With one of the team’s primary offensive powerhouses temporarily out of commission thanks to Chemtrail’s status, both Benedict and Blazermate -who in a stroke of good fortune managed to beat the odds and avoid a random status herself- were of like mind and hurried to awaken her, one through conventional means and the other with the ailment-cleansing Revival Protocol. Unfortunately, their lack of communication resulted in two issues. The pair’s efforts proved to be redundant as the former Turk managed to rouse Poppi from her forced slumber without any special means, which meant that Blazermate’s efforts were wasted in such a crucial moment. Second, because she favored Poppi over Tora, that left the two-foot Nopon all by himself standing bravely before the three-headed chrome monstrosity, with nothing but his hammer and his natural bulk to his name.

“MASTERPON!” Poppi cried out as she jolted awake, but she was too late to stop the shadow’s assault. It fired off Riot Gun three times. The first resulted in a painful but not serious glancing blow as Tora threw himself sideways in a clumsy and desperate to dodge. From there he could only try to block the second shot, but his new hammer did not a shield make. The weapon flew from his wings as the brutal round slammed into him, bowling him over backward. Then the third shot pounded his unprotected back, and the Nopon flew away like a fastball in a spray of blood. He smashed through a second-story window into a nearby apartment complex.

“NO!” Both female machines took to the air, but in different directions. Thinking that she could safely ignore her other allies and Chemtrail to save it for last, Blazermate flew over to help Susie in her one-on-one with Loup-Garou. In so doing she also left Giovanna behind, teeth gritted as she hauled herself to her feet the poison that coursed through her veins untreated. Poppi, meanwhile, zoomed after her Masterpon. She wanted nothing more than to carve Chemtrail into slag, but she couldn’t leave Tora’s fate uncertain. In a blink she disappeared into the same hole Tora crashed through, and she found herself in a small apartment. Judging by the noise, the inhabitants had already taken shelter from the chaos outside in the bathroom. It looked like Tora hit the dining table on entry, cracking it in half, then proceeded to tumble clean to the other side and into the closet. There he lay in a pile of wooden debris and ruined clothes, wounded and still.

Her face aghast, Poppi hurried over to cradle him in her arms and run a quick scan, only to vent the excess steam from her pounding core with a shaky sigh of relief. He’d survived the direct hits with health to spare. As bad as it looked, his internals weren’t compromised, and now that he was out of combat he’d already started to regenerate thanks to his recovery Power. Poppi hurried to brush him off. “You okay?” she asked. “You scared the ether out of me. That was too risky! You could have died!”

“Meheheh,” Tora chuckled. “Am fine, not even need second wind. Hurt less than dragonpon step on Tora, that for sure.”

Sighing, Poppi stood up and turned toward the window. “Just promise me, if it ever looks like it’s too much, you won’t pull something like that again. At least not without a real shield.”

“But if Tora not, friend Giovanna get shot instead, and only Tora tough enough to take shots like that, meh!” her Masterpon countered.

“Giovanna…? Uh oh.” Poppi took off in a sprint and dove back through the window, activating her thrusters. While Blazermate and Susie dealt with Loup-Garou, and Geralt’s match against Zenkichi neared its conclusion, Giovanna had been facing Chemtrail by herself.

More accurately, she faced Chemtrail with Rei. Accompanied by her wolf spirit, the secret agent moved like the wind she dashed back and forth in a zigzag pattern just faster than the metallic menace could react, coolly ignoring the asphalt shrapnel that exploded mere feet behind her. She and Rei slid into melee range with a maximum-range sweep that knocked one of Chemtrails’ feet out from under it, but the shadow wouldn’t be so easily displaced. It unleashed a salvo of shots at point-blank range but Giovanna burned some tension to negate the chip damage as she blocked with Faultless Defense. “Meh-meh!?” Tora murmured in awe of the feat as he and Poppi swooped in. “How Gi-Gi even better blocker than Tora!?”

“Just help her!” Without enough time to find and fetch his hammer, Poppi handed him the Variable Saber, then blasted downward to strike Chemtrail in its central face with a kick. She popped Tora up so he could fall with a plunging stab and sink the plasma blade into the top of Chemtrail’s engine. Cursing, the shadow leaned back to blast off an upward shot at Poppi, but she was already on the move. She fired her revolvers as she circled around, although once she realized her Dark element was completely useless she changed gears. Instead she focused on keeping ahead of the next two Riot Gun shots and distracting the monster long enough for Tora to change saber modes and unload shotgun blasts straight down at point-blank. With a growl Chemtrail turned its attention to bucking Tora off, which in turn gave Giovanna -now behind her foe- a great opportunity.

She sprinted into its legs as if in a futile attempt to shove it off its feet, but she had a different goal in mind. Nothing built up tension as fast as running straight toward her opponent, and even if she wasn’t going anywhere, this counted. After a moment she reached maximum, and her appearance changed as Rei’s power infused her. Her eyes went white as her skin and hair began to glow. Right after Chemtrail dislodged Tora, Giovanna went on the offensive with Burst Time. She slammed the earth with an electrified ground pound, then launched upward with three blazing backflip kicks. The sudden force to the top-heavy terror’s back nearly caused it to stumble forward, and as it whirled around it caught a glimpse of Giovanna at the apex of her jump. Then she zoomed downward with a divekick of her own. She not only managed to knock Chemtrail onto its back, but dragged it across the street, carving a furrow like a fiery plow. A Sol Nascente flip kick strong enough to launch the likes of Potemkin actually managed to make Chemtrail airborne. She leaped skyward after it, electrocuting its body on contact with crossed arms until it lost momentum, at which point Rei manifested above it to kick it back down to earth. On impact it left behind a crater in which it lay for a moment, taken aback by the secret agent’s strength and the power of her combined technique.

Giovanna landed beside the crater. “How about it?” she asked nonchalantly as Tora and Poppi approached, ready to finish the monster off. Blazermate was back too, although nobody looked very pleased with her. It seemed like Giovanna had managed to fight through the poison, though. “I call it Dança do Vento Ardente.”

Before the duo could reply, Chemtrail did–by casting Megidolaon. The Seekers ran for their lives as a cluster-bomb of Almighty explosions went off in Chemtrail’s vicinity. Tora, Poppi, and Giovanna avoided the worst of it, but they all took some hefty damage. “Hell of a last resort,” Giovanna hissed. “We’d better finish this!”

“On it!” Flying through the chaos, Poppi switched to her Fire Core, then positioned herself diagonally above Chemtrail. Blazermate joined her to empower her with crits, and after a moment Poppi raised hell. “Noponic Axiom!” she cried, unleashing her accumulated power in a brilliant beam of flame. The torrential inferno both damaged and superheated the shadow’s metal body, softening it up, and with its attention on Poppi it didn’t notice Tora and Giovanna approaching from either side. Together they struck with a saber slash and wolf kick, carving through the knees holding its heavy body up. With a furious bellow, Chemtrail hit the ground, immobilized. In quick succession, the three Seekers finished it off with one final blow each to its three faces. Then the shadow melted away, and the fight was over.



In the aftermath of the fight everyone recovered as quickly as they could. Poppi recovered Chemtrail’s spirit, while Tora took Jack Frost’s. Though brief, it had been a furious confrontation with no small amount of collateral damage thanks mostly to Chemtrail, and it wouldn’t be long before others -most likely DespoRHado- got involved. The Seekers needed to skedaddle, but that’s where things got interesting. In the course of his contest against Zenkichi, Geralt utilized a Friend Heart to both end the fight and free the Persona user from Galeem’s influence. The results spoke for themselves; Zenkichi was not happy. The double-whammy of realizing his daughter might be in danger and that a past enemy of his now worked as his superior left Zenkichi reeling, but the team didn’t have time to pick up the pieces.

“It’s a long story, and we’re a little short on time right now,” Giovanna told him. She pointed out a sky-line nearby as a way to escape the scene, and pulled out her sky-hook in preparation to use it. “It sounds like you’re worried about your kid, so do whatever you need to do. But we can tell you everything you need to know about the state of the world, and how to fix it. Come and find us tomorrow morning.” She quickly recited the address of the S.O.U. building in Sector 7. “I’m trusting you here. The you that Benedict here seems to trust in. I know it’s a lot to think about, but give us a chance to prove we’re the good guys. Don’t screw us.” With that, she took off running for the sky-line, and the other Seekers had little choice but to follow.”

Once a safe distance from prying eyes and DespoRHado enforcers, the Seekers headed back to the train station. By the time night fell across Midgar they were well on their way back to headquarters, destined to arrive there before the Suoh group with no knowledge of what had befallen the other team until Goldlewis called in to give his unbelievable report. Not long after that Karin, Roxas, Midna, and Pit arrived via Neuron helicopter, disheveled and wide-eyed from everything they’d seen and been through. Despite their curiosity, Tora and Poppi were in agreement: catching up could wait until tomorrow morning. With space on the couches limited, the two spent the night swaddled in blankets in a closet, Tora resting safe and secure in the lap of his beloved companion. He dreamed of many things, but never in his wildest dreams did he conceive of what the morrow would bring.



Goldlewis awoke at six o’clock on the dot, not because he wanted to, but because that was when he woke up. No matter what time he went to bed, or the events of the night before, the clock in his head retrieved him from slumberland at six o’clock in the morning. It had been that way for decades now. Just a part of aging, he supposed. He couldn’t go back to sleep either, but today at least he lay awake in bed for a little while longer. Not that his apartment could be called very comfortable. No matter where he went, Goldlewis tended to find that people simply built things too small, and in this particular corner of the Sector 7 Plate he barely squeezed in. So most days he didn’t find it too hard to roll out of bed, but today was not most days.

Not after yesterday, his first real day as a member of the Seekers who bravely chose to fight for the freedom of all people from Galeem’s dominion, and only in the crisis of that evening did he really begin to understand what that meant. He’d been away from the frontlines too long. Just as he had back in America, he’d gotten so concerned trying to handle things from the top down that his life as a soldier, fighting firsthand against the enemies of humanity, had receded into the distance. Yet those days never truly left him. Even if his mind grew hazy, his body remembered–muscle memories drilled into him, and the ache of old scars. A younger man, fresh from his first battle, might have gone the whole night without sleeping a wink, his mind awash with the horrors of war. But Goldlewis slept like a log the whole night. This wasn’t his first rodeo, not by a long shot. Whatever the enemy, whatever the casualties, whatever the consequences, if Goldlewis Dickinson meant to fight, he would take everything he could get. In this case that meant six straight hours of shuteye, from the moment he parked his hummer out front and fell into bed until the moment his mental clock woke him up. And now, it was time to go. Another long day no doubt awaited him.

He showered, styled, and dressed with well-practiced efficiency, and soon set out for headquarters. It was still dark out and starting to rain, but his beloved vehicle hummed contentedly as he drove along the streets. Just by looking at it one would never guess that his Patriot Mammoth had sustained tremendous damage just last night, its sides scraped, its windows shattered, its rubber burnt, and its body poked full of holes, but living in this composite world had its benefits. The most successful mechanics in Midgar cornered the market with absurd turnaround time on repairs no matter how severe the damage, all thanks to miraculous ‘pickups’ that looked like holographic wrenches, floating in the air. The simple act of driving a broken-down vehicle into one, as long as it still retained some semblance of function, fixed it right up in the blink of an eye. Such services didn’t come cheap, of course, but for the Mammoth? Anything.

By seven-thirty, Goldlewis sat himself down in the S.O.U. office meeting room, his spot at the table the same as it had been yesterday afternoon. On the table lay two boxes of doughnuts, courtesy of him, and twelve black coffees, courtesy of Jessica McCarney. After arriving a little on the later side, Giovanna claimed one of the coffees before plopping down on a bean bag with Rei. All the action from yesterday had taken its toll on her previous outfit, so today the secret agent showed up in a similar but different outfit, minus the tie and glasses but plus her trademark shoes. If things were going to get even rowdier going forward, she probably figured that having more than one button might be a good idea. Still…

“When’re you gonna button that thing up all the way?” Goldlewis asked idly. “It ain’t professional.”

Giovanna shrugged. Her comrade got the impression this wasn’t the first time she’d been asked. “How else am I gonna catch a good man?”

The pair’s chat came to an end when a familiar face entered the room. Though stout, bald, and sporting a white chinstrap beard, the man possessed a certain magnetism, and he wore a smile on his face. “Good morning,” former president Vernon Groubitz told them, helping himself to a doughnut. “Read your reports on the way over,” he told them evenly after taking a bite. “One afternoon with our new friends, and it sounds like you’ve already gone through hell.”

“We seem to have a knack for findin’ trouble,” Goldlewis sighed.

“And sticking our fingers in a whole lot of pies.” Vernon took a coffee as well, then seated himself, crossing his legs. “Gangs in Detroit. People going undercover in Psych-OSF. A new base in Seiran. Some sort of big operation this morning? And not one, but two Turks freed from Galeem, possibly defecting to our side! Making waves, hmm?” He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m eager to finally meet our new friends. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Goldlewis nodded as he reached for a doughnut himself. “You bet your britches we do.”



Plumb tired though she was, Nadia made her way back out of the Royal Quarter with a pep in her step. Few things lifted her spirits in the same way as a good old-fashioned wad of money just burning a hole in her pocket. It meant the best eats, drinks, and comfort she could find for the remainder of the night and as long as she could laze around tomorrow morning before things got rolling again. Was this indulgent of her? Maybe, but with how often she put her neck on the line nowadays, she felt she had more than earned her just rewards. If anything, after making it out of the Dead Zone, Kosm’s Beach, and now the Womb after as many days, she felt like a bonafide hero; surely she deserved to rest on her laurels, just a little. So she felt pretty unashamed about the prospect of lavishly spending her ill-gotten gains. The bigger issue, come to think of it, was whether or not a city for bugs and beasts would have feasts fit for a feral like her. All of a sudden all the different creatures she’d spotted before ran through her head as she pictured the different kinds of monster chow this place might have in store. This matter perturbed her so thoroughly, in fact, that as she approached the long bridge between the Royal Quarter and Fountain Central, she didn’t pay any attention to where she was going until too late.

