somewhere suitable. “So many noisy kids here, geez,” he muttered, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jorts. He chose to ignore the look his companion gave him. There were a lot of birds on this street. Yeah, he supposed he could start here- at least he wouldn’t have to walk that far.

“Alright, I got this covered,” he said with a yawn. “You can piss off for now. You’re cramping my space.” The larger man crossed his arms again, each the size of a tree trunk. “Ugh, don’t give me that look!” he complained, kicking the man in the shin with the size of one flip flop-clad food. “I said I’d do it, so I’ll do it! Geez!”

“Dick,” he muttered, after his companion vanished. Now to find a quiet place to hang out and nap. Or uh, work.

"Who wants to bet my brother can't reach that window ledge? Any takers?"

Diarmi posed confidently, glancing upwards at the second-story window ledge his little sister had pointed to. Maybe three inches wide, a foot and a half long, set into the brick exterior of some deli he knew nothing about (though its broad windows certainly invited inspection).

Yeah. He could make that.

He stretched, feeling the familiar popping of bones shifting around their joints, as his little sister collected bets. Some were genuine, he knew, though others were 'betting' just for the pleasure of seeing him either fall flat on his face, or out of spite towards those people. Most people were betting against him, and Zola absolutely did not carry enough cash to pay out if he failed.

He couldn't fail. He wouldn't fail.

And when she said 'Dimi?', off he went. Personally, he thought leaping at the deli window without actually smacking into it was far more impressive than getting up to a second-story window, but that's not what the people were betting on, was it? Out of the corner of his eye, he could see someone, probably an employee, startle at his presence, but he refused to allow it to distract him. It took only a slight bend of the knee to launch himself up, grab the upper ledge, and twist his body to land above it. This next part would be tricky, but it was simple to him: just move quick enough and gravity would lag behind. His fingers, callused from hours of stunts like these, gripped onto the rough bricks and he skittered along the surface, grabbing the ledge from beneath, and pushing off the wall to flip up onto the ledge, where he turned and waved down to the crowd, in varying states of flabberghast (was that a word?), amusement, and awe. His parents, who'd been watching with only mild interest, gave a polite applause in contrast to the whoops and cheers from the crowd. Zola went among them to pay out the handful of winners. And in the back of the crowd, he could see his two oldest siblings moving about.

His stomach dropped, but his grin didn't. He stood, catching the top of the window, and bowed, encouraging their excitement and their attention on him. Better him than Zola, he'd decided all those months ago. Let her stay innocent in all this. He leaped off from the ledge, taking the second to pose in the air before landing in a tumble and springing back to his feet. The crowd went nuts - well, most. Some were beginning to leave, down the street or into the deli where he suspected they'd tell that poor employee about the stunt that weird kid had just pulled. While it wasn't like the family couldn't hold people captive, them leaving was never good. It meant less money, and, to his own disgust, fewer targets.

Not that such feelings showed on his face. Instead, he bowed and gestured to his parents - his mother had already drawn out the old in-desperate-need-of-a-polish fiddle to play, and his father was promising "magic like you've never seen before!"

Which, Diarmi supposed, was a fair claim to make. How often did money vanish from people's wallets anyways?

“Dad, I’m home!” Sam called into the house. Her voice echoed through the front room, past the kitchen, up the stairs, around the bedrooms, and finally bounced off the closed door of her father’s studio. A moment of silence in response let her know he was sealed in and busy with his latest project.

Sam sighed as she slipped her shoes off. If he’d been lost in his art all day, he probably hadn’t eaten again. Or taken the list Mom had left him and gone shopping. She carefully padded up the stairs to drop her bag off in her room, then made her way toward the closed door to his art studio.

“Dad?” she asked, not particularly loudly. No reply came. “I’m borrowing the car to run to the store, okay? I’ll have your card, too, so… Well, you can’t really leave if I have the car anyway, huh,” she mumbled quietly to herself as she turned away. She poked into her parents’ bedroom just far enough to grab his wallet and the car key off the dresser, then went back downstairs to grab Mom’s shopping list off the fridge.

The door opened just as she was slipping her shoes back on. Diana pushed her way in, volleyball bag in one arm and schoolbag in the other. Their eyes met, and the sisters shared a smile.

“Back early today?” Sam asked, tapping the heel on her sneaker to help it settle.

“A little. Coach said she was feeling unwell, so she cut practice short. Back late?”

“The festival planning meeting ran long. Dad’s not making a sound, so I’m running to the store. Go ahead and shower up; start on your homework, too. I’ll be back in half an hour or so to start dinner.”

“Thanks, Sam. Heard anything from Mom?”

“Nope. And you know what they say-”

“- ‘No news is good news.’ Yep. As long as nothing sudden appears to keep her at work.”

“Right? How hard can it be for a major headline to not happen in the next two hours?”

Diana slipped up the stairs and Sam stepped out the door. Dad’s car was parked in the driveway, a two-door compact that somehow still ran–largely on miracles and spite by now. He’d had the thing in college when he and Mom first started dating, for crying out loud. But for all Sam complained about the old thing, it got the job done. She liked that about it. With a rumble and sputter, she backed the car out the driveway, pushed in the clutch, and started into town.

The boy found a quiet spot, away from the crowds on the street, tucked away in the lot behind the stores. He sat on a pile of discarded pallets, humming softly to himself as he watched the crows and pigeons gather around him, drawn in by the millet bread in his hands. He tore it into small pieces, bit by bit, throwing them out to the birds just far enough to draw them in closer. He smiled as he listened to their chatter - their voices were familiar, their petty arguments as they squabbled for food endearing. He almost wished he could have more time to sit and chat with them, but alas.

”Kore kara oni no…” the boy sang softly to himself, tearing up the last of the bread. There was a good sized flock now, he thought. A dozen or so. Enough to get some work done. He crumpled the paper bag the bread had come in and tossed it over his shoulder, then rose slowly enough off the pallets that he didn’t startle the birds, his hand grabbing something next to him and bringing it with him. The charms hanging off the hilt of his sword clattered together faintly as he raised it in front of him.

“I hope you guys don’t hold this against me,” he said, almost sounding genuine. One of the phone charms started to glow ominously. “But I’m gonna have to put you to work for me, alright?”