Out of the blue she bumped into someone, lightly bonking her head on a metal exterior. “Meowch!” she squeaked, much more startled than hurt by the unexpected impact. Nadia backpedaled a couple steps reflexively, shaking her head in an attempt to snap back to reality. “Sorry about…:”

When she attempted to lay eyes on the person she’d collided with she wound up with quite a shock. This stranger loomed over her like an ancient statue, tall and imposing in a suit of metal armor, lit from behind by one of the pink lanterns that adorned the district’s arched entryway. Blue-scaled, with fins, fangs, and a red ponytail, this wasn’t just a formidable warrior, but the guard Nadia spotted while on the prowl earlier. Her ears almost flattened out of defensive reflex, but despite her elevated heart rate the cat burglar managed to keep her composure. Nobody put on a brave face like Nadia Fortune, after all. She quickly cleared her throat. “...Sorry about that! Guess my head was in the clouds, nyaha!”

Undyne chuckled, laughing the accident off with no overt hostility, which in Nadia’s experience was pretty rare for a keeper of the peace. “Fuhuhu! There aren’t any clouds underground, SILLY!” After a moment though, the eye not hidden behind her eyepatch suddenly narrowed. “...Hey! You aren’t from around here, are you?”

At the big fish’s sudden change of tune, Nadia could help but bristle. “...What, a commoner like me can’t visit the rich part of town, pinin’ after the sweet life I could have one day long as I keep myself on the straight and narrow, like I have been?”

“Huh?” Undyne blinked, her brow raised. “I mean, you aren’t a Home of Tears citizen, are you? Just saying, I think I’d remember a face like yours!”

A mite embarrassed at having barked up the wrong tree, Nadia scratched her nose, putting on an apologetic face. “Ohh…right, I gotcha. Uh, no, I’m not. My friends and I just rolled in from the Womb, actually. After I got myself straightened out at that freaky sanitarium, I figured I’d look around for somewhere to grab a bite, y’know?”

Her mention of the Womb seemed to impress Undyne. “Not bad! That place is pretty tricky for normal people. But…” She rubbed her bald cranium as if to massage her brain into overdrive. “Isn’t the Sanitarium downtown? What’re you doing in the Royal Quarter?”

Crap. “Because…” Nadia stretched out the word as she held up her hands in resignation, trying to think of something. “It was too…expensive? Yeah, that’s it. I wanted to treat myself, but after comin’ over I realized I was flat broke. Blegh!” She smacked her palm against her head in a self-deprecating gesture.

Undyne nodded sagaciously. “Ahh, makes sense!” Crossing her arms, she looked off into the distance. “Me, I’m only here to keep an eye out. You know, thieves, burglars, such and such.” She leaned over Nadia, squinting. “You see any out there?”

“Me?” With every fiber of her being Nadia attempted to portray the depths of her indignance. “No ma’am! Why, I’m so straight-laced, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind!”

The announcement made Undyne crack a grin. “Wow, that straight-laced? Sounds like a challenge to me! Nobody upholds the law better than the captain of the guard, just wait and see!”

Nadia couldn’t help but giggle a little at this goofball. “I’ll be rootin’ for ya. Go get ‘em!”

“They won’t know what hit ‘em! Fuhuhuhuhu!”

Energized by the power of justice, Undyne took off running down the street through the rain, forcing her mermaid guards to race after her. Her direction was anyone’s guess. Nadia turned to watch her go, but she thought of something before the fishwoman disappeared from sight. “Oh, one more thing, miss sheriff, if you don’t mind!”

Undyne skidded to a stop in a spray of water, causing a pileup with the mermaid guards. As they toppled over their captain whipped around. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“If you see anyone else not from around here, could you tell them somethin’ for me?” Nadia called after her. “Miss Fortune awaits at the biggest hotel in the city!”

“Huh? Something wrong with Habbo Hotel?” Undyne looked confused. “I mean, I don’t know who’d go looking for misfortune on purpose, but I’ll tell ‘em!” Then she ran off, with her entourage as close behind as they could manage, and with a smug grin Nadia went on her way.

---

With only a brief pause in Fountain Central, both to observe Cornifer’s absence for the night and that strangely off-putting statue in greater detail, Nadia returned to the western downtown district. Even with her coat keeping her head and upper body mostly dry, she was beginning to get tired of the constant pounding rain, and she wanted nothing more than to hole up in a nice, cozy place and go to sleep. It wasn’t difficult to spot the giant orange mass of the hotel Undyne mentioned toward the back of the district near the cavern wall, but before that she needed to hunt down somewhere to eat.

While looking around she noticed an open store in a big, burlap tent, held together by stitches and buttons. Called Seam’s, it seemed to be a pawn shop if the extra signage was anything to go by. She made a mental note of its location to pay it a visit later. While she didn’t mind fighting with the anchors she’d gotten from Massachusetts, their unwieldy combination of stubbiness and top-heaviness meant she could do a lot better in terms of melee weapons, and she might as well make a few extra coins off them. Hopefully Seam’s would have some other unwanted loot weapons lying around she could pick up in exchange. The Bait Launcher she planned to keep, of course. Not everyone got the privilege of being able to just blast a steak at some poor mook and summon a tiger to ruin its day.

In the end, the feral did manage to find a suitable restaurant: Definitely Not Fried Chicken. Despite the name, it did actually offer fried (as well as grilled and blackened) chicken, in addition to a few other options. Hardly a fancy affair, it bore the trappings of a typical sports bar, with snail races, swordplay, and pain olympics on TV, and a rough-and-tumble selection of customers. Perfect. Nadia grabbed a big basket of spicy wings and the biggest glass of beer the place could offer, then seated herself in a cozy corner. She planned to chow down all by her lonesome, but halfway through her second wing a lycanthrope showed up to say hello. He seemed eager to make a good first impression on account of her being a catgirl, but since Nadia was a dog person metaphorically and always happy to make new friends, she did not hesitate to accept his invitation to join his friends over at their table.

Over a round of drinks and a feast of chicken she soon got acquainted with the gang and their poultry-loving buddy Bob, who upon closer inspection Nadia realized was a pile of pink slimes in a trench coat. For a while, the feral could put her worries and cares aside and enjoy some simple pleasures with undiscerning, like-minded strangers, laughing and joking and telling stories. Nadia and the wolfman naturally played off one another, Drac served as the perfect straight man to the others’ antics, the leprechaun was just a funny, boisterous guy, and Bob was a good listener. Although, Nadia also noticed the others on either side of him gathering pink crystals from around his chair every so often after he ate, and she couldn’t help but wonder where they were coming from. It was almost eleven o’clock by the time DNFC’s employees shooed the gaggle of drunken monsters out the door. After a quick round of heartfelt goodbyes and goodnights, they all staggered off through the rain in different directions toward home. Nadia made her way to Habbo Hotel to check herself into a luxury suite for the night, and after dragging herself upstairs she could only toss away her coat before she collapsed into the freshly-made plush softness of bed. She was out like a light.

Asgore's was a sad tale, a kind king deposed and replaced by cruel tyrants. Primrose listened quietly as the story was told. It was very informative, and a few things stuck out to her and she mentally filed them away for later. It was just a shame that the context of the information was so tragic. Once the story was over, the group sat in silence - but only for a moment.

She was both amused and bemused at the Koopa Troop's treatment of the flame clock. She watched them try to break it, sink it, then retrieve it. Though ultimately their attempt had failed, all the same Primrose was glad that they were on the Seekers' side after that display of power. Once the clock was resting in its new place between the altar weapons, the dancer spoke up.

"Instead of dealing with the clock, we should instead deal with the people forcing the issue," she said. The former king had even bid them as much, to not let P or F get away with what they were doing. "The consuls. Once we defeat the area's guardian, the... energy it gives off might be enough to free the city. But the consuls are sure to get in our way before that."

Besides the fact that the Consuls seemed to want to preserve the status quo of the World of Light, everything else about them was a mystery. Their motivation, their goals behind hindering the Seekers... but even still, that they'd pose a problem in the Seekers' quest was a given.

"We know there's one consul right below us, so why don't we pay him a visit? Hopefully we can find the others before that, but if we dispose of one consul, it may draw the other out."

Though to be honest, Primrose wasn't so sure of that. Were the consuls friends, or just comrades by circumstance? And for one as cruel as Asgore made F out to be, would he even care if P was killed? If he wanted to toy with the Seekers, it was more likely he wouldn't show up in the event that P was defeated. But they couldn't know until it happened. "Even if it doesn't, that would be one less obstacle to deal with later as we look for those masks."

Speaking of the mask pieces, Primrose collected the one that Asgore relinquished to them. Then she glanced at the Hive Knight. "We should help Barnabee out after our trip into the city. After what Asgore told us, it would make sense that one of these pieces is in his queendom."

Regardless if the other Seekers agreed with her suggested plan or not, their next step would be traveling to the Home of Tears. At some point they should probably purge Teemo and Barnabee of the "lifelight," maybe just before heading to the city? Vaguely Primrose wondered what time it was, since it had been more than a couple of hours even since arriving at the Temple of the Black Egg. Before the group went outside to seek the pipe the would take them to the city below the lake, Primrose turned to Asgore.

"Thank you for hosting us, and telling us your story," she said. "I have one more question for you, if you don't mind. Though I'm not sure if you'll have an answer. You mentioned that you've been here for years... here, in this remade world? How could it be that you've been here this long, when there are others who only recall being here but a few months?"

Though she didn't explicitly saw that she was one of these people, it could be inferred. She remembered Noblecourt, the Obsidians, Simeon... and then she remembered the aptly named Land of Adventure, ending up in Smash City Alcamoth, and living there amongst its battle-friendly inhabitants until the Seekers of Light arrived. It troubled her to think there might be a huge gap in her memory.

"Is it possible that the world isn't... done expanding? That it draws people into it over time?" she asked, preferring this theory over a bout of amnesia or something more sinister.

Asgore took a long, deep breath. "That's... not it." Even more so now than when he mentioned the countless lives thrust into his hands, to be sustained through interminable acts of murder that he abhorred with every fiber of his being, the old goat sounded grim. "I'm a kind of monster that only ages when my children do, but... my only child died long ago. So no matter how many lives pass me by, I'm still here." He twiddled his thumbs, not meeting the dancer's eyes. "I'm sorry, miss. But I don't think you or your friends are ready to hear the truth. It's just too darn much." The former king rattled out a hollow-sounding sigh.

His response surprised Primrose. Silently she regarded the goat man and considered whether or not she should press him. He was being honest about withholding information, and apparently did so for their sake. If they didn't learn the truth now, they could come to know it eventually - but patient as Primrose was, the ominous answer would sit with her for a while.

"Alright," she said after a few moments, voice soft. "If it won't help us, then I'll leave it be for now. But if... whatever it is might interfere with our plan, I think we have a right to know."

Asgore nodded stiffly. "It shouldn't. But if you do manage to finish the job here in the Under, and you still want to know, I'll tell you then."

Good enough. Primrose gave him a nod of her own, fully intending to hold him to that. She finished the last of her tea that had gone cold and bid the former king goodbye for now. Once Teemo, Rubick, and everyone had their fill of tea, cookies, and questions it was time to move on. The group ventured outside to look for the "green pipe," the path to the Home of Tears.

Teemo chuckled a little sardonically as the interaction between Asgore and Rubick, putting a gloved hand over his mouth in an ineffective effort to mask the sound; though not exactly kind, the high pitched giggles wouldn't betray any malice either. Teemo did sympathize with the strange fellow's tragedy, even if somewhat warily. In Runeterra there were any amount ruined Kingds, and from what he knew, most of them tended to be the sort who killed more people than your average volcanic eruption outside a city. Still, given that he seemed amiable enough the Yordle wasn't going to draw his blowgun once more on him.

Though Teemo was quite partial to the snacks that he received from the horned King, the mirth still left the furry lad as they got to business. Crunching thoughtfully on the cookies he listened to the information that would guide the party on their next step. He stood mouth agape as Asgore transitioned to telling his own story, the fuzzy warrior entranced by the tale of all that he lost. "Well, we yordles are immortal!" Teemo announced proudly once the topic took the matter of lives fading away. But quickly an existential dread overtook him when by the words of the ruined King, the Captain gradually began to realize that this probably didn't quite apply anymore. If he went out now, that was it: finality. A fearful shiver briefly overtook him as for the first time somebody who previously could not die now experienced fear of death. But just as any other challenge, he decided it must be taken with bravery. Sure, even if yordles were immortal as spirits that simply came back, they could still suffer and otherwise find loss. This was no different he reasoned internally, simply the stakes were a little higher. Well, much higher. But no point dwelling on it!

Teemo's face soured even further however when the story of all the sacrifices made by Asgore was expanded upon. Wiping away a tear, he saluted the King. "Sir, we absolutely will not let them get away with it. Or we'll die trying!" he said, his eyes nervously darting sideways as he hoped to avoid the awkward situation that his companions didn't share this noble sentiment out of a desire for self-preservation.

Seeing what Bowser was up to, Teemo gasped. Seeing the shelled King's expression he knew there was no dissuading him so he simply ran as fast as his stubby feet would take him to be safe from the backlash of his ill advised actions. Cowering behind a rock, Teemo hid as quietly and as compactly as he could with his hands over his skull to protect its precious contents in the even that Bowser's power-trip resulted in the whole damn place collapsing. It wasn't likely it seemed, but with the powers expended Teemo didn't quite rule it out either.

"Phew." he said, appearing out of his hiding spot somewhere between Rubrich and Primrose. While certainly Bowser's gang seemed to provide the most might to the party, the fact that it had multiple heads in its count didn't detract from the fact the group's brains were mostly amassed elsewhere.

The soldier nodded his head vigorously at the words of the Dancer, her suggested course of action the one that most upheld traditional values of heroes like justice, freedom, and blah-blah-blah. Further, he most certainly agreed with her sense of curiosity. "Oh, that's unfair!" he said when Asgore insisted they weren't ready to hear the truth. "I'll hold you to that!" he continued once the King said that he would tell them after they completed their quest. "I've been here less than a day and there's already so many question with only like...." he paused, counting fingers on a hand. "A quarter of them answered!"

Cleaning the dust from his glasses with the cloth of his shirt, the former Turk couldn't help but let an exasperated sigh escape his mouth though glad to have not been a casualty he was less than enthusiastic about the number the fight had done on the surrounding buildings. Benedict shook his head 'It is folly to mull such thoughts.' sooner than later the surrounding area would be met with Midgar's authorities and no sooner would he want to stay here than be clapped in irons and taken in for questioning.

Giovanna's parting words gave the former Turk nothing to add, Zenkichi no doubt would have enough sense to follow her frank if not valuable advice though he was loath to admit the secret agent had a point she was right to tell the detective to choose what he decides to do wisely. Benedict no sooner had sheathed the blade of his sword back into the hollow casing of his cane, wiping it clean with the kerchief in his vest pocket.

Quickly tucking the white cloth back into his pocket, Benedict hastened to follow the rest of the Seekers as they departed. The likes of the older Turk wasn't as spry as the others so he had to walk at a brisk pace, kneeling for but a moment as the soft glow of something amongst the dust and debris caught his attention.

It was the spirit of the ice maiden nestled beneath shards of glass and stone laying about upon the sidewalk, though he hardly believed in the afterlife he was certain this was some form of being that was left by things in this world, assuming that the nature of things were dictated by the force known as Galeem it was likely he too would take such a form upon death. A grim thought indeed yet one he couldn't afford to dwell upon at the moment all he knew was that he could use these spirits to his advantage, and he would utilize them if it would prove useful.

Taking Apsaras' spirit in his hand and considered simply taking its power yet without hesitation the tactician made the decision to bind the maidens spirit to his own, her abilities would prove useful to him and he needed an edge if he was to be able to fight. The act felt alien to the likes of a man such as Benedict, he was still after all someone from a land where such things as spirits and demons were nonexistent or better yet simply a myth so to him bonding with the spirit was a slightly jarring experience.

Not lingering a moment longer, Benedict set a brisk pace to catch up with the other Seekers.


Adjusting the frames of his glasses Benedict rubbed his eyes with a free hand as he entered the meeting room of the S.O.U. building, the bags under his eyes no doubt a telling sign he had a less than restful sleep after the long day prior. Even still he blinked to clear his vision as he pushed his spectacles back into place, and cleared his throat with a polite ahem as he made his way to a seat at the end of the table where he sat with a muted grunt.

Now coffee, or rather the things it was made of such as coacoa beans were not an alien thing to Benedict but for someone of his status it had been a luxury in the finer times he spent serving under the leadership of House Wolffort, the demesne's rare to receive such fine goods even in the most prosperous of times. So the medieval man, took the steaming cup in hand gingerly to peer into it. The coffee was black, reflecting his image somewhat in the morning light as he brought it to his lips and sipped it carefully before gently setting it down.

It tasted bitter, unsweetened by any milk or sugar unlike he put in his tea. It was god awful but it was common for men of the working stripe or sailors to take their brew as black as the deepest sea depths to keep their wits about them and it certainly gave an older man like Benedict the kick he needed to get his wits about him.

"Trouble is putting it mildly" having caught the end of their conversation, the gist of which was mostly banter, Benedict spoke up with a grimace from the bitter taste of his coffee "Keeping a low-profile is impossible it seems." he was of course referring to the fact they were harboring someone Shinra was keen on finding but he didn't bother to imply it any further simply brushing the subject off with a shrug "Regardless, it matters not." brushing off the subject he took another sip of the bitter coffee before continuing "Benedict Pascal, tidings to you sir and present company." nodding in Vernon's direction the former inspector introduced himself and offered the normal formalities to all seated.

"We are as they say 'walking on eggshells' in regards to coming to blows with the authorities." with the activity yesterday, Benedict had no doubts that the authorities were going to be quite active today, it wasn't like the Public Security to let something like mass property damage and the odd explosion to go under their radar so he was not under the impression today would be as easy as yesterday had been.

"But what of your mission Goldlewis?" Benedict had wondered what the big man's leads had turned up, hopefully something deeper than what they had turned up besides the number of G-Men that were likely patrolling the streets down in the city below.

They fled the Noumenon. They didn't really have another choice, so after running through the ground floor and taking a custom escape route courtesy of Wonder Red and Big Band they avoided the police waiting at the massive library's exits and were back on the streets. With his focus purely on his allies' backs in front of him, the Ace Cadet didn't worry about getting lost or separated during the dizzying escape. By the time they slowed down in a rundown side street they should have lost most of their pursuers, but the most dangerous among them would still be on the Seekers' trail.

Before they could be led right to the hideout, Band suggested they deal with Irons' officers. They'd have to do it at some point, so why not here? The Cadet was completely on board with Big Band's notion to take care of things here and now.

"I was getting tired of all the running we were doing today anyway," he said. "And my arms are practically burning to snow these Kecha-wackos the true meaning of Justice!"

So in they went, the derelict remains of some shop their chosen battleground. There was hardly enough time to take cover in order not to be siting ducks before Irons' men burst onto the scene. The Cadet sized them up. To the average person, they'd probably be pretty intimidating.

'Heat signatures' were mentioned. It was simple enough to figure out what the robot copper meant when he was making a beeline towards the Seekers' hiding places. That was fine - they weren't trying to fool the trio anyway. Being realistic, it was always going to come to blows.

The Ace Cadet was, as ever, confident in his team - which now included Albedo and Frisk. He only hoped the scuffle with Artemis and then the run through the city hadn't worn on their stamina too much. As for himself, he had only a few seconds to pick the best tool for the job. With the ship rigging packed away for now he wouldn't be trading bullets for bullets unless he decided to mess about with the gun he picked up from Alcamoth. While the bow had been useful versus Artemis, its effectiveness would be more limited here. A trusty blade would do the trick.

He didn't let Byte or Barq come all the way to them. The first to burst out and go on the attack, the Cadet's long sword flashed out of its sheathe and straight towards the colorful metal man. The Cadet had gone with the Nightsky Ripper as his weapon of choice for its mid-to-short range and high offensive capabilities. How nice it would have been to cleave right through the ball joint holding Byte's top and bottom halves together, but the Cadet's attack didn't even connect - the robo-police hound intercepted the blade. Sporting a new gash in its metal casing, Barq spun away with a tinny howl. It left the Cadet and Byte face to face, with Stryker soon to close in.

"Halt! You're under arrest!" the metal policeman said, raising his dukes.

"Huh, wouldn't 'freeze' work better?"

Whoosh. Whoosh. Bam. The springs that Byte had for arms weren't just for show. He threw a quick punch, one that the Cadet easily side-stepped, but the follow up punch went wide and curved into the hunter's side. Just as quickly as he'd thrown the punches, Byte retracted his ARMS and resumed his fighting stance, backing up to give himself some room to really stretch.

Given that the Cadet's main exposure to robots so far had been Blazermate, Poppi, and a handful of others it didn't exactly come as a surprise that Byte was some type of spry fighter. It would make him a pain to deal with though. On his right fist was a big, dark, bulky boxing glove, while on the left was a ribbed yellow and black... thing. Whatever it was, it must do something besides act as a bludgeon since it briefly crackled with electricity.

The second volley of punches came. The Cadet wasn't caught unawares by the curving arms this time. He deflected the bubb arm with his blade and parried the seekie, retaliating with the Critical Juncture counterattack. Steel was meeting steel in an unorthodox exchange.

Wonder Red's suggestion was shot down, which he was fine with. The teachings of CENTINELS combat and battlefield ops weren't going to be universal in this world, a fact he would need to get used to sooner or later. A chase it was.

Maybe less of a chase and more a retreat, though everyone was well aware that their trail would be picked up by the few higher-up officers Irons had picked to get them. Having a hideout certainly helped. But before they reached it they'd need to deal with their pursuers.

Ducking into an abandoned shop, the team hunkered down in wait for Nightingale, Stryker, and Byte & Barq to follow. When the trio arrived everyone prepared for a scrap. Wonder Red needed to consider his options a bit more; the fight against Artemis had totally drained his energy reserves, which would take a while to charge back up, though even if he did have the power to Unite Morph it wouldn't be the smartest play in the moment. One-on-one fisticuffs wasn't a Wonderful One's specialty, but they could manage if need be.

Ace Cadet got first strike on the robotic officer and its guard dog, to which Red followed up by rolling out of cover to face off against Stryker - brawler to brawler.

"Lay down your arms and you can walk away!" Wonder Red was poised to fight, giving Stryker the opportunity to surrender, despite the circumstances. The kombatant didn't take the offer, coming in at Red fast. Wonder Red sidestepped a kick, aiming a follow-up jab into Stryker's torso. He was a better dueler than Red, though, and easily blocked the counterblow.

Stryker had experience and technique, while Wonder Red had quicker reactions and a smaller target to hit. It wasn't going to be an easy fight, but there was some equal footing there...

---

Once the whole fiasco with the Flame Clock subsided and the rest of the Seekers learned all they could from Asgore, all that remained was to heed his advice and descend to the fabled Home of Tears. Barnabee, for one, did not prolong the team’s visit at the ashen hollow a second longer than he needed to. On one hand he couldn’t realistically count himself as a member of this group just yet, which meant he could neither speak on their behalf nor know the questions to which Asgore might have answers. On the other hand, this place just gave him the creeps. It did not escape his notice that the home of this ‘grim reaper’, as he called himself, lay carpeted in drifts and dunes of ash quite unlike the sand of the sandback he traveled across. Given that bodies turned to cinders shortly after expiration, just how much life had the former king claimed for the Home of Tears? How many deaths did it take to amass such a massive congeries of ash? The fact that poisonous yellow flowers, cheerfully and innocently vibrant in color, bloomed from the mass grave only formed the nail in the coffin. Barnabee exited Asgore’s domain before anyone else.

“What a dangerous fellow,” he buzzed. “Provided that all he saith be truth, he wouldst make for a monumental foe should he ever crack beneath that burden of his and lose his wits. He certainly harbors both the strength and the reason to do so.” The Hive Knight rubbed his hands, still on edge. “I can but wonder…were that Flame Clock not quite so full, but closer instead to depletion, would he have attempted to strike us down upon meeting…?”

It took only a few moments to locate the pipe that the old goat told them about. It wasn’t hidden at all, only tucked away in an unexpected place. There wasn’t much to it; a green tube a few feet in diameter simply poked up from the ashy sand, with a lip a bit thicker than the rest of it. Seeing the gray splotches around the tube conjured images in Barnabee’s head of terrified foes attempting to flee Asgore only to be cut down before reaching this exit. He shivered, and with a final look around at the unbelievable environment of Ash Lake, hopped down into the pipe. Upon entering, he began to be pulled through the dark interior of the pipe at high speed as if by suction, never banging against the sides even as he went around twists and turns. Alarmed but a little exhilarated, he could only wait for the ride to end.



He did not expect the pipe to suddenly expel him out into pitch-black water, wheeling around in panic as he attempted to determine which way was up. After a second, however, the motion triggered a handful of lights, most of them built into the lakebed below but a few searchlights as well that automatically rotated to track the new arrivals. Barnabee and the other Seekers found themselves in a roughly cylindrical basin, filled with other pipes, metal supports, and fish small enough to not trip the lights. Most unusually, a diagonal curve of what looked like a racetrack seemed to be immersed in here, but right now everyone’s primary concern was getting out. Barnabee swam upward and after a moment surfaced. The basin they arrived in turned out to be a rather deep artificial pond, set in a courtyard of stone brick walls and glowing fungal gardens. In fact, the Seekers had made it to yet another gigantic cavern, so huge that an entire city of blue-black stone and a chitin masonry and wrought iron could stretch out around them. The area around them seemed to be rather aesthetic and upper-class, awash in a soft, comfortable pink glow. Tallest of all stood the huge, magical-looking clock tower right in front of them, with its massive double doors directly ahead of the bridge that spanned their pond. At the other end of the bridge lay an archway, the dividing line between the property of Gallo Tower and the rest of the Royal Quarter. Pounding rain poured down from above, which they knew must be from Ash Lake given its position. The team had reached the Home of Tears.



When Ae went on the offensive and kicked things off, Band followed suit. While the decrepit market didn’t offer a lot of great cover for anyone, what little it had and could be made use of by the others would have utterly failed to conceal the giant gumshoe, so he took refuge somewhere else. After trading a couple blows with Red, Stryker suddenly noticed saw the cool afternoon sunlight pouring down on him through the gaping hole in the roof go dark. “This one’s mine.” The man’s head snapped up in time to see Band descending on him like a meteor, tambourine extended.

“Shake, shake!” he called, whirling the instrument like a buzzsaw. Unable to anti-air in time, Stryker blocked the three hits with a grunt, and with the low recovery afforded to him by his choice of a light attack, Band landed beside him ready for more. “Black…” Raising his other leg, the detective deployed a trombone to hit going and coming with Pneumatic Slide. “...and blue!” His foe kept his guard up, so Band decided to take him by surprise. “”Few!” From beneath his billowing trench coat he thrust an array of organ pipes, but to his surprise Stryker reacted to Low Rank appropriately–by crouching down to block low. That left him with more than enough time to punish Band with the three-hit combo Pain Patrol. As Band stumbled back, the cop followed up with a grenade at his feet, with only a brief delay before its explosion would enable Stryker to pull off an ambiguous mix-up.