---

Screams from the end of the street. People running, confusion and panic echoing through the air. Heads turn, drawn by the clamor, curious about what could be happening. A fight? An accident? Some begin to step toward it, wanting a closer look, only for eyes to widen in shock, legs rooted in fear. Monsters, like huge, humanoid birds begin to spill out from behind the shops down the road, pursuing the fleeing crowd.

They are clumsy, crashing into storefronts and flapping awkwardly through the air, like children struggling to adjust to take their first steps, but they’re learning quickly, getting faster, more agile with each moment. Some learn faster than others, sprinting on distended limbs after their victims while others swoop in from above, grabbing people off the streets and lifting off with them - or so it seems, but no. Their bodies fall to the floor, unresponsive, the creatures clutching some amorphous ball of violet energy in their clawed hands.

The Witch of the Waters waded through the crowd in long strides, hair flowing freely behind her like a cloak. They had moved quickly, much more quickly than she had expected - or perhaps she’d awoken much too late. No matter; she was here now, and that was all the difference. She squared her feet in the middle of the road, dark hair shining like gold as the early dusk light filtered through it. One of the creatures had knocked over a red cylinder on the roadside in its clumsiness, and pillars of water poured out of it. She smiled at her good fortune as she threw one arm out to the side, a gnarled coral staff coming quickly at her call. She raised it high over her head before her, the water filling the street circling gracefully around her as she did so, and the words came just as easily to her lips now as they had so long ago.

“Oh warriors of ages past, lost to time,” she intoned, her voice grandiose and beseeching. The water around her churned faster, more aggressively, rising around her like a curtain as she spoke. “Darkness encroaches, and the music of calamity sounds. I call to you who would stand as bulwark against the tide, to offer your strength to those with the will to fight. Rise now, and lend thy aid to those you deem worthy, that this world may yet be safeguarded from those who threaten it! Come!!”

Her staff struck the ground with a thunderous crack, the water around her bursting forth as the spirits within shot free, taking to the sky and rocketing in different directions. They moved too quickly for her to get a count - perhaps half a dozen, perhaps more. It would have to be enough.

She only hoped they weren’t picky.

What the hell? What the hell? What the hell? What the hell? What the hell was going on? People were running, screaming, some were lying in the street. Were they dead? Where did those monsters come from? What the hell was happening? Where was Martin? That bastard! He’d totally ditched her! Was he hiding? Should she hide? Where even would she?

“Gaaah!” Mina grabbed her head and mussed up her hair, trying to clear the questions racing through her mind as she crouched hidden behind decorative shrubbery. She looked down the street where the monsters were; her house was in that direction. Maybe if she could slip past? They looked distracted by the crowd, maybe if she was quiet it would be possible? She crouched low, casting a quick glance around before slipping out of the bushes. There weren’t a lot of places to use for cover, but if she kept close to the storefronts, maybe-

Nope! Nope nope nope! One of the creatures with a bug-eyed pigeon face lunged for her, and she broke into a sprint, getting out of the way just in time for it to slam head-first into the glass window. This was a terrible idea! She should not have done this! Maybe she could still get away and hide? Where? In a dumpster? Could she hide in a dumpster? How would she even get away?! They’d already spotted her!

Mina’s shoes pounded hard against the asphalt as she ran, lungs burning like fire in her chest. She had always slacked off in P.E., and now it was really starting to bite her in the ass. She still had her bag with her, and its weight was becoming harder and harder to ignore - ugh, why hadn’t she just dropped it yet?! Sure, it had her phone, and her wallet, and her- gaah, this didn’t matter, she should just-

One of the creatures let out a shriek in the air above her, and as if on instinct Mina spun on the ball of her foot while her arm swung around, slamming her bag against the side of its ugly crow face as it dove toward her. It went sprawling to the side and all her stuff went scattering across the ground after it as her bag tore open from the impact. Her eyes traced the path of her stuff as it fell; ugh, seriously, what the hell kind of a day was thi-

This… this was some kind of joke, right? It had to be. A weird street performance, or a nightmare, or- She swallowed hard, her eyes locked tight on the flash of pink hair across the street, cowering against a wall as a pair of creepy birdmen closed in on the girl. No, this- this was Mina’s chance, she could run while they were distracted, before that crow guy got back up, she could just turn and… and…

Why wouldn’t her legs move?

“Which way would you run, child?”

A voice spoke from nowhere, in some kind of European accent. “...What?” Mina’s mind felt heavy and sluggish.

“Would you flee, or save this girl?”
Everything felt like it was running in slow motion. Mina’s throat felt so, so dry. “I don’t- I don’t under-”

“Look with your eyes, child,” the voice reprimanded sharply. The enemy lies before you, threatening your people. You could flee for yourself, aye, but your soul balks at the idea, does it not? You wish for the will to act. To move, and show your strength. Is that not so?”

“I- I don’t know, I-” Her eyes were still fixed on that flash of pink. She was becoming vaguely aware that she was shaking.

“Would you like to find out?” There was a sword, now. A long hilt, suspended in the air unsupported. “If it is the courage to act you seek, child, accept my power and make it yours. Draw my blade, and step forward.”

This- this was crazy, right? She was crazy? There was no way any of this was happening. Did she get sucked into some kind of- of-

Clawed hands reached toward the girl by the wall in slow motion, inch by torturous inch. Mina didn’t think, couldn’t think. She saw the monsters about to grab that stupid pink soccer girl, pictured those bodies lying in the street-

The sword was lighter than Mina had expected. A zweihander, perhaps five or six feet in length - no, just over five feet, not quite longer than she was tall. It swung through the air like a guillotine, bisecting the creatures in the same instant she had stepped forward. Across the street in one step? Some kind of instant transmission ability, like in Dragonball? The creatures faded like smoke, without blood. Mina glanced down at the girl - at Tamaki. She looked back up at her, stupefied, unrecognizing. Panic maybe? Whatever.

“Run for safety!” she commanded, before the stupid b- before the girl realized who she was looking at. To Mina’s relief, Tamaki complied without hesitation.

Mina looked back down the street, toward the other monsters and their chaos. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and a quick glance revealed the visage of a silver-haired knight in a blue hood standing behind her, a large, empty scabbard slung over one shoulder.

“We have yet more to contend with, child,” the knight said. “Worry not the distance; simply step forward, and the wind will carry you forth. Now, go!”