But to Band, this sort of trick wasn’t anything special. He hopped up and a blue flash he parried both the grenade blast and Stryker’s overhead punch. “Uh huh.” Already overextended, the cop couldn’t do much but jump backward to safety before the detective’s cymbals clashed together inches from his face. As Stryker composed himself, Band permitted himself a wry smirk. “Why don’t ya show yourself out, mister? This is one beat you’re better off missin’.”

Stryker reached for his gun, thought for a second, then slipped his baton from its holster. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

“You first. Giant Step!” Band deployed an enormous drum pedal and slammed it into the ground. Though out of its range, Stryker blocked low just to be safe, only to fall prey to the special move’s unblockable quake. It not only knocked him off his feet, but pulled him closer to Band, who was ready with Take the A Train. He lunged forward and caught Stryker inside his brass arm, pounded it twice, then released him straight into a flurry of instrumental attacks that ended with Super-Sonic Jazz. Propelled by blasts of sound from his french horn, blazed across the supermarket battering Stryker the whole way, and burst out into the street to continue the fight with a sizable life lead.

Nightingale, who’d taken cover at the first sign of trouble, rose up to open fire on Band with his shotgun while his back was turned. It was a clean shot through the hole left by Super-Sonic Jazz, but as Nightingale lined it up, Albedo sprang off the nearby countertop to drive his boot into the former FBI agent’s face. “Agh!” he grunted, quickly returning the favor and bodily kicking the alchemist to the ground as the much smaller man swung his sword. His shotgun unleashed its thunderous report, and though hastily aimed, it still managed to deal a heavy wound to Albedo’s right thigh. His face tightened, but he made no sound, and with the help of a Solar Isotoma he rose to his feet. A charged attack augmented further with the Isotoma’s coordinated attack staggered Nightingale enough to prevent a second blast once he pumped his shotgun. Albedo attempted a deadly reprisal with a thrust to center mass, but his blade’s point stuck on his foe’s ribs. It was a dangerous and volatile situation for both of them, but more so for Albedo, and he knew it. “Moment of birth!” he rasped, unleashing his stored Geo energy to call forth a Tectonic Tide and level the playing field. The shotgun flew from his enemy’s hands as the crystalline expulsion knocked him back, but immediately he reached for his pistol. Albedo grit his teeth and moved in. If he could keep Nightingale suppressed he could steal victory, but one wrong move would mean a bullet somewhere he couldn’t afford to have one. This was going to be tough.

By the time Midna woke up well past 6 the next day it seemed like everyone had rolled back into the office while she had been out like a light all night. She resisted the temptation to spite the morning sun and stay hidden under the covers. Mostly. Her trip to the bathroom could well have caused a spook or two as she drifted over there with her blanket wrapper around and over herself like a bedsheet ghost.

There in she freshened up, after which she realized that she was out of clean clothes. Again. There hadn’t exactly been time to do laundry yesterday, so her hoodie and mix and match fusion apparel were still dirty, and her new suit was, well it was basically ruined by gashes and blood stains.

”Urgh, I got beat up a lot yesterday huh?”

Still, at least, she could use this as self assurance that her harbinger fusion had worked out as intended. She was now quite the tough cookie. That said, she thought, it would not hurt to think about ways to get hit a bit less going forwards.

Still, that thought did nothing to solve her current predicament, which she did her best to resolve going forwards: ”What kind of princess doesn’t have a wardrobe after all”

”Not that this load of tat is going to solve the issue. Going to have to go clothes shopping so i don’t have to go rummaging around for leftovers” she complained to herself as she rummaged around and eventually pulled out a fairly formal button up Cardigan and matching skirt and bow from the collection, groaned at how plain it was, and then put it on anyway.

After that she rolled back over to her sleeping spot, acquired and donned her helmet (and also picked up the previous evening’s spoils) and then followed the sound of activity in the meeting room, as well as the smell wafting out of it.

She helped herself to some coffee and donuts, though her loose lips couldn't help but snipe ”Wouldn’t exactly call this substantial fighting fuel” at the choice of fare, only for her to take a sip of the coffee and for her medieval ass to be blasted by the amount of caffeine in it

”Fffff-, ok never mind I take it back” she was forced to admit, before proceeding to tentatively sip at the drink throughout the rest of their talk.

Given the gradual building effect it had on her, it was probably for the best that she said her piece close to the start of it, going in for some much more rambling talk after Benedict‘s own far more efficient words.

”We got a good look at two of the three crisis yesterday, and, well, they aren’t exactly pleasant” the princess said, visibly shuddering as what had happened to the children, and almost happened to them, shoved itself to the forefront of her mind unbidden.

”We have the Other, who were a numerous bunch of freaks and pretty hard to put down to boot if you can’t get them to pop out these ‘lightbulb’ looking weak spots” she said, relaying one of their foe’s weaknesses

”And then there were the chimeras, who are like ghosts in this world, and come from another full of floating islands. Both they and their realm corrupt people into monsters, which is why I am hesitant to do anything with this” she plopped the ominous red spirit of Enceladus down onto the table ”Despite the fact that using chimeras seems like the best way to fight other chimeras. It’s how Neuron does it, though theirs are blue and some seem to be able to ‘blueshift’ in-order to undo ‘redshifting’, at least before the mutation takes hold. So we might want to just hold onto it, if we are going to look into joining them, see if we can apply whatever they do to theirs to this one.”

”As for what we should do today, well, I think Psych-OSF were doing some kind of operation in tunnels outside of town? Trying to cull off a lingering infestation of Others I think. We might want to shadow them, just in case anything goes wrong and our infiltrators get into trouble, though given that some of our faces are known to them already, and how they don’t want ‘civilians’ fighting the Other, we may need to get clever to avoid being flagged as criminals for trying to help or something absurd like that. Disguises or something maybe?” she suggested, remembering in that moment that she had her X-Naut Uniform which could work for just such a purpose. Though she would probably have to vary up her fighting style so as to avoid being pegged by it alone, which would be tricky.

”If we’re already ‘walking on eggshells’ then that kind of thing might help regardless. Means we can’t mess up Peach, Sakura and Raz’s whole deal by ending up with them being associated with enemies of the state” though she was aware it was maybe a bit too late for that kind of ploy.

”Other than that, could I set up portals at our 2 hideouts, or even link us up with our home base as well? Last one would take a little while, I would need to take a metro tunnel, but it could definitely be worth our while resources wise” see suggested, before adding ”Plus we could check out and see if these psifish things which are around the other base are worth anything spirit wise while I’m at it. Might be a way of getting more people psychic powers and into Psych-OSF if we want to keep going that route” unaware that a lot of things about the otherworldly creatures made them very unsuitable fusion targets.

That was all she had really, and so after the princess leaned back in her chair and got increasingly more fidgety as the caffeine overdose started to take hold.

Ace delt with Barq and Byte, Red engaged Stryker; followed up by a baton pass from Big Band, Albedo went after Nightingale,

So what of Frisk?

She may have been struggling with her realized sense of inadequacy, but she really didn't intend to be stuck waiting for a window of opportunity again. She remained behind cover, peeking out to see Band take his fight with Stryker out into the streets and-

Frisk flinched at the sound of a shotgun being fired, and her eyes quickly widened at the sight of Albedo wounded. She would've rushed over to him if he hadn't immediately bounced back in retaliation. Her face twisted into a conflicted grimace. Come on, think! There's gotta be something you can do!

Then the alchemist managed to rid Nightingale of his shotgun.

...Well, she did concider stealing one of the cops' weapons.

Buckler shield raised in case Barq and Byte wanted to try and stop her, Frisk sprinted towards the shotgun and snatched it up. She took aim at Nightingale. "MOVE!!" Was her only warning to Albedo before she fired. Any further time wasted would've given the officer time to act. Like hell she'd let that happen.

The morning finally came. Roxas was groggy for the first bit of it. But the smell of breakfast had a way of energizing just about anyone. So by the time Roxas was eating a doughnut and drinking a glass of OJ, he was pretty well awake and feeling better. He listened for a little bit as others conversed around him. They were also introduced to Vernon, who was the person that was absent from yesterday's meeting. Which meant that everyone was here, exactly what Roxas was hoping for.

Goldlewis and Vernon were getting caught up on events, with Benedict joining in the conversation as well. And Midna offered some suggestions of her own, but ones that weren't the same as the ones she had yesterday. It was here that Roxas figured he should probably interject. He gulped down the last bit of his OJ and cleared his throat, "Personally, I think you had the right idea yesterday, Midna." he told her in reference to her Mercenary suggestion from the last meeting.

"It gives me an idea of my own, actually." he said, clearing his throat a bit louder to make himself heard, "Benedict is right, we have to walk on eggshells around Psych-OSF and others. That's why..." he considered his words, "That's why instead of trying to find a foothold, we should just make one ourselves." he hoped the comparison made sense, and then looked over in Midna's direction.

"Remember what you said yesterday? I say we go with that plan. Instead of trying to stress ourselves over allying with the factions, we should just become one of our own. That way we can do things our way and not have to restrict ourselves to whatever red tape the other factions would likely weigh us down with." after a brief pause he continued, "Though maybe calling ourselves mercenaries would be a bit much. Instead what if we become like those genius detectives in mystery novels? The kind who can take down the criminal organization because he isn't weighed down by the restrictions or regulations that the police operate under?"

He rubbed his chin in thought, "Huh, you know a 'detective' might be easier for people to trust than a 'mercenary'. Since a detective can be someone who will help you out with your case no matter how big or small it is. People might, I dunno, relate to it?" and as he spoke another idea came to him, "And helping people would help us establish relations and connections we could potentially tap too, right?" He glanced around to gauge reactions or responses.

With a lack of funds, there wasn't all that much the King of Evil really do. As such, he eventually wandered out of the marketplace and found himself exploring the amusement park district. He did vaguely recall someone mentioning something about a circus but that held nothing of interest for Ganondorf. Instead the sight of a few signs that advertised a fighting competition caught his eye. In particular the part about winning prize money for performing well enough. When he followed them, the Gerudo eventually found an open manhole cover. Above that was a wooden structure holding signs on each side. In large red letters, they read 'The Thorn' and even had arrows pointing straight down.

"A fighting arena... in the sewer?" Ganondorf asked himself aloud. It was only after that he realized he wasn't alone.

"Indeed, stranger." spoke a sultry voice. It came from a red-haired woman, clad in brown leather clothes and an unfamiliar-looking weapon strapped to her back, "Not everyone in the City of Tears condones fighting for sport in the way that the The Thorn does. Some bars have attractions for sparring, but it always with blunted weapons and padded safety gear. Here in the Thorn, we prefer battles that are fought in the way they were intended to be. With blood spilled. So tell me, stranger, does The Thorn interest you?" she was coming on slightly strong, but only because she could tell how good of a competitor the man would be based on his size and physique.

"And the prize for winning?"

"Money, of course. Some fight for the fortune, others for the glory. The Thorn offers both. Win your matches and you will build up an ever increasing payout for yourself. Before any round, you're given an opportunity to retire and keep your winnings, or continue and try to increase it. But if you are knocked out at any time, you will walk away with only half of the winnings you accrued, or none of it at all if you lose early enough."

Ganondorf didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. The smile forming in his lips told the woman all she needed to hear.

...

"Good people of the City of Tears, WELCOME, to The Thorn!" The enthusiastic announcer declared. Down in the pit, Ganondorf was waiting on the other side of his gate, "We've got an interesting first match up for tonight's King Of The Pit event: some fresh meat! Two newcomers to The Thorn looking to make a name for themselves. For those who joining us for the first time, the rules are simple. The winner of this wound will have the option to continue fighting more opponents in order to increase his prize. Killing is strictly not allowed, but the clerics on standby with their Rescue Staves to prevent any accidental deaths. Now, who will prevail? Let's find out! Lower the gates!"



The gates lowered and Ganondorf took a single step out into the pit from his starting position. He'd been sizing up his first opponent and it was easy to tell that they were practically nothing compared to him. They looked like a penguin, or at least someone in a penguin costume. Thy bounded forward on their peg legs, looking drunk and like they really had no business being here. But no matter what this person's story was, the fact of the matter was they were Ganondorf's opponent, and he had no intention of taking it easy on them.

The Prinny pulled a machete out of his pack, "Who's gun'na be keeng, [hic] THIS DOOD!" he took several drunken swings at Ganondorf, who frankly barely even needed to move in order to avoid them. Eventually the Prinny was caught by wrist, and yelped when Ganondorf squeezed just tight enough to cause some pain and force them to drop the machete, and was then promptly flung aside.

"Hmph! What a poor excuse for an opponent." and then he briefly turned his attention to the spectators, "Am I a joke to you? Is this the best your city can produce?" that netted him a mixture of boos and cheers. Mostly boos because he just insulted the city, but there were some who were enjoying the show and cheering regardless. Meanwhile, the Prinny had pulled a bomb out of nowhere and tried to chuck it at Ganondorf. But the King of Evil just kicked it back in the direction of his opponent. It was a good thing those rescue staves were on standby, because if they hadn't teleported the Prinny out of there he probably would have been killed by his own bomb going off in his face.

"Good people, we have a winner!" declared the announcer, "All hail Ganondorf! But will he continue to fight on?"

Ganondorf lifted his hand and offered a thumbs up. He'd been told earlier that a thumbs up meant he would fight another round, and that a thumbs down meant that he was going to retire. An opponent like that wasn't even remotely satisfying enough for him, so he was going to continue on.



...

As Ganondorf waited for the next round to begin, he started sizing up his next opponent. He looked to be a purple-skinned sorcerer of some kind. Likely weak in physical combat but probably able to wield powerful magics that would prove dangerous if he wasn't swiftly dealt with. But perhaps if he became overwhelmed by numbers? A strategy formed in the Gerudo's mind as he returned his attention to the announcer's voice.

"Might vs Magic, who will prevail? Lower... the gates!"



Neither combatant wasted any time. The Dark Seer stepped forward already channeling a spell. As for Ganondorf, he maintained a distance and cast a spell of his own. Turned out he wasn't just all muscle, as this Dark Seer was about to learn. Before the Dark Seer could fathom what kind of magic Ganondorf possessed, a squad of Moblins appeared out of a brief puff of dark clouds and smoke. They carried spears and ran forward in unison with their weapons pointed forward.