Mina wasn’t sure exactly when she became this lady’s gofer, or when exactly her clothes had changed, but in for a penny, she supposed. She turned her face forward, gripping the sword firm in both hands. May as well see how long this lasted. “Right then!” she announced, and stepped forward once more.

The typical grocery store was two minutes away from Sam’s house. Their neighbors could walk to it and back comfortably, as long as they didn’t have long shopping lists. Unfortunately, Sam’s family just couldn’t be ‘typical.’ Her dad had jumped into the health food bandwagon before it was even finished being built, and he’d never gotten off. If she was going to bring groceries back for the family, it had to have good ol’ TJ’s brand on it.

That store was close to ten minutes into the city, well outside their quiet residential district. Thankfully it wasn’t a big store, so grabbing everything on Mom’s list (plus the garlic and basil that had run out without Mom noticing) took all of five minutes. Sam was out the door with her purchases and heading back toward her car when the first screams started.

First one person, then three, then a dozen came sprinting around the corner, fleeing like chickens from a fox. Sam had to jump aside to keep from being run over by the terrified crowd, her eyes shooting up in the hope of seeing what had everyone so spooked.

A giant, malformed pigeon shot out from the adjoining street, crashing into a man and driving his body to the ground. When the abomination pulled itself up, the man didn’t move.

Cold panic shot through Samantha’s veins. A hundred people were running past her, away from the nightmare come alive. Men and women, shoppers and workers, from middle school to middle age, everyone was running. Everyone who wasn’t already lying still on the pavement, at least.

‘The hell?’

Partly, she was guessing where these monsters could have come from. Partly, she was angry at the entire damn populace. Her sister was at home working hard, waiting for her to get these groceries back so she could eat a decent meal after a hard day of practice on what had been a day off for all these people. And now she was going to be late.

The pigeon turned toward her. Maybe not her specifically, but it was chasing the crowd that was even now flowing past her.

Samantha dashed to her car, dove behind it, and threw her bags into the passenger seat. As soon as her hands were free, she was pulling her phone out to dial the emergency line. She was already planning how to report this in her mind--and her fingers stopped when she realized it would come out as, “Please help, bird-monsters are killing people.”

‘Proof first, then?’ she decided. Carefully, Sam peeked out from behind her car.

The pigeon-thing crashed into the next car over, pecking at the roof to try to get at the person inside. Sam flinched, but lifted her phone with shaky hands to snap a picture.

Then a man in full-native cosplay jumped at the monster, tomahawk swinging down viciously. Sam’s eyes shot open--then even wider when the man’s tomahawk, and then the man himself, fell right through the bird. He picked himself up with a huff, then cast his glance around until their eyes met.

A shiver ran through Samantha’s entire body. This was going to be trouble, she already knew it.

In a blink the man was beside her. “You would fight?” he demanded, holding out his tomahawk.

Sam shook her head. The dude may be a ghost, and ghosts can’t die; but she had no such insurance. She had seen the body earlier.

He frowned beneath his wolf-pelt hat. “You would die, then?”

Sam shook her head even harder. The whole point was to not die right now. That pigeon that was raising a racket a second ago would… Why was it quiet?

“Choose. Fight, or die?”

Instinct drove Sam as much as the question did. She jumped forward, one hand closing around the tomahawk’s shaft and the other reaching toward the man’s shoulder, just as the pigeon’s beak came down on the cement behind her. The man was just as ephemeral as when he struck the monster; but the weapon she felt, the shaft firm in her hand. As she passed through him, she tucked herself into a forward roll, feeling the hard pavement against bare shoulders and back before coming up on her feet.

She turned to face the monster, weapon in hand. The tomahawk was gone; instead she held a sword, the blade slightly curved at the end, in both hands. Two beast-hide gloves wrapped partway up her forearms, ending to reveal a series of tattoos adorning the rest of her arms. A sudden weight around her hips told her she was wearing pants with a belt, and several things were tied onto it. Red hair the color of autumn leaves blew out behind her.

All of this Sam didn’t have time to think about. The bird-person-thing was flapping its arm-wings, kicking up air and preparing to lunge at her. Sam lunged first, her blade slicing forward into the creature. She felt the weapon connect; then the monstrosity vanished like smoke, wisping away into the air.

“We fight,” came the man’s satisfied voice from behind her.

Sam spun around. “Yes, I fought the thing. With… whatever all this is. Where did this sword even-”

“No. We fight.” The man pointed back up the street. Two more of the abominations had come out from the adjoining street, their heads twisting left and right to find the prey that had fled ahead of them.

Sam stared at the creatures, stunned. “Okay, seriously, what the hell?”

“We fight,” the crazy warrior reiterated. The mutated pigeons had found the people fleeing further down the street and were taking wing, eager to take more lives.

“Fine! But AS we fight, can you please tell me what’s happening?!” Sam screamed as she ran into the street between the two parties, sword up and ready.

His parent were halfway through what Diarmi had nicknamed ‘the Conjuring set’ (a nickname which had gotten some disapproval from his older siblings until they learned he knew nothing about the film at which point the discussion had shifted to how were they going to get him caught up on pop culture and how much of his ignorance was due to the family constantly traveling and how much was due to him reading comic books ragged instead of doing anything else) when everything went sideways. His first thought at the scream was that Alessa and Loris had been seen with their hands where they shouldn’t have been, and he needed to get Zola back away from the crowd before she heard anything. He moved to grab her shoulder when he realized the shriek had come from further down the road. So good news, his family had nothing to do with that. Bad news, what in the hell of hells was going on?

It was like something out of one of his comic books, the older ones. Everything was normal and then, next panel, people were being attacked by aliens. Well, maybe that was what was happening too? They looked more like someone had managed to stretch pigeons over human skeletons and then sharpened everything for good measure, but it wasn’t like he knew what aliens looked like. Of course, more likely than an alien invasion was that he was daydreaming again, but a pinch to his upper arm and the fact that everyone was now visibly moving away from the bird-things suggested this was incorrect. His brain felt like it was working at lightning speed as he watched them attacking people, leaving them unconscious – or dead? He couldn’t tell this far away, but he’d seen enough.

“We need to go.” He grabbed Zola and pushed her towards their mother, who picked her up handily and bolted, fiddle set down in favor of her child. Alessa and Loris were nowhere to be seen, meaning they’d probably bolted too. His dad was packing up the few props and fiddle before he’d take Diarmi by the hand and get them both away too. That felt wrong, though. Diarmi glanced down the street again. He already looked the other way with what his family did. No one got hurt, he told himself, so it was okay to look away.