While the mage wasn't expecting to deal with a small infantry charge, he wasn't caught completely off guard. He simply aimed his spell at the charging Moblins, using it to push them aside and send them crashing into the nearby pit wall. One of them disappeared in a puff of smoke, but the rest re-oriented themselves and started closing in on the mage. Ganondorf, meanwhile, chose to watch for now and didn't appear to take any action just yet. But the Dark Seer was not helpless. He was able to use his vacuuming magic to rearrange the positions of the Moblins, resulting in two of them being skewered by the spears of their compatriots and similarly vanishing in a puff of smoke. Then the Dark Seer used magic to fling the remaining two back into the wall and defeating them.

But he wasn't out of the woods yet. He turned and saw his actual opponent lunging toward him with the white sword drawn and poised to outright skewer him. The Dark Seer used his magic to try and push back Ganondorf, and this appeared to even work for a few moments. But the King of Evil kept pushing, the triangle on his right hand giving him more strength as he eventually began pushing through the Dark Seer's magic. When close enough he shot out a leg and kicked the mage to knock him off balance. And then without any hint of hesitation he brought his blade down with a strike that absolutely would have lopped the mage's head off. But it nothing but air, due to the clerics on standby with their rescue staves.

"Good people, we have a winner. All hail GANONDORF!"

Ganondorf flourished the white sword in victory and then offered another thumbs up to signal his desire to continue forward, "Ha ha ha! Come now, City of Tears, give me a REAL challenge!"



...

Like previously, Ganondorf used the moments behind the gate to try to size up his next opponent. He was a centaur in green armor and carried a mighty-looking bow. Ganondorf was somewhat reminded of the centaur-like Lionels that were spoken of in the stories and legends of his own home world. Perhaps this Chiron would finally be the one to give the King of Evil a challenge?

"Who will prevail? Lower... the gates!"



The centaur didn't dawdle. He galloped out into the pit and around it's outer edge, seemingly hugging the wall. It seemed his strategy was to force Ganondorf to the center where he could circle around and pelt him with arrow after arrow. Surprisingly enough, Ganondorf indulged the centaur briefly. He made a dodge roll forward and positioned himself close to the pit's center. With one hand he used the white sword deflect an incoming arrow from Chiron. And with his free hand, Ganondorf prepared a spell.

It had already been more than a minute and so Ganondorf was able to conjure himself another squad of Moblins. Unlike the first group these were archers, readying their bows and fire arrows, "Form up and fire on my command!" immediately the Moblins scrambled into a line and aimed their bows. Naturally, Chiron wasn't about to just wait for them to take their shots and was already aiming an arrow to take out one of the Moblins. But when the centaur fired his shot, the arrow itself was met only by Ganondorf's blade, him having lunged into position to deflect the shot and protect the Moblin Archer. Then he held his sword straight up as a signal for the Moblins to take aim.

After his shot was deflected, the centaur scrambled to ready another. But he also had to interrupt himself when he himself came under fire. He could avoid shots by speeding up his gallop to throw off the timing of the shots, or by hitting breaks and rearing himself back to try and avoid running right into a volley. In one case he even used his bow itself to bat away an enemy fire arrow from striking him. This... kinda left the two combatants at a stalemate of sorts. The moblins loosening their volleys on command, combined with Ganondorf himself deflecting incoming shots from Chiron's bow left the two at a kind of impasse.

Ganondorf had to admit that this centaur was indeed finally giving him a challenge. The sorcerer from the previous round might have had it not been for Moblins giving Ganondorf a numbers advantage. And that penguin thing? Hardly even worth mentioning. This opponent, however, he clearly knew what he was doing. Of course the King of Evil had no intention of saying so aloud.

For Chiron's part, he too had to admit that his opponent was quite competent. The man was clearly a warrior, but could also dabble in spells and was, even now, showing that he was also a capable commander. Chiron surmised that this man, whoever he was, had likely fought on many bloody battlefields in the past, "I must say, Ganondorf: your prowess in the art of war is impressive, indeed!" he called out, not afraid to compliment the skills of his opponent, "I've trained many soldiers and commanders in my time, but I don't believe any of them compare to the likes of you."

"Ha! Your compliment is appreciated, but hardly necessary!" the Gerudo called back in response, "Flattery will get you nowhere in this battle, centaur! Fire!" as soon as he commanded, his moblin archers loosed another volley. As soon as they did, Ganondorf went on the move. Unlike all the previous exchanges, the King of Evil used this momentary distraction to make a dash for the galloping centaur's path and used the strength of his legs to leap up on the back of his horse-half.

Chiron immediately knew something was amiss when he noticed Ganondorf no longer among the archers he commanded. Before he knew it he felt something heavy press down his back and instantly knew he'd been mounted by his opponent. He galloped as fast as he could, even charging through the line of moblin archers and trampling right over them. He even tried to purposefully slam his body into the walls of the pit, trying everything to throw the Gerudo man from his back.

But Ganondorf's strength was second to none. He held firm, refusing to be thrown. Soon he wrapped his around the centaur's human neck for an arm-lock, even channeling the Triforce to strengthen his hold. The centaur slammed and bucked and kicked with all his might, but slowly began to weaken from the lack of oxygen. Before long, he was teleported away to save him from passing out entirely.

"Good people, we have a winner! All hail... GANONDORF!"

As before, Ganondorf offered another thumbs up. He would keep going still.



...

When Ganondorf sized up his next opponent, well... he had to admit that this one was definitely strange. It was some kind of... lizard? A lizalfos, maybe? Ganondorf doubted that, since this looked too different to be a Lizalfos, and even if it was... it would never have the courage to attack the man its tribe had sworn loyalty to. So whatever this creature was, it was likely not from Ganondorf's world. Well, whether person or beast, no opponent would frighten the King of Evil.

"Man vs Beast! Who will prevail? Lower... the gate!"



Riptor was fast, incredibly fast. She darted out from her starting position with inhuman speed. Ganondorf tried to keep an eye on her, but she darted back forth and proved difficult to keep track of. When she finally attacked, she leaped up and brought her tail crashing down on Ganondorf with a forward somersault. The segmented armor allowed the tail to be used as a powerful blunt weapon.

Ganondorf, being of a bulkier build, could not move out of the way of the incoming tail. It slapped him pretty hard, staggering him back a step. He had to think fast and use the white sword to swing at the creature before she could lunge at him with her mouth full of razor sharp teeth. She also made swift forward kicks with her glowing claws that also proved difficult to deal with. She managed a few nasty slashes on Ganondorf's arms and shoulder. But he did manage to get lucky and caught her by the throat in one of her lunges, and was able to hurl her away from him to give himself a moment of breathing room.

But he had to think fast. She was already on the move again and would be all over him in seconds unless he did something fast. Since it had been a full minute, Ganondorf hurriedly cast his spell to summon the Moblins. These were spearmen who likely wouldn't stand much of a chance against this half-beast/half-machine creature, but they would at least keep her busy for a bit. While the beast tore apart the moblins, Ganondorf watched her movements. He saw her spit a gout of fire on one of his minions, so that was something he'd have to watch out for. He also saw her use her tail like a drill of sorts, watching her run it through a moblin like a spinning skewer. Just what was thing, exactly? It looked and used fire breath like a dinalfos, but it was clearly something different altogether.

Soon enough the moblins were gone. Ganondorf's breather was over and he'd have to get back into the fight himself. But at least he was able to see a few of this creature's tricks and could watch out for them. Riptor made a fast dash for Ganondorf and attempted a powerful pounce. But the King of Evil had a trick or two of his own. Instead of using his weapon, he made a fist and attacked with an uppercut motion, managing to cut off Riptor's attempted attack with his Gerudo Dragon technique. The uppercut slammed into the creature's lower jaw and briefly sent her sprawling. But she was quick to scramble back to her feet and go on the attack.

This time she tried to spear Ganondorf with her tail-drill. But she did not count on the unmatched strength of Ganondorf's arms. He actually managed to catch the drill in his arms with the power of the Triforce. Then he spun himself around and hurled the beast, sending her slamming hard into the wall of the pit's edge. That seemed to briefly knock the wind out of her. And so Ganondorf used the chance to charge forward and slide at her with his Warlock Kick. That also connected and of course hammered the creature back into the wall again. Ganondorf held up his white sword and with a warcry thrust it forward toward the creature. But he instead hit nothing but air. The rescue staves had pulled the beast out of the pit before a deathblow could be dealt.

"Good people, we have a winner! All hail... GANONDORF!"

Ganondorf breathed a bit heavier. That creature, whatever she was, had nearly caught him off guard. It was a pity he didn't have such a creature to serve him, in fact. But after only a moment more of thought, Ganondorf thrust his arm up and offered yet another thumbs up.



...

It wasn't hard to size up Ganondorf's next opponent. The octopus woman in question was quite large in stature, mostly due to her massive tentacles, but even without those she would probably still be a match for the Gerudo's own height.

"It seems Ganondorf has has the unfortunate luck of drawing the attention of our very own Barbary! The self-proclaimed Queen of the Thorn has famously gone twenty whole rounds without losing! Does the newcomer stand even a ghost of a chance at dethroning her? Let's find out! Lower... the gate!"



Neither combatant wasted time. Ganondorf went charging out with the white sword drawn. Meanwhile Barbary made her entrance by leaping high up and then crashing back down to the floor. The Gerudo had to dive back out of the way to avoid getting crushed under weight. She lashed at the King of Evil with her massive tentacles, but their size made them sluggish and easy to deflect with the white sword.

But then Barbary started throwing bombs, and Ganondorf had to repeatedly dive out of the way to avoid getting caught by the blasts, "Hehehe, not so fun when yer opponent is bigger'n ye are, is it, matey?" taunted the large octopus lady, her thick pirate accent making her sound even scrappier than she already looked.

"Grr..." Ganondorf was beginning to get frustrated. She was leaving him very little room to strike back. And her throwing of bombs was beginning to remind of a certain Hero who was known for doing very much the same thing. And that just made his blood boil even more. After their cat-and-mouse game went on for a few moments longer, Ganondorf suddenly drew his other sword and began to dual-wield his weapons. This allowed him to more easily deflect multiple blows, and could perhaps also grant him a much-needed opening to attack so long as he didn't let up.

When it looked like he finally had a chance, Ganondorf went on the offensive. He jumped up and then pushed himself off of a tentacle after avoiding it's attack. With a short series of jumps from her attacking tentacles after deflecting them with his heavy blades, it finally looked as if Ganondorf could get an attack at her main body. But then she went into a rapid spin, causing her tentacles to whirl around like some kind of protective shield that knocked the Gerudo back and tumbling back down to the ground.

But before he landed, she nabbed him out of the air with one of her tentacles. This caused him to drop his weapons. Then, Barbary held him up close to get a good look at his face... and began to squeeze, "Ye best yield, matey. Before yer bones end up breakin'!" she said with a mean grin on her face.

Ganondorf grimaced, so far managing to not show the pain he was currently feeling. But if he didn't do something he'd get pulled out of the pit by those blasted clerics and then lose the prize he'd been fighting so hard to build up, "Grr... argh!" the Gerudo began to struggle, resulting in Barbary squeezing tighter. No. No, he was not going to lose here. He refused! Ganondorf roared in a mixture of pain and wrath. And his Triforce began to glow with more power. Somehow, despite her larger size, Barbary began to feel her grip on the Gerudo wane. He was actually managing to overpower her tentacle.

And with a mighty cry of anger, the King of Evil finally broke free. He seemingly exploded from her grip, and was now in a perfect position to strike back thanks to her earlier arrogance in holding him up to her face. He dropped down on her with an aerial Warlock Kick that struck her across the face and staggered her. Then after landing, The King of Evil clenched his fist and charged in with a powerful Warlock Punch while she was still recovering from the stagger. That slammed her into the wall of the pit, even doing a bit of structural damage to it. Ganondorf leaped with the intention of hitting her with another Warlock Punch, but she was teleported out of the pit before she could be hit by it.

"Good people! It seems Barbary has finally been dethroned! All! Hail! GANONDORF!"

Ganondorf was quite winded himself. Between this and the claw attacks he took from Riptor, he wasn't certain he could continue on without it becoming a liability. So, he made his decision and offered the crowd a thumbs down. He was done for the night.



...

A bit later, Ganondorf was exiting the Amusement Park District. Thankfully the clerics in the Thorn healed him up before he left, so he was back to being no worse for wear. Now he was counting up his payout, which he found was a total of 2,350 geo. A nice prize, indeed, and now he could surely buy himself some upgrades.

He made his way back to the marketplace, hurrying along because the evening was beginning to become late. He found a blacksmith shop and entered it. Inside was a stout-looking skeleton.

"Just so you know, this ain't some library. If you're not here to do any business, then begone with you. I'm here to smith, not to chitchat."

With a smirk, Ganondorf dropped his bag of geo onto the smith's table, "Business is exactly why I'm here. What kind of work can you do on my weapons for that amount?" he asked, also placing both of his swords on the counter next to the bag of geo.

"Ah, well now..." said the skeleton, moving to examine the swords, "Not bad, not bad... but definitely room for some improvement." then he inspected the bag of geo, as if mentally counting how much was there, "Hmm, well it's not exactly cheap, but for this much I could maybe give these weapons an infusion, perhaps. A man your size could certainly benefit from a heavy infusion."

"And what does this 'heavy infusion' do?" asked Ganondorf, his curiosity piqued.

"It adds a certain... weight to the weapon. Make 'em hit harder so long as you got the muscle to do it. And you certainly look like you could benefit from that."

"Hmm... I see." Ganondorf rubbed his chin, considering the option. Then he made his decision, "Yes, very well. Give my weapons this heavy infusion, then. I trust that payment is enough for you?"

"Looks that way, yes." said the smith, snatching the geo and then grabbing both swords to take them back to his workshop, "This'll take me some time. I suggest you come back for your swords in the morning, should be ready by then. I'm Vamos, by the way."

"And I am Ganondorf. Very well then, Vamos, I'll leave them to you then." Ganondorf responded, "I'll return first thing in the morning."

With the battle over, Blazermate made sure to heal up everyone who needed it, giving a sigh that it was over. "I was confident Tora could deal with all of that Poppi. He is a tanky boy and I can see how much damage people are taking." Blazermate said, affirming why she helped Susie before ubering Poppi to finish off the big horrible monster. Although she wasn't sure about Benedict and Giovanna, but they did well and weren't too hurt. Overheal helps a lot though, especially for frontliners. If only she had this when she did robattles, it would change the outcome of so many fights....

Susie meanwhile came up to Poppi, saying. "I could make use of that Chemtrail spirit. Having a big destructive distraction like that would help. For some reason my business suit is acting a bit differently than it normally does. Its annoying to adapt to, but I suppose the trade off has been helpful." Susie said, not so subtly hinting that she would prefer a striker to take the heat off of her when in a duel so she could be more offensive, not defensive, with her business suit. With her cockpit exposed, she has had to guard herself more than attack like she preferred which was more than a bit annoying.

Still, they all had to get out of there, and the two bots followed Giovanna back to the base, where they got some rest. Although the two robot ladies not needing much time to rest at all, Susie got to doing some work on her PDA. Considering how this city had a network and everything, at some point she would need to hack into it to get some information. Blazermate meanwhile made sure the other group who had come from their excursion with the psychic ops were healed up and all of that.

As the group discussed what they were going to do, having met the various factions of the city and the ever crisis, A few ideas were thrown around. The main one being they should all just make their own agency. While there were agreements on this, Susie had to put a damper on those plans. "That was my original plan Roxas, but Giovanna told us that there were many permits and systems you had to go through in order to make that work. Stuff that would take a very, very long time to get done. How would you all suggest we get around that red tape?" Susie waited a bit for some ideas or replies before giving her own.

"Considering this place runs on technology, I could perhaps hack into it and see what is going on. Perhaps find a way to expedite the process. Could clear up the whole mess that we were involved in yesterday or shift the blame while I'm at it, if Its possible. All I would require is an access point."

Blazermate really didn't have too much to add to the conversation. She was more of the 'fight or heal' type of girl. She did ask something that was on her mind though. "Say, about that whole 'walking on eggshells' sorta thing. Is there like, some secret police or something that would investigate two turks going missing or something in a single day? Couldn't that be a huge issue for us? Like someone way above the G men? They don't really seem like a threat when they aren't turning into those demon things, so there has to be some really big fish somewhere, right?"

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



With the closure of the circus show Sectonia had caught, she grabbed the knight as it was getting late. Having not eaten since yesterday aside from the snacks on offer at the theatre, Sectonia stopped to grab something to eat. Being a city of bugs, she could easily find fruits, honey, and other sweets to munch on as she moved through the city, finding a tasty honey glazed doughnut that was said to be imported. If it wasn't so late, she would have preferred to visit a store before turning in for the night, but only the seediest of stores and the pawn shop were open at this hour, so she decided against it.

There were a few hotels Sectonia passed by, but for a queen of her stature, she would only take the biggest one. (Plus she doubted the smaller ones could even accommodate her, but she wouldn't say that out loud.) Those walking alongside her would see a rare sight, Sectonia practicing. Sure it was just her seeing what shapes she could make with her new power over fire and seeing if she could make some beauty out of the falling rain and her new fire, but it was something. If she remembered right, she had fused with a spirit that made fire horrid. It was a good thing she wasn't fused with that now, otherwise acquiring her fire breath power would've been far more painful than it already was.

Finding the biggest hotel in the city, Sectonia had found that Nadia had already signed in. The girl knew what was up, but how did she find the money? Last Sectonia knew, she was totally broke. Well, either way, Sectonia paid for her own room and got some beauty sleep, hopefully forgetting about the horrid horrid trial she had endured not a few hours ago. Still, she wasn't greeted with great dreams thanks to that.

With the fight winding down with Chemtrail’s destruction, Zenkichi was finally allowed to get to his feet when Geralt sheathed his blade. While he was dusting himself off, Giovanna came over, gave a quick ‘This is much more important than you realize’ speech, and gave him the address of their hideout. They really were trusting him on this. Unless it was a trap, of course, but the things he’d remembered…no, this…this was real. At least, as real as anything got here. Where even was here? Midgar? He’d never even heard of a city like this on Earth. They certainly didn’t have this kind of technology anywhere.

No, this was real. He needed to….he needed to do a lot of things. Was Akane even safe? Would Konoe even consider Zenkichi a threat? Did he remember their real lives, before this place? And what was with that weird, hyphenated name?

Shaking his head, Zenkichi sighed. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” He said, thoughts still going a mile a minute. Geralt, meanwhile, nodded at the Persona User and ran off with Giovanna and the other Seekers, taking the sky-rails away.

Sighing and jogging from the scene of the crime, Zenkichi headed home with fears, worries, and a dozen half-baked plans in his mind. He had to make sure Akane was safe, first and foremost.

---

Things with Akane went…in a word, poorly. Not poorly enough that she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, but suddenly explaining to your resentful daughter that you magically understood all of the issues she’d had with your behavior since your wife’s death and were now going to be the perfect hero of justice typically wasn’t met with cheers and immediate belief. No, Zenkichi knew that he’d have to earn his daughter's trust all over again, but he was willing to do that. What he was less willing to do was ignore the red glowing of her eyes, and the mutedness of…her everything. It disturbed him, and his first order of business was undoing whatever had been done to her.

Or, well, getting Giovanna and Benedict and their new friends to do that. He just hoped it didn’t require getting as thoroughly thrashed as he’d been before that double sword guy had done whatever he did last night. Some of that was still blurry, hazy. A lot of things were, but other memories were much more clear, like the Phantom Thieves. God, was he worried about those damn kids, too. But he had to trust that they could take care of themselves. And, he had a vague recollection of one of the robots they had with them mentioning Joker, Panther, and others with similar powers. No way that was a coincidence, they must have run into the Thieves.

So, as Zenkichi entered the SOU Hideout with his daughter in tow to see the assembled Seekers, Geralt included, he came out swinging. ”Before I hear out anything you are planning, you need to do whatever the hell it is you did to me for my daughter. Make her remember. Remember everything.” Akane’s reaction to this was, honestly, predictable: confusion and anger.

“I’m sorry, remember what exactly? How we had to move Districts after mom died so you could play cop and hide like a coward? And how are these…people…” Akane’s tirade cut off when she realized who exactly was in the room: Vernon Groubitz himself. “Dad? Why…why is he here? Isn’t he one of them?! They killed mom! You just told me that these people would help us, but he’s ONE OF THEM!” Zenkichi desperately grabbed Akane’s shoulders as she tried to point at the former President, kneeling and looking into her eyes, trying not to cringe at the redness inside them.

”Akane, honey, please, I need you to listen to me. These people know more about what’s happening in Midgar than anybody. I trust them. I trust Benedict. And…honestly, I don’t have much else left to do. I got demoted yesterday. This morning, technically. This…this is our last chance, Akane. To get justice for Aoi and for everybody else those bastards have hurt. Please. I know I’ve screwed up, over and over since she died…but I promise, this time is for real. Please, Akane.”

Clearing his throat, Geralt took a few steps forward. “Normally, removing Galeem’s influence requires…pain. Physical injury. I think we can get around it, though. Roxas, you managed to free somebody before without hurting them, right? With those…keyswords you have? I didn’t get a good glimpse, but would you be able to do it again?” In typical old man fashion, Geralt messed up the name of the Keyblades, but still got the jist of it. Whether he was doing it on purpose or not would remain a mystery. Thankfully, Roxas could do it, but he warned them that it wasn’t pleasant.

Akane looked around, realizing that these weren’t typical government types that her father had shacked up with, confused and a little scared. “W…what does he mean, dad? Why do they need a sword? Why…what’s going on?!” With the only options being her screw-up of a father and big, scary, armed people (including some robots, what looked like a kid only a few years older than her, and a weird floating person-thing), she defaulted to the one person she knew for protection.

”It’s…complicated. And I don’t actually know all the details. It’s why I came here, to get more answers. But somebody is messing with our heads. Like Akane did before.”

Expectedly to all but Zenkichi, this only confused Akane more, who was about to speak when Geralt cut her off. “I think it’s best we leave the explanations for after Roxas takes care of this. It’s…like mind control. You can’t understand that it’s being done to you until it’s over. She’s only going to get more upset and confused if we keep talking about it.” Geralt was speaking in a softer tone than the others were used to hearing from him, his paternal instincts on full display, unbeknownst to him.

Akane, meanwhile, was nearing a full-blown panic attack, causing Zenkichi to hug her close, gently rubbing her back and rocking her side to side for a minute or two until she calmed down, before standing up. ”Alright. Let’s…do this, I guess.”

With a warning to hold her, and that things would get rough before it was done, Zenkichi stood behind his daughter, who started to thrash side to side when Roxas summoned Oathkeeper, and pressed it into her chest, causing a bright light to begin glowing from the point of contact. Akane cried out, causing Zenkichi to almost loosen his grip, but he doubled down, wrapping his arms tighter around her as she screamed and thrashed, and Geralt stood behind Roxas, ready to keep him up if the process proved as exhausting to the boy as it had been last time. The light grew brighter and brighter still, watering the eyes of all who looked on it.

After a short while, the light abated, and Akane slumped in her father’s arms, exhausted and panting, memories slowly coming back to her, while Roxas heaved a sigh and took a seat, a little winded but not much worse for wear all things considered.

Zenkichi hefted Akane up in his arms and plopped her down in one of the chairs, taking a donut for each of them, and coffee for himself. ”I’ll start with the bad news: I’ve been demoted to Petty Officer. My own fault. I got too focused on you all, and let the target I was following get away. They…it’s bad. They stole classified information and returned it to the Machines. Public Security thinks they’re gonna attack today. This morning. They’re planning to keep it under wraps and let DespoRHado take the blame. Disgusting…I can’t believe this is the justice I was fighting for. At least Japan wasn’t nearly this bad…but this damn city…it’s sick. It’s sick from the inside out. I still believe in the rule of law, but PubSec is compromised from the top down. Which brings me to another problem…Akira Konoe.” Zenkichi’s attitude became even more serious, if that were possible, and he put both hands on the table.

”I don’t know, exactly, what Galeem did. But Konoe being in charge of this city’s police means nothing good. He’s…he thinks he’s a hero. That he’s leading people into a brighter future, that he’s their only hope. He was brainwashing people by the millions in Japan, along with a researcher of Cognitive Psience, Ichinose. I…don’t actually know if she’s here, or working with him, or what, but if she is…it could be bad. And I need you to understand that I am not understating this when I tell you how bad it is. They made a god. An honest-to-goodness god, that could control people’s hearts and minds if they weren’t a Persona user. It took all of us to beat that thing, and it wasn’t easy. Maybe Galeem’s worse, but…he can’t be trusted. Not with PubSec, not with Midgar’s safety. But…the message I got indicated that the Southern Undercities would be the most likely target of the attack And that’s the most important thing right now. Helping those people.”

Pushing up a little from the table, he looked around. ”I’ve probably got more, but that’s all that’s coming to mind right now. Sorry.”

Geralt frowned, finishing the donut he’d taken. “Well, that makes two gods we have to kill then. Great. Gods I kill are usually a lot more local. Lot smaller, too.”

”He’s not kidding, is he?” Zenkichi deadpanned.

“Aren’t real gods. Monsters that fancy themselves gods, maybe. Monster hunter by trade. Mutated human called a Witcher. Fused with a couple Spirits a few days back, hence the claws, the height, the…weird things on my shoulders.” Geralt introduced himself.

”Uh…Public Security Investigator. From Japan. I have a Persona, called Valjean. It’s my inner self. The rebel in my heart, I think Mona called it?”

“Uh…huh. Alright, then. Big guy you summoned? So that’s not a Striker? You can just…do that?” Geralt asked. He never did learn too much from Joker and the others.

”Well, normally they can only appear in a special Cognitive World, called the Metaverse, but whatever this Galeem did…made it all real. Unless this is somehow the Metaverse…would explain why people dissolve into those weird Spirit things when they die…”

“I’m not going to pretend to understand any of that, but don’t go around thinking this world is any less real than the one you came from. Our job is to help people.” Geralt scolded.

”Oh, no! We, uh, only ever fought shadows really! Kind of..cognitive constructs. Intentionally killing a person’s shadow could kill them, but we didn’t do that. Murder isn’t our style. We stole their warped desires and freed their minds, giving people their conscience back and showing them the wrongs of their ways.” Zenkichi explained heroically.

“Sounds like mind control.” Geralt very bluntly retorted. “Tricky thing to mess around with. Not that I’m one to talk…” He muttered the last bit.

”Excuse you! Not mind control! We were freeing people from unhealthy psychological obsessions and traumas that were controlling their behaviors, letting them see past themselves to understand what their actions were doing! Everything after that was up to them! And we didn’t just do it to people we didn’t like, the Phantom Thieves only targeted people who were abusing their authority and harming people! Ugh, why am I even telling you people this…Joker’s gonna kill me…”

Geralt just chuckled at Zenkichi’s frantic defense of himself and the Phantom Thieves. “Relax. We already know them. Bit…guarded. Only ever use these odd names for themselves. But we’re on the same side, at least I think we are. They ran off last time our group all met up and we haven’t heard from them since, though it’s only been a day or two since then. Figure we’ll run into them again eventually.”

“Dad…did you just say you were a Phantom Thief? But the Phantom Thieves are so cool…” Akane mumbled from her seat, her donut finished and her mind still ringing from trying to mentally reconcile two lives.