Well, now people were getting hurt. And he was going to look away again.

He more felt his hands tighten into fists than made the decision to do so. He couldn’t turn away from this, not if he could do something, anything to help. He bolted down the street towards the bird-like monsters, ignoring his father crying his name in shock and horror. One bird monster was swooping down on a young woman, and her scream rang in his ears. Okay, first person to help. He jumped at a building's side for some height, pushed off for momentum, moved to swing his fist-

And the bird beast, turning likely out of curiosity to the movement in its peripheral vision, smacked Diarmi out of the air with a wing and no effort.

Diarmi tumbled along the ground, groaning as he skidded to a stop. He was almost certain the right side of his face was scraped up - yup, that was a tear in his pants, Mom was going to kill him - he was pretty sure that was road rash on his left forearm - all in all, a failure. He glanced back to see the bird monster taking off with... something, and the young woman lying disturbingly still on the sidewalk. His eyes watered, and he tried telling himself it was from pain.

"Even if you had landed the blow, you would've been more likely to break a bone of your own." The deep rumbling voice was foreign to Diarmi, with an accent he didn't recognize. He wiped at his face before looking at the person who spoke - to no avail.

"Um."

"It's not how you should shape your hand when you land such a blow. Even then, the sheer force could have knocked bones out of place." Whoever the voice belonged to, they sounded old - not grandparent old, more like old recordings. They also sounded knowledgeable. The world seemed to slow down for Diarmi.

"Can you show me?"

"Hm?"

"Show me." Diarmi staggered to his feet. "I wanna do it right."

"Child, this will be a war, not a single battle I have been summoned for. I have seen boys your age die, bleeding out from grievous wounds-"

"I'll do better, I promise! I - just let me help people for once." Diarmi flinched as his voice cracked mid-sentence. That probably wasn't going to help prove he wasn't a 'boy' that the speaker needed to worry over. The resulting silence seemed interminable.

"...I see. If I cannot dissuade you-"

That was when the axe materialized before Diarmi. Well, he called it an 'axe', though one side was heavy and blunt while the other curved sharply and wickedly. "-then may we fight together and enter Valhalla together." Oh, hey, Diarmi recognized that reference. It would be nice if the voice was more positive, but he decided it didn't matter. Instead, he took the axe and felt the energy flow into him. Something about himself - no, about the whole world shifted six inches right. The axe weighed lightly in his hand now. He looked up to the bird still flying away, and already he knew what to do. The voice's eye seemed to somehow overlay his, and he could see if he threw it at this angle, with this force, it should land in an area of road safely without risk to others. That worked for him - them, he supposed, he wasn't exactly alone in this. He flung the axe, watching it smash the bird and reduce it to smoke, and then ran forward to catch whatever it was it had taken from the young woman. Or to retrieve the axe. Maybe it'd be magical and fly right back to her, but no point risking that, right?

Ugh, she was sweating! Well, not really, but she felt like she should be sweating, and that was just as bad! How many more of these bird things were there?! Well, actually, looking around, there weren’t really that many, maybe over a dozen? Wait, that was a lot, right? Or not really? They didn’t seem that tough now that she thought about it, raising her sword out of a cloud of smoke that used to be one of them. Maybe she was just really strong? Wasn’t she kind of awesome? Like, she had knocked that one crow guy out with her backpack. He’d gotten up after, but still. Wasn’t she just a total badass?

“Don’t get complacent,” the knight woman rebuked, knocking Mina out of her own head. Turning her head to look at the woman was weird. It was like she was there, but not. Was she a ghost? Was she possessed? “Focus, girl!”

Oh. Right. Mina turned her eyes back to the front, bringing her zweihander up just in time to block a downward swipe from one of the birdmen. She stepped forward, turning her block into a sideways slash and carving a line across the monster’s chest, turning it into yet another dissipating cloud of smoke. What were these things even made out of? Were they toxic? She wasn’t gonna get mesothelioma from breathing this stuff in, right? She wasn’t sure how she’d collect financial compensation from this if she did. She put one armored hand over her nose and mouth, just in case.

Mina looked around the street, taking stock of the situation. There were fewer bird people around now, and most of those that were left seemed to have split their focus between the fleeing civilians and… wait, were those other fighters? She wasn’t the only one? She didn’t even have to be doing this?! Ugh! Mina wished she’d noticed them before getting herself drafted into this mess. She saw some guy with a giant viking axe bring down one of the pigeon dudes that had snatched some of that weird purple stuff. What even was that? Mina watched it snake along the ground after its courier turned to smoke, like some kind of will o’ wisp. It moved kind of sluggishly, coming to hover over the body of some guy before slowly sinking into him.

“I see…” the knight lady mused quietly. Mina didn’t think she saw anything, and was just trying to sound smart. A lot of people did that, in her experience. “New plan, girl,” the woman spoke again, the feel of her hand pressing against Mina’s shoulder. “Focus on the ones carrying the violet energy. Perhaps if it is returned to its origin, these people will recover.”

“Really?” Mina asked skeptically. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t,” The knight replied simply. “ But that's all we can hope for for now.”

“What about the ones that are already gone, then?” Mina pressed, planting the tip of her sword in the street and crossing her arms.

The knight was silent for a moment, apparently in thought. “If these creatures are collecting this energy, they are likely bringing it somewhere,” she answered finally. “If we find where they’re holding it, we can retrieve what’s been taken.”

“Well then, how do we do that?”

“Must you question everything?” the knight snapped at her. “Just act. It must be nearby, else you would have spotted the creatures flying afield, yes? Start your search where they’re densest, or perhaps follow those you see bearing the energy in their arms. This is not a difficult conundrum to solve, girl.”

Mina bristled at the reprimand, but pulled her sword free from the ground anyway. She lifted it up onto her shoulder, glancing around for where the monsters were most concentrated. She began to step forward, then hesitated and turned to look for the other two fighter’s she’d seen. “Hey!” she called out, before she’d found either of them again. Oh, there they were. Actually, would they even be able to hear her? Oh well.

“Hey! Try and see if you can find something they’re bringing that purple stuff to!” she pointed her sword at the monsters, as if they could be confused about who she was possibly referring to.

The second mutant puffed away into nothing. Sam took a deep breath as she lifted her sword again. There was one bird-thing left in front of her, but it was being more careful than the others had been. Its head cocked to one side, far enough Sam felt like her own was going to crack, and watched her curiously.

“Look, can you explain now?” Sam begged the bare-chested warrior.

“Hm. That weapon you hold…” he started slowly. Sam nodded along, not taking her eyes off the monster before her. Right, what was this weapon? “...it’s a blade. You swing it like a club.”

Sam staggered, narrowly avoiding face-planting. “Well gee, thanks! I hadn’t realized! It’s not like this is the first time I’ve ever used a sword or anything!”

The pigeon rushed forward while Sam was distracted. She cursed and dove beneath its attack, narrowly avoiding a beak, but couldn’t bring her weapon to bear in time to counterattack. The creature was over her then, and it decided to keep going after far easier prey. Sam cursed again, jumping up to give chase.

“Then don’t use it. Put away the blade. Use the claws.”

“The what?”

“Put away the blade.”

Sam grunted in frustration, but she did as instructed. She grabbed the sheath tied to her belt and slid the sword into it. Then she looked to her other side, where a pair of bear claws hung. “You mean these? How do I use stuffed bear claws?”

“Put them on.”

“How do I put them on?!” The things were stuffed! Solid! Not gloves!

“Pick them up. Don them. You can do it. You haven’t struggled with the pants, you can handle the claws.”

“What about my-” Sam began, but then she saw what she was wearing. She’d missed it in the moment–fighting giant mutant pigeons takes a lot of focus from other things–but she wasn’t wearing her casual skirt and jacket anymore. Her chest was wrapped in a piece of brown leather that didn’t come close to her shoulders or navel; and her legs were covered by the baggiest set of pants she had ever seen. It was only by pure magic they weren’t already around her ankles; the material maintained at best two points of contact with her skin, and usually only kept one.

The sight was so unnerving, she stopped running for a moment. With how loose the trousers were, she could see none of what she was wearing was what she had put on that morning. These were an attractive red, not the plain white her drawer was filled with.

A renewed bout of screaming forced Sam to look up and start running again. The monster had grabbed someone as she stepped out of a shop. It took… something out of her, a purplish, glowy ball that definitely wasn’t a person’s soul, and left her body to flop to the ground.

“Claws!” the warrior ordered. Sam ground her teeth, but without any time to spare she just grabbed the claws and yanked them off her belt.

And suddenly her hands were a pair of bear claws.

The pigeonman took wing and flapped over Sam’s head, moving back to the street it had come from. Sam pivoted as well, chasing after the monster. Her new paws left her feeling unbalanced, but she wasn’t about to let the thing get away with…whatever it was trying to get away with.

Unfortunately, one more hopped around the corner to block her as the monster with the definitely not a soul fled.

“NO! YOU! DON’T!” Sam screamed, launching herself at the new enemy and swinging her giant claws down on it. She felt it resist for a fraction of a moment, before it wisped away in a puff of smoke.

“Like a club,” her partner nodded sagely. “Much better for you.”

“Not helping! Where did-”

And now that Sam was around the corner, she saw more costumed crazies cutting down the creatures. Closest to her was the world’s smallest viking, and further down the street was a miniature Joan of Arc. And the monster she was pursuing was carefully flying above both.

“Hey! Try and see if you can find something they’re bringing that purple stuff to!” little Joan called out. Sam did a double-take as the girl then lifted a sword bigger than she was and moved. It wasn’t like a teleport, or vanishing; Sam could see her go from point A to point B. She just did so…instantly. Like space had bent for her so she wouldn’t lose time.

“Sure! That one has a ‘purple stuff’ with it!” Sam shouted back, pointing at the creature quickly moving toward the other end of the street. Now that it was past the others, it was descending and glancing around in search of something. “Grab it, I’ll handle the ones still out here!”

Diarmi knew he'd been quick enough - he hadn't been granted superspeed by any means, but the horizontal distance hadn't been that large either - and he knew he'd stood in the right spot, because, technically, the purple substance HAD landed in his hands. It was just that it ran through his fingers like water. Like warm, viscous, colored water.

More like blood, really.

Diarmi had never understood the cliche of "a shiver running down your spine" before that moment, but that sudden connection forced understanding on him. It didn't help that it wasn't clear if the bird monster had killed that lady or not, and if it had, what good had felling it done? What was-

He was disrupted from his spiraling thoughts by the pressure of a hand on his shoulder, extending from a bare, muscular, translucent arm. "Look," the disembodied-no-longer voice said, now coming from a young man with a serious-looking gash across his stomach, barely covered by a bear's pelt (that, Diarmi realized, looked an awful lot like the one now slung over his own shoulder). He pulled himself out of his thoughts to observe the purple energy snaking about just above the asphalt and dive into - a man. Huh. Hopefully that stuff was interchangeable. More notably, it was now clear somehow that the man was alive. He couldn't put his finger on it - the man didn't have color return to his cheeks, it wasn't like he was now heaving for breath, he still wasn't moving. It was just that sort of instinct, the kind that told people whether or not they were looking at a corpse, and Diarmi knew he was not looking at a corpse. Good. He ran to retrieve his ax and quickly moved to cover for a fleeing civilian, wondering if he could throw his ax in such a way that it'd return to his hand.

"-y!"

"Hrm?" The ghostly young man seemed curious about the cry, taking Diarmi's attention with him. Diarmi didn't regret looking - there was another fighter! She carried with her a massive sword, dressed more for battle than Diarmi - well, had been. He hadn't paid much attention to his own outfit change. (He missed his jacket and scarf, sure, but the bearskin was pretty awesome now that he reflected on it.) Wait, she was still speaking.

“Hey! Try and see if you can find something they’re bringing that purple stuff to!”

“Sure! That one has a ‘purple stuff’ with it!” And another voice! Diarmi turned to see another fighter! And she was fighting with her bear hands. She was gesturing upwards, further down the road - ah, right, yeah. Still fighting. Be starstruck later.

"I got it!" He didn't have the quickstep the first fighter seemed to have (superspeed? Some kind of variation on that?), but he wasn't slow to begin with, and he could spare the energy. Besides, he was still trying to figure out if he could throw the ax like a boomerang, and that seemed to distress the injured spirit so maybe focusing on something else would be a good idea. He left the road, going up the sidewalk and up the buildings alongside it to keep from tripping over bird-monsters and Schrodinger's corpses. He made a mental note: this whole deal seemed to have afforded him some more stamina. Neat.