”Way to make your old man feel bad, Akane…” Zenkichi mumbled, slumping.

"If you're done feeling sorry for yourself, we still have the problem of being arrested if we try to do anything." Geralt grumbled halfheartedly, crossing his arms.

"Uh, right, that. Sorry. So, as for starting your own agency, that...could maybe work, and having a skilled hacker might let you break in and backdate some paperwork making it all official. I might've been demoted, but I'm still a Public Security officer, so I could head to the office and try and get you access somewhere, though it'll have to be quick. As for me and Benedict going AWOL, well...to be honest, I'm not sure if they've even noticed Benedict being gone, but if they have, they're not making it obvious. I'm not the only one who got demoted yesterday, so they've gotta have some candidates in mind to replace us if they're clearing house like this." Zenkichi stroked his stubble with his thumb and index finger, thinking.

"Way I see it, I can make up some details, maybe blame my screw up on those gangsters you folks wiped out. Long as Khamsin doesn't try and clear the air, and I highly doubt he'd be caught dead answering to any PubSec investigators in any real capacity, I can keep my job for a few more days until they realize I'm actually going rogue. I'd prefer not to lose it completely, but...well, we've got bigger fish to fry right now. Though, I...gotta favor to ask. Is there somewhere safe for Akane to stay? This...isn't like before, where I was still technically in good standing with my bosses. If somebody gets wind that I'm working with you, I don't doubt that they'd go after her for a second. I already got threatened to back off my personal investigation before this." Zenkichi was really putting it all in their hands.

Geralt frowned at that, though he couldn't blame the man: he'd gone to much greater lengths to make sure Ciri was okay. "Midna, those portals of yours...they go anywhere we can be certain she'll be safe? Alcamoth would be better, but if it'd risk you going back through the Metro, we can't be sure if those cats are still after us or not."

It was nothing short of miraculous that the only thing Therion was feeling at the moment was a headache - physically, anyway. The nurses' bedside manner had been atrocious, and it was during a heated argument when the thief was about to walk out and take his chances with the sickness that he'd been stuck with a needle and sedated. He'd woken up pissed and groggy, but otherwise no worse for wear. Once more a certain, much more gentle apothecary came to his mind, but he shoved the thought away as he headed for the exit.

He should probably rendezvous with the others. That queen bee had told them to meet up at the city's clock tower, but he didn't care to follow that order at the moment.

In the main lobby, the helpful stranger in red was waiting. Therion didn't recall the man giving his name, but then again he hadn't asked either. Nor was he going to, though he did accept one of the bags of snacks as repentance for not giving a heads up about the weirdly aggressive nature of the medical staff.

"Yeah. I wouldn't recommend that trip to anyone," Therion responded flatly. He turned the plastic over in his hands, clearly unfamiliar with the product. There was a picture of some baked good on the outside of it, so he assumed that was what was inside. He squeezed the bag in both hands until it popped open with a puff of air. The noise surprised him, his cat ears sticking straight upright. Then, his ears flicked and tilted in the direction of the hall where he heard a set of footsteps approaching.

If Therion looked down the hall he would see a small black cat walking towards the group. Her owner, redressed and no longer bloodstained, idly lagged behind with his arms wrapped around himself. In all honesty, Omori hadn't been afraid of the nurses or the hospital's unorthodox practices. But something felt...off. He couldn't figure out what.

Therion wouldn't blame the kid if he wanted to give up the campaign now after the frankly hellish experience they'd just been through. After a few moments the thief called out, "Hey," to get Omori's attention and pointed to Ichiban next to him, who'd come bearing free snacks.

"Mm?" Omori glanced up to Therion, his eyes following where he pointed to towards the guy that guided them to this stupid hospital. He seemed to perk up at the sight of snacks. Might not heal anything, but he had to atleast get something in his stomach. The boy walked over to grab a random bag of chips, nodding to Ichiban in thanks.

A random bag of chips Omori was given indeed, an almost blank packet with two featureless shapes intersecting on the front. "The machine I got these from is kinda weird," Ichiban said, unprompted. "None of the snacks are name brand. Or any brand. They still taste good though."

Omori shrugged, inspecting the packet. "Probably potato chips." His warped voice speculated. To test the theory, he ripped the bag open and popped one chip into his mouth.

He felt a little bit better.

Mewo meanwhile was pawing at Therion's leg while they talked and ate. It was a wonder what she wanted. The thief's tail flicked back and forth impatiently as he ignored her, up until he felt the pin pricks of her claws as she started climbing his person. At that point he scooped the little cat up and tucked her under his arm, intending to pass her off to her owner.

Before that he turned his attention back to Ichiban. "By the way, the bag you were carrying. Some kind of potions? Where'd you get so many, someone selling them?"

He recalled the man saying he had to drop the stuff off at the sanitarium. If they were some kind of healing concoction, it would be good to stock up after the ordeal the Seekers had just gone through.

"Oh, those?" Ichiban hooked a thumb over his shoulder to nowhere in particular. "Nah, ain't nobody selling them. I hope not at least. They were property of the head doctor here, some experimental stuff, I didn't really understand most of it. Some guys ran off with a shipment of them, so I went to get 'em back for her."

Though it wasn't the answer Therion had been hoping for, it was still informative. This place was a city, so it made sense that their was some criminal element to it. There was someone getting their hands on useful items, they just weren't merchants. Not legitimate ones anyway.

"Thieves, huh? Wonder where they set up shop?" he asked anyway.

Ichiban shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Somehow they ended up in the sewers with some pretty nasty monsters. I didn't even catch whoever took them all, all I did was go down there and got them back."

An expression of intrigue flickered across Therion's face. It may not have been implied by Ichiban, but what the thief heard was that whatever opportunist had hijacked the doctor's goods had dumped it in the city's sewer, assuming it would be safe enough there to come back for - only for someone else to get it first. Monsters or not, there was a good chance that there were other ill gotten goods stashed down there. Although Therion wasn't looking for a battle, especially so soon after escaping the "womb," he was eager to work his muscles after the sanitarium's treatment rid him of the heaviness in his limbs and the grogginess in his brain. A quick trip to see if he could find anything of interest before retiring for the night sounded pretty good.

He nodded, acknowledging Ichiban's reply with a glint in his eye.

"Well thanks for the biscuits," he said, clearing gathering himself to leave the sanitarium. He realized he was still carrying Mewo (who had been trying to paw at his ears) and handed the cat to Omori before turning for the door.

"Hang on a minute!" Ichiban clasped Therion on the shoulder to stop him from just trekking off. "I know what you're thinkin' - that these sewers I'm talking about must be full of loot. And you'd be right." Ichiban let go, stepping around to get back in his view. "But you shouldn't go waltzing up down there on your own. You just got over being sick!"

"Key words being got over it."

"The rest of us haven't even popped back up yet." Omori added, not really concerned about their missing teammates as he probably should be.

"That bossy bee said to meet up at the clock tower so we'll just regroup later," Therion pointed out.

The boy furrowed his brows."I was refering to Primrose, Rubick, and that circus of self-proclaimed 'bad guys'." He clarified, sarcastic air quotes included.

"Because we went through a dungeon into a river of blood. We need to find a way back up to them, but before that, I'm doing this," Therion all but snapped, further souring Omori's mood in turn if that glare meant anything. Now that Ichiban had actually confirmed there were treasures to be found down there, he wasn't about to give up the chance to explore it a little. Who knew how many useful things he might find? "I know how to handle myself, alright?"

Ichiban looked up in thought, not quick to simply let Therion go. "Alright then." He nodded once. "Then I'll go with you!"

"Didn't I just say I don't need a babysitter?" the thief said, his tail swishing back and forth. A second look at the two with him and he added, "and I don't want to be one either."

"It ain't like that," Ichiban answered, the determinated stubborness clear on his face. "I know I can't talk ya outta going down in there, so I'm tagging along to help. Every dungeon dive needs the right party, don't it?"

Supressing the urge to make a quip aside, Omori's expression lightened up a little. "Look on the bright side: At least it'll be someone who knows his way around that place." He glanced at Ichiban for further confirmation. "Last thing we need is another one of us going missing..." He slightly frowned in thought.

It looked very much like Therion was going to keep objecting, his tail swaying exactly like an agitated cat's - but he ended up pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing loudly.

"Do whatever you want," he said, relenting.

Omori glanced around. "I should really look for somewhere I can sell some of this loot, but what the heck this place is kinda boring."

As Ichiban fell into line behind Therion, he piped up again. "By the way, I'm Ichiban. Ichiban Kasuga. Figure if we're going to go hunting for loot we should know each other, yeah?"

"...Therion."

"Omori." The monochrome boy introduced himself next. He then held Mewo up. "And Mewo."

"Meow."

It was just after introductions that Jesse emerged from the operation rooms and sauntered over. As luck would have it she requested a tour guide of sorts, and although Therion had just resigned himself to exploring with a tag-along or two, now he thought this was the perfect chance to go through with his original plan of going alone.

He grinned at the red head, and perhaps the expression looked weird on his face since he rarely did it. Nice save, Jesse.

"Yeah, actually, why don't you go with her instead?" the thief suggested, more than happy to exploit the out his fellow Seeker had unwittingly granted him. Then he turned right around and strode out of the lobby.

Unfortunately, this didn't force Omori to stay behind.

"Nice try, Stupid." He deadpanned, following behind Therion.

Scratching the back of his head, Ichiban gave Jesse an apologetic smile. "Oh, nah, I ain't a local like that. Been around for a bit but I don't know it that well. Y'should talk to Cornifer though, that guy loves mapping out places. I'm sure he knows some hot spots I don't." With a small salute he turned and hurried after Therion, truly snuffing out any plans the thief had for alone time.

"Hey, Therion. How come we got a, uhh, a kid comin' with us?"

The answer was something Therion hadn't thought much about since meeting Omori. "He's tougher than he looks," Therion replied, and left it at that.

---

Together the three of them left the sanitarium, heading back toward the heart of the city. After a jog through the rain they made it to the entrance of the Royal Waterways. They descended, Ichiban first, then Therion, then Omori (and Mewo). Once they were all out of the rain and into the sewer, they took in the tunnels beneath the Home of Tears. It was very similar to the infrastructure above - cool, dark colored cobblestone and brick. Iron embellishments completed the aesthetic, twinkling with dimly reflected light. There was water everywhere around them, but that didn't come as a surprise. It almost seemed to glimmer, mirroring the glow of some piping that twisted about the ceiling, lending just a little more light for the three to see by. From where they were all standing, the could see that the tunnels split off in different directions.

It was cleaner than a lot of other gutters Therion had found himself in. There hadn't been any further complaints from him just yet, instead he glanced at Ichiban. "Do you remember where the stash was?"

Ichiban scratched the back of his head, ruffling his messy perm as he looked around. "Uhhh. I think it was... maybe... down that way?" He pointed down a dark side-tunnel, ominous orange globs stuck at various parts of the brickwork. "Definitely somewhere with a lot of that glowy stuff."

Stepping over next to Ichiban, Omori shone his headlamp down the tunnel. "I don't think I want to know what that orange stuff is."

With that Therion agreed. "The tunnels are pretty wide, we can move through them without touching it."

With no real objections the ragtag group took the path Ichiban laid out for them. Their footsteps echoed through the area, splashing as they walked through pooling water. Some puddles turned out to be little waterlings, most of them timid but the more aggressive ones as easily dispatched as they were disturbed. Utility lights were widely spaced, but the soft sickly glow of orange patches filled the dark areas in between.

Now and then a wandering Flukefey would buzz toward the group, becoming more common as they approached a more spacious area of the waterways. It was a crossroads of sorts, in a wide angular room, but this time their choice of which route to take was an easy one: there were two tunnels, and in one Flukefeys congregated in numbers enough to suggest their was a nest nearby. The trio swiftly headed in the other direction.

After another couple minutes of walking the once again approached a more open area, though this one seemed much larger than the last. Before they even left the tunnel mouth it was apparent that the connecting room extended below them, and they came to an upper level with a sturdy iron railing overlooking what could only be described as a garbage dump... or maybe a junk pit.

It was full of discarded insect shells and broken masks, but also outdated household items, deflated tires, random knickknacks, torn clothing, and hundreds of other items that had been thrown away and ended up in the city's sewer system. Piles and piles of stuff reaching almost to the ceiling. The sounds of scratching and shifting could be heard from up there, and some piles within the garbage seemed to moving around.

"Gla..." A bug was peering over the ledge at the pit below, though she turned to regard the humans with some curiosity as they exited the tunnel and came onto the balcony. "Gla gla... visit?"

This looked like another one of those maggot-things they kept running into. Omori faintly tensed up when the hermit turned to face them, but once she began speaking he allowed himself to relax. "Yes. We were just exploring the area for a bit." He answered first.

He understood that? Therion stepped around the bug, occupying a free space and looking over the balcony himself. His eye flickered around the piles of junk, trying to suss out any items worth taking.

"This has gotta be the place."

Ichiban looked around at all the junk, his uncertainty still clear on his face. "I don't think so," he muttered. "This wasn't where I got the medicine from. It's probably some other loot-filled place."

"Oh, who's this now?" Came an echoing voice behind everyone.

Walking down the tunnel they'd just come from was a paper thin person. With a big smile and a hat like a jester's (and dangling star pieces, Therion immediately noted), he gave the trio a friendly wave. When he turned to greet the Fluke Hermit they could see that he wasn't just thin, he was literally two-dimensional.

"Yay! Meeting people down here is rare, usually its just she and I, and those brutes downstairs. My name is Dazzle!"

"Yo, what's up? I'm Ichiban." Ichiban took the role of the 'face' for the trio, since Therion seemed like a bit of a loner and Omori had... he just had a weird vibe to him. "This is Therion, and Omori. Oh, and Mewo," he added, not missing Omori's pet. The cat in question popped her head out of the unzipped space of the boy's backpack.

"Is this your place? Hope you don't mind us looking around, we're doin' some dungeon exploring. Lotsa stuff y'got here!"