He perched on a building's ledge (if you could call that 2-inch-wide molding between stories a 'ledge'), watching the bird-monster to see where it was going. One hand clung to the corner of the building for balance as he crouched, trying to get a tiny bit closer to see and hear better, while the other clutched at the ax he'd been given. Several other bird-monsters had come this way as well. Oh, man, how many had there been? How in the world were three of them meant to clean all this up?

"This all feels familiar." Once again, the spirit knocked Diarmi from his spiraling. He kept quiet, though, doubting he had any way to speak with the spirit that couldn't be overheard. "I've done this before. Not this specifically, but fighting a battle like this. I think I recall it ending well, at least." Well, that was a surprisingly uplifting sentiment.

"Thanks, ghost," Diarmi whispered back.

"My name is Agmundr. Kindly try to remember it." Diarmi simply nodded in response, preparing to move with the bird monsters.

The pigeon-faced monster clutching the ball of purple energy landed on the street, spinning its head this way and that while its walnut brain burned black trying to remember where it was supposed to go. Another one with a crow's head swooped down behind it, smacking its fellow upside the head with one clawed hand and scolding it with loud, angry caws. The pair bickered in the street, the pigeonhead nearly dropping its cargo in the scuffle, before the crowhead finally won out, forcing the stupider of the two to head in the right direction.

It fluttered clumsily down a separate street before turning into an alley leading behind the storefronts. This area would ordinarily be used as a loading zone for product delivery or staff smoke breaks, but now it lay eerily silent, its only visitors the bird-headed aberrations attacking the neighborhood. Sitting in the center of the lot, out of place in both location and time, sat a large pithos urn, glowing unnaturally from inside. The monster approached the vessel with its loot, holding it at nearly eye level to clear the rim of the five-foot urn.

Footsteps drew the pigeonhead’s attention back toward the entrance of the lot. It had been followed? It was so clever and careful though. What trickery they must possess! It squawked loudly, flapping its wings hard enough to kick up the dust around it as it forgot all about what it was supposed to be carrying and got ready to attack.

“What the hell are you doing, idiot? Don’t drop the anima.”

The pigeonhead started at the sudden rebuke, scrambling to catch the ball of energy before it hit the ground. Mina looked to see where the voice came from, resting her sword back on her shoulder. Halfway down the lot squatting on the edge of the roof above them was a young man who seemed to be about their age - Mina assumed the viking guy was around her same age, anyway. He wore beach sandals and jorts, and a tacky neon green and yellow windbreaker left unzipped to show off the mesh crop top underneath. Around his neck he wore a sharktooth necklace and a plain iron crucifix like she vaguely remembered being fashionable when her mom was in high school. A piercing glinted in his navel, and two more at the end of his right eyebrow. When he spoke an additional piercing could be glimpsed on his tongue, and his hair, though bleached aside from the roots, had been anachronistically tied in a traditional Japanese topknot. His right hand rested on a katana which he used to support himself as he squatted on the roof, and the trio of phone charms he’d tied to the hilt - a dog, a bird, and a monkey - clattered lightly against each other in the breeze.

“Two… no, I can still here someone fighting,” he mused to himself, looking up at the sky thoughtfully as he did his mental arithmetic. “At least three of you, then? Man, how annoying.”

“At least three of you, then? Man, how annoying.”

"Thanks, I get that a lot." Diarmi didn't even sound sarcastic, clambering to the top of the building he'd been clinging to. The other rooftop wasn't far at all, and the only other way to reach him felt a bit too much (like, ok, maybe it was a matter of 'hey that guy's human-shaped. that feels like murder' and maybe that wasn't entirely fair considering Diarmi had no issue swinging the ax through the bird-monsters, but flinging the ax at him just felt wrong). He crossed the gap to the next building with ease and took a moment to survey the gap between the current rooftop and the next, where the stranger stood.

"We'll be better when we can be face to face. Think we can put him to sleep." Agmundr sounded thoughtful, likely surveying the situation alongside the still-living boy. "Though there's a lot to be said for the element of surprise." Diarmi would've shrugged, if it wouldn't look like to everyone else he was shrugging at nothing. He was best at being the center of attention And it'd be wise to make the most of this chance.

"So, the purple stuff's anime?" he asked, purposefully mispronouncing the word in hopes of activating the man's "well actually" mode - the way people got when they knew better than you and you were so ignorant that it somehow managed to hurt them. "It's interchangeable, right? Because I saw some get scooped out of a woman and get put back in a guy when I axed one of your bird-people, let me tell you." He tried to casually swing the ax, nearly dropped it, and hoped the action went unnoticed. And also hoped that the knight-girl was doing something with the vase, and that he was holding the guy's attention successfully. "Those aren't the best you got, right?" The second the words exited his mouth, he regretted them - he'd read enough comics to know that only encouraged the bad guy to do something worse. Uh, salvaging, while he waited for Agmundr to tell him how to actually throw a punch so he could knock the guy out. "Because they're way too good for you, really."

Yup. Nailed it.

"If you're done chatting with the enemy, check your other hand," Agmundr said. Diarmi tried to shrug casually to steal a glance.

"I mean, that hair and outfit? Come on." He still had the ax, unchanged, in his left hand, but in his right hand were now... grains? He closed his fingers over them as he let his arms drop, fingers closing over the grains. They felt more like flour than sand.

"Those should incapacitate him." Oh, heck yeah. No cracking bones here, he wasn't quite ready for that.

"But, anyways, so if you-" Diarmi cut himself off, taking the long-planned (by his standards) jump and flinging the spores at the stranger.

What the hell was happening?

Kagura was currently taking shelter behind a dumpster, at the end of an alley. She had been with her friends, it had been an ordinary day. But as soon as the screaming started, and the bird creatures swarmed the streets, she remembered very little. It was chaos. She remembered running. She saw people in front of her get knocked down by the monsters and not get back up. She had no time to think about that. She ran right past them. She lost track of how many twists and turns she had taken. She didn't even know if she'd been actively chased or not. All she could think about was getting to safety.

So now here she was, having hit a dead end, now hiding behind a dumpster. She felt so powerless. She was such a coward. There were people out there who needed help. But she was too...

"Are ye scared?"

Kagura looked to her left, to see a lady in a white frilly ghile shirt and a brown waistcoat, with beige breeches and knee-length black boots. She was resting with both her feet up, and a tricorn hat pulled over her eyes. Her hair was long, with the color and appearance of staw. She stood up and readjusted her hat.

"Still, young lass, ye should probably get out of 'ere. This is not a good place to face monsters. Follow."

Kagura found it bizarre there was a woman dressed in a pirate costume, talking like a pirate, but she was desparate for any help she could get, so she listened. Then, something bizarre happened; the woman phased right through a door. Kagura stared in disbelief, before she called out from the other side.

"Lock's fair old! Just give 'er a few bashes!"

Kagura looked back to the main street, to see that two of the bird monsters were at the other end, and they'd seen her. They started running down the alley, straight at her. Kagura, in desperation, shoulder barged the door with all her strength and sure enough, it gave way. The pirate lady grinned, before racing up the stairwell. Kagura followed.

She now found herself on a roof, with no way off or back down, and she could hear the birds shrieking and flapping at the bottom of the stairwell. She turned back to the Pirate.

"We're trapped up here!"

"Nah!" Replied her guide. "This is just a more advantageous place for us to fight them! Look up!"

Kagura looked up at the sky, and to her surprise a small yet very dark storm cloud was gathering directly above her.

"Now," continued the woman. "Pull the Storm down to us."

It was a very strange, nonsensical phrase, but for some reason, Kagura knew exactly what she meant...almost like....she could feel the lightning. Like it was part of her already. "Am I dreaming?" she whispered to herself, before she reached up with her hand, and then, using her instict, willed the lightning to her.

The lightning striking the building could be seen and heard the entire surrounding mile around, as could the dark cloud immediately disippating. Back on the rooftop, Kagura found that she was now wearing yellow knee length boots not dissimilar to the lady's, a yellow skirt, a white corset with red lace, and over that, a yellow sil longcoat with bright, round brass buttons. Her hair was now also tied up with a ribbon. The most noticeable addition, though, was there was now a cutlass in her hand.

At that moment, the two birds finally reached the roof and charged Kagura. Her eyes narrowed and she strode cocksure towards them, slightly drunk off the power she now felt. She dispatched them with one slice each, before turning back to the Pirate, who was grinning.

"Aye, we'll need to teach you how to fight, lass, but you've got the spirit. Now, we just got to find who's in charge o' these birds."

“So the purple stuff’s anime?”

“Sure.”

"It's interchangeable, right? Because I saw some get scooped out of a woman and get put back in a guy when I axed one of your bird-people, let me tell you."

The boy clicked his tongue, watching the viking almost fumble his weapon. Mina stood spectating from the entrance of the lot, trying to figure out what this guy was trying to accomplish. He probably had some kind of plan, right? She felt like she should probably just leave it to him if so.

“Probably?” The boy answered with a shrug. Everything about his tone and posture conveyed a sense of “ugh, what a drag.” Mina could relate. He waved his hand dismissively. “Of course those aren’t the best I-”

“Because they’re way too good for you, really.”

”Excuse me?”

The boy rose to his feet, his eyes like daggers. His right hand gripped around the scabbard of his katana, tight enough to blanch his knuckles white. “Reconsider your words carefully, boy. If you had any idea who you were speaking to-”

“He’s distracted,” the knight whispered in Mina’s ear. She almost jumped at the unexpected voice, nearly giving herself whiplash with the effort it took not to look around. “Look for the ideal moment, then act quickly.”

"I mean, that hair and outfit? Come on."

The boy was visibly shaking with rage, teeth bared like fangs and face turning chili-pepper red. His left hand flew to the hilt of his sword, muscles bulging and the tiles under his feet becoming cracked and splintered. “You… you… you…!!”

He shot from the roof like a bullet, lunging for the viking in the same instant he began to draw his sword. His face contorted with feral rage was replaced with dull surprise however as a lightning bolt lit up the sky, drawing his gaze off to the side mid-leap. The viking threw his hand out, a cloud of something Mina couldn’t identify flying from his hand and catching the katana boy full in the face.

“Now, girl!” the knight commanded, pressing a hand against her shoulder.

“R-right!” Mina had nearly forgotten what she was supposed to be doing, distracted by the sudden flash of lightning from an otherwise clear sky just as the boy had been. She stepped toward the pigeonhead and the urn, sailing across the lot in the same instant. She thrust with her blade as she did so, skewering through the monster and the pithos in the instant the boy went tumbling across the roof, coughing and trying to get back to his feet.

“Y-you…! You…!” The boy shook his head, trying to clear his mind and regain focus, but to no avail as his body became more and more lethargic. His sword fell from his grasp, and with a final splutter of curses and growls, his body hit the rooftop, dead asleep.

Mina bounced from foot to foot, trying to avoid the anima spilling out of the broken urn as if it were dirty water. It flowed over the ground, hovering ever so slightly in the air as it trailed its way back out to the street, seeking to return to physical form. Out in the neighborhood proper, the remaining monsters began to bulge and bubble before finally bursting into the same smoke as their former fellows. The clouds of smoke from where the creatures had fallen throughout the battle began to coalesce on themselves, becoming denser before finally reforming into a flock of very confused crows and pigeons.

A silence fell following the chaos, before those who had hidden began to finally creep back out to the street. A few of the fallen, restored sooner than the others, began to stir and rise, rubbing their eyes as if they had just awoken from a nap. The Witch of the Waters stood in the street, a smile playing on her lips as she hugged her staff to herself. This had ended far faster than she had anticipated; the warriors had chosen well, it seemed.

Her role in the event was not yet over, however; raising her staff into the air, she called the water from the broken hydrant to her once more, sending it up into the sky to form a great cloud over the neighborhood. A brief moment passed in quiet expectation, then, one drop at a time, a rain started to drizzle over the area, lightly dampening everyone caught in the chaos. For the Witch’s summoned warriors and their chosen, it was just an ordinary drizzle, but for the others gathered it would gently dull the memory of the afternoon, allowing them to resume their ordinary lives without fear or panic.

With that completed, the Witch let her staff turn back into a puddle of water before turning to the fire hydrant and offering it a small bow in thanks for its assistance before stepping off the road and back onto the sidewalk. What a useful tool it had been!

Diarmi, a bit too focused with the sword flying at his face, had managed to miss the moment of the lightning bolt - not its existence, fully, something else had distacted katana-guy after all, but he hadn't seen what it was. A blade being pulled with the intention of cutting off one's face had a way of focusing one's attention like that. He practically held his breath as the spores began to take effect, making the young man stumble and swap. When he finally collapsed, Diarmi was quick to catch him before he cracked his head on the rooftop, then finished setting him down.

Well. Best to disarm him. As he grabbed at the katana's sheath, he asked aloud, "So what was that?"

"The spores of a mushroom from my time. They have magical effects."

"They do?" The sheath came loose with another tug. Diarmi thought about it, and then fiddled with the necklaces around the young man's throat. Hey, something let him summon and control those bird-monsters. He didn't know what, but magic charm or magic sword seemed like the best bet, and he wasn't sure what was enchanted.

"Yes. For some, the mushrooms force them to sleep. For others, they bring them into the berserker's rage."

"They what?" Diarmi's voice cracked. "I coulda had that guy go into a fit of rage at me? He was kinda already in one!" Rage squared, he supposed. But that was beside the point.

"Hardly. But, I will tell you, a berserker is immune to the power of metal and fire. Unless he used his sword like a club, he would not have been able to harm you."

Oh, this was not a train of thought Diarmi had ever anticipated. But here he was, wondering at what point being bludgeoned would be worse than being sliced or pierced. Maybe it was best to let that train go on its own, and he'd re-board it later, figure out the answer. For now, a drizzle had started and he'd heard the sound of broken pottery. The katana and possible charms secured on his person, he jumped, caught a lamp post, and slid downwards. Thank god(s?) he wasn't climbing up in the rain.

"Hey, hey, that was awesome!" He ran towards the knight girl, holding his hand up for a high five. "We gotta check on bear-hand lady, I know, but-?" He gestured with his free hand. "High five?"

Just as Sam was rushing the next monster, it burst into smoke on its own. She glared at the haze skeptically, trying to figure out what the trick was–until it reformed as an ordinary pigeon. The girl’s skepticism turned to confusion, which only deepened when she looked around and saw the other monsters turning into perfectly ordinary birds.

And in the middle of the street, no longer behind any aberrations, stood a woman. She had a definitely magical staff raised overhead. And suddenly it began to rain. Not a hard rain; it was a light drizzle easily shielded by holding her paws over her head. It still wasn’t a normal rain. Not with how that cloud overhead had come out of nowhere sometime during the…oh no, during the battle. She’d just fought a battle.

‘Worry later; work now.’ Tamping down a rising panic, Sam ran after the woman as she dropped her staff into a puddle and stepped off the road.

“Excuse me! Ma’am! Do you…” Sam stopped her words at the same time she stopped in front of the strange woman. What did she want to ask? Would this woman even have answers? Certainly she looked antiquated enough to know something; but then again, Sam didn’t normally wear red hide and tribal tattoos. Appearances were far from a useful metric.

Still, something about the woman felt older, and far more confident, than Sam did. With a deep breath, she plunged ahead. “What happened here? What are those birds, are they still dangerous, and where did everyone else-?”

Mina looked up as the viking boy called out to her, letting the tip of her sword rest against the ground. She gave him a weird look as he raised his hand to request a high-five. Was- was that it? They beat the bad guy stealing souls and his army of evil bird monsters, yay, go team? Like they were some kind of sports club? Like true she was a totally amazing badass who had just saved the world or whatever, but still!

Mina felt someone nudge her shoulder, turning her head briefly to catch sight of the knight lady. “You shouldn’t leave your comrade hanging,” she said, and Mina would almost swear she was smiling at her.

Seriously? This girl too?! Did they even have high-fives in the dark ages? Geez! Well, whatever. Mina raised her hand in defeat, wincing slightly as the boy’s palm slapped against her own. Yay, go team.

---

The Witch of the Waters raised one finger to halt the girl’s flood of questions. “All things in their order,” she said before lowering her hand. “The birds are harmless, I believe. You needn’t worry over them. As for the rest, we should have the others join us, first. If I am to field questions, they should be present to hear the answers.”

She clapped her hands together, a bright grin spreading across her face. “Now! I don’t suppose there is a suitable place nearby for a private gathering of heroes?”

---

The man folded his arms over his broad chest, leaning against the wall out of sight of the street. He had watched much of the battle unfold from here, leaving the boy to his own work as he had requested. A foolish mistake, as he had expected from the start.

“What’s to be done, then?” he asked, paying no mind to the pigeon cooing by his feet. The boy’s capture was his own fault, not the man’s, but it still needed correcting. His eyes narrowed at the words echoing in his mind - leave him? He was a fool, true, but-

Ah. “Very well,” he relented, lowering his head at nothing.

An understandable if unfortunate decision. They hadn’t been aware of any warriors prior to this, and it would be prudent to gauge their total strength moving forward. The stormcaller in particular was concerning - she had done little thus far to demonstrate the extent of her power, and their ignorance of that matter made her dangerous.

He would withdraw for now. If further action were to be taken, it would not be today.

Kagura was starting to realise that she couldn't see anymore birds. Nor could she hear them anymore. She looked over at the pirate, who was standing on the building's ledge. The pirate was smiling, looking out over the city, with her loose ghile shirt billowing in the wind. Kagura had to admit, she looked cool

"Looks like whoever was in charge got taken out. And I think I just spotted somebody who might give us more answers. C'mon!" she commanded, before dropping from the roof and landing unhurt on the ground below. She grinned up at Kagura, who rolled her eyes and headed back to the stairwell. Once they were united, Kagura tutted and glared at her companion.

"Yes, you can jump off the roof. Very impressive. I couldn't do that!"

"You know, lass, I wouldn't be so sure..."

"What? What are you-"

"Anyway, you see those three? Two knights and a wet lady with a staff? I don't think they belong here, same as I don't. This world is so familiar, yet so strange at the same time. I think I recognise the language from scrolls the Dutch brought with them from the Far East. This is Japan, isn't it?"

"Hold on. If you can't read Japanese, how are we speaking?"

"Honestly, lass? I couldn't tell ye."

The pirate and the...magical girl who looking more like she was complaying a pirate-themed idol when stood side by side with a real one, approached Mina and the Witch of the Waters.