"Oh no, don't mind at all, guy. I live down here but I certainly don't own this junk pit."

"Mother sends treasure..." the hermit added. "Gather it up."

"You mentioned 'brutes', have they been giving you any trouble?" Omori asked Dazzle.

"Well..." the smile on Dazzle's face didn't go away, but he fidgeted slightly. "They are the ones who do claim to own this pit. They fight over it. They're troublesome but we try and stay clear. Its a big area, with lots to find, so be careful not to cross their paths!"

"Might be worth checking out," Therion said, his attention shifting from the area below to his companions. He was confident in his own ability to get in and get out of a place without being spotted, but he couldn't say the same for the other two. Well, maybe Omori's monochrome look would help him blend into the shadows.

"I can go alone and then meet back up."

"If you do plan on breaking and entering, we'll need to think up a signal in case things go sideways." Omori crossed his arms in thought. He wasn't against the experienced thief sneaking into bad-guy territory, but where are they even located at?

"I don't think splitting up's a good idea," Ichiban said. "This place has some serious baddies. You shouldn't get caught going solo."

With opinion split Therion turned completely around to face the others, leaning back on the balcony's railing. If the Seekers were going to stay in the city for a little while, he could always slip down into the waterways himself to check things out later if they didn't do so now. He'd gotten his bearings for the most part. "Okay. So. We wanna go down there, head back or keep going?"

Ichiban looked back toward Dazzle and that, uh, hermit worm lady. "Those guys down there keep messin' with you, right? Thinkin' they own the place?" He didn't really know the 'deal' with the sewers, if the so-called brutes actually had a hold over the treasure/trash pit, but even if they did, using it to justify having a bad attitude was something he couldn't let happen.

"I say we go down there - together, I mean."

With a nod Therion pushed off the railing. Omori seemed fine with that plan too, so it was settled.

Since they were braving the pit, Dazzle gave them what information he could. He pointed out a quick route to the lower level, and as for the 'brutes' - he only said the group would know the dangerous hoarders when they saw them.

"Good luck, guys!" Dazzle said to the group. The Fluke Hermit waved at them, gurgling a similar farewell.

As Ichiban and Omori headed away from the balcony, Therion lagged behind. Before leaving he turned back to Dazzle and pointed to the shiny fragments on his hat. Before he could even open his mouth to ask, the paper person's beady eyes sparkled passionately.

"Interested are you? They're star pieces! I collect them - the more I collect, the happier I am!"

Star pieces? Therion supposed if you fit a few of them together they would take the shape of a star... sort of. He happened to have the three he'd picked up in Twilight Town, and hoping they were worth something he asked, "Collect them for what? Are they worth more in a set?"

"Oh I'd never sell them. I've never met anyone interested in buying them anyway! They just make me very happy. If you happen to find any, I'll trade you my badges for them!"

Well there went the thief's plans to cash in on them. Of course Dazzle could always be lying about there being no buyers, but all two dimensions of him didn't look the type. With a half-restrained sigh he said, "I might have some. Let's see what you've got."

Pulling a large paper scroll seemingly from nowhere, Dazzle smiled widely and laid out his badge selection with a flourish. There were a dozen or so pinned to the scroll, all equally as flat as he was, and they come in a variety of colors and designs. "Yay! Which badge do you want to trade for?"

He went on to describe the effects of each, which took Therion by surprise. He'd figured they would just be shiny little chunks of metal with no more value than as collectibles, but it turned out that better described the star pieces. The badges were basically paper, but useful. The Fluke Hermit crawled over to watch the exchange as Therion ultimately traded two of his star pieces of his chosen badge. It felt silly pinning the flat thing to the shirt under his shawl, but he did it - and then went to catch up with the other two amid a second round of goodbyes from the friendly sewer dwellers.

Once reunited they all followed a side path that curved and declined, bringing them into the Junk Pit proper. It was huge, more spacious that it appeared even from above. Though there was clutter everywhere, a lot of it was collected into mounds, leaving room for the group to walk. Down here it was easier to make out the individual items stuffed into the piles, and naturally the thief drifted over to anything that caught his eye. The trio slowly moved through the area, generally exploring. Their thief's senses were on high alert, his cat ears flicking in the direction of any suspicious noise.

The sound of metal clanging was common down here, what with pieces of junk tumbling from the top of precarious piles or some new piece of trash falling in from somewhere above the sewer. Eventually though it became apparent that there was a steady, rhythmic metallic sound like metal shoes on stone - and coming towards them.

A tall, dark figure with a grisly beaked mask stalked slowly through the Junk Pit, scooping up items as it went. What looked like human body parts dangled from the pack on its back, a warning of what would become of any intruders caught on its turf.

"What the hell?!" Ichiban gasped, trying to not be too loud about it. Instead of being shocked by the whole visage of the beaked figure, he was more worried about what it was carrying. "Yo, does that guy have... hands and shit, in his bag?"

"That Dazzle guy really understated the situation," Therion said, voice hushed. "This thing's a killer." From beneath his cloak Therion drew his dagger for some modicum of safety.

"Well, just means this might be worse than we expected." Omori reached for any of his ranged weaponry at this rate. Something told him getting caught in the grasp of that thing would only add their limbs into its collection. "We can always fall back and let the others know what's going on down here." He whispered.

As much of a waste as Therion thought it would be to leave now, it was probably a good idea. Though their wounds and illnesses had been taken care of, both Omori and Therion had gone through a gauntlet of fighting that day with each battle more dangerous and disgusting than the last. The thought of facing down yet another monster right now was exhausting.

"...yeah," Therion agreed after a moment. It wasn't a total loss even if it wasn't the spot they'd been looking for - in their short time down there he'd managed to find a couple of useful things, like surprisingly clean bandages, discarded jewelry that might fetch a pretty leaf or two, and something he'd just picked up on a whim. Retreat for now sounded fine. "Let's go. Quick and quiet."

The guys started backing away from their hiding place and towards the place they'd come in from, their attentions fixed on the beaked menace. The atmosphere in the junk pit grew more and more tense the closer it got to them as they tried to make a stealthy escape. It felt like their were eyes on them, but Scrapbreak hadn't noticed them just yet. Whether it was their new acquaintances in the balconies farm above watching them, or someone else hidden among the garbage piles, they didn't know.

The trio were almost close enough to the exit to make a break for it when something shifted. It could have been coincidence, or it could have been that one of them had bumped into a heap of junk (though none were going to claim responsbility for that), but the closest pile to them toppled over. The sound was painfully loud and echoed throughout the space, and with the items scattered all over there was no where for the three of them to hide before Scrapbeak caught sight of them.

With a horrifying scream the monster shoved his hand into the nearest mass of junk and pulled out a pitchfork just before rushing toward the intruders.

"Move. MOVE!"

Needless to say, said intruders turned tail and booked it. In the middle of their mad dash to the exit, Therion's ears picked up the whistling noise of something being thrown. Whatever it was sailed right over them, aimed at the opening they were running towards.

"Wait!" Therion shouted, spreading his arms to stop Omori and Ichiban in their tracks. A second later the projecticle that Scrapbreak threw hit the stone in front of them and exploded - a spring-loaded razor wire that violently unfolded, spreading like a deadly spiderweb to block their escape.

Less agile than either the thief-like Therion or the tiny child Omori, Ichiban couldn't stop with much grace. He slid along the wet bricks, dress shoes providing next to zero traction so that he ended up falling on his ass. "Ah, shit!" He was probably a bit of a priority to keep safe, considering that unlike the others Ichiban was still Gleaming - getting hit by Scrapbeak would force him to fight it, meaning the other two would also have to jump in to save him.

Being a hero was hard work.

Therion pulled the man up by the scruff of his jacket as the monster's advance drew ever closer. They had to find another exit, but first they had to get away from their deranged pursuer. As soon as it got close enough Scrapbreak thrust the pitchfork at the group, hoping to skewer any of them, but its prey turned out to faster. They split up to avoid the attack and weaved around Scrapbeak, running through the pit to seek any other route out of it. The monster screamed again and gave chase.

Omori had taken the first initiative to kite Scrapbeak away by firing a couple of rounds from his Boxing Glove to direct it towards him. Just as long as he kept his distance and stayed focused, he could give the other two some time to either get the heat off him or find another way out!

"Over here!" Shouting was not a good tactic right now, but it was the only one they had. Down one of the split paths Ichiban stumbled into a less cluttered section of the dump, able to catch sight of the way out at the far end of the pit. Not wanting to keep running empty-handed, Ichiban grabbed a jutting-out piece of metal from a nearby junk pile, yanking it out (surprisingly without disturbing the rest), the crowbar clutched firmly in his hand. Not like he wanted to fight this freaky guy, but it might come to it.

Surprisingly their un-coordination worked to their advantage. The monster would give chase to one, then abort and turn the other direction as it tried to decide which would be an easier prize. Though it didn't deter the hoarder in the slightest, the confusion did give them a bigger gap between themselves and it. With a small lead, the two of them met back up with Therion as the latter ushered them over after finding an easier path through the pit.

Scrapbeak's screeching form disappeared as they got as far away as possible, but the group knew they hadn't lost it completely. It's echoing cries and harsh metal footsteps still followed after them. Then, making up for its slower speed with its size and knowledge of the room, Scrapbreak suddenly headed the three off by taking a short cut directly through a smaller mound of junk, throwing items everywhere and swinging its weapon to try and clothesline the lot of them, missing by a hair's breadth.

"Hey you!" Ichiban chucked his crowbar at the beaked monster in a desperate attempt to draw it away from Omori. He might not stand much of a chance against it, but to Ichiban, it's better for this killer to focus on him rather than the two still healing from their illness. He only managed to throw it against its giant backpack, though that did dislodge one of the severed hands (ew, gross) and a couple more items.

Scrapebeak let out a piercing shriek, beaked head turned to stare at Ichiban with empty eyes... though there was a lucky moment as it chose to stoop down and collect the dropped hand. Ichiban took the chance and booked it again, across Scrapbeak's path to join the others before it decided to keep going.

Luckily, they wouldn't be running in circles for much longer. "Hey- I think I see an exit!! This way!" The boy had called out as soon as he spotted another door nearby, having snuck around and scooped up the items that fell out of Scrapbeak's backpack.

Omori, Ichiban, and Therion had managed to avoid Scrapbeak so far. They had an exit in sight, but their route was littered with debris that made running through it without tripping a difficult task. With the monstrous hoarder on their tail, falling may well have been a death sentence. They sprinted as fast as they could go, nearing their escape with the screaming right behind them.

With his speed and dexterity a level beyond his two companions, Therion reached the door first. He whipped back around to check the status of the others to find Scrapbeak just about to catch up to them. The monster hoisted its pitchfork to go for a stab, but seemingly out of nowhere a heavy porcelain bathtub crashed down from above, directly on top of it.

What? The thief was dumbstruck by this turn of events. Then, he remembered that there were two menaces down here. The other self-proclaimed owner of the Junk Pit and apparently Scrapbreak's rival in body-part collecting sat atop the tub, a wicked smile on his goblin-like face.

"What's got you so distracted, birdy?" The new monster said, laughing down at Scrapbreak as it struggled to get out from under the tub. Saved by the violent rivalry, Ichiban and Omori slipped through the door to join Therion.

Working out the last of their adrenaline they jogged down the connecting tunnel, ending up in an open area where they could catch their breath.

Ichiban rubbed his palms against his forehead, leaning his lower back against the wall. "Hahhh, jeez. That guy was... was a real weirdo." Understatement of the year. "Look, if it's alright with you two, I-I think we should get outta here." He gestured to one of the pipeways branching off from their rest spot, familiar enough with the way out it seemed.

"What, scared of a little serial killer?" Therion quipped. Truth be told though, he agreed. Live to steal another day and all that. Plus now that he knew what was actually down here in the sewers, he could come back more prepared - after a good night's sleep. He followed Ichiban's indication of the piping and nodded for the man to go ahead, himself and Omori to follow right behind. Thinking back, it was incredible luck that the guy's gleaming "fight-to-the-death" trigger hadn't gone off. Therion would have felt a little about leaving him down there to battle those things.

The going was out was slower than going in as they took care trying not to run into trouble. They passed by naught more than a very large slug during the route. When the group traced their way back to one of the Royal Waterways' exits and made their way out, it was still raining. That massive clocktower showed that their little misadventure had felt longer than it actually was, and there was still some time left in the night surpisingly.

"Man, what a workout," Ichiban said, still huffing to catch his breath. He looked back to Therion and Omori. "If you guys wanna take care of that dude, you might wanna get some more help. I'd offer too, if y'let me. Doesn't feel right letting a murderer roam around where innocent people are."

"Doubt they'll be going anywhere anytime soon." Omori groaned, running a hand through his hair. "It's getting late. The others probably turned in for the night by now." Hopefully there's a shop still open that he can sell some of his extra stuff at.

After a bit of silence where he seemed deep in thought, Ichiban suddenly snapped his fingers. "Ganondorf!"

"What about him?"

"Yeah, that one guy who was knocked out with you earlier. He looked kinda familiar and I was racking my head the whole time tryin' to place it. But now I remember. He looks a lot like this bad guy from this video game, came out a little while before..." He stopped himself short of saying something, a small nervous cough to reorient the conversation. "Anyways, that guy was called Ganondorf. Is he some sorta cosplayer?"

Cosplayer? What was he talking about? Omori rose a brow, trying to figure out what Ichiban meant. Something seemed to click in his head after a second, but he didn't say anything further. Whatever the kid had figured out, Therion hadn't. It was clear the thief had no idea what Ichiban meant, and didn't have enough info to even guess.

"Is this one of those different world things?" He said, more to Omori than anything. On second thought, he really didn't care. Now that they were out of the Waterways and into the rain, Therion was getting eager to dry off as soon as possible.

"If you're sticking around you can ask him tomorrow. As far as I can tell he's some self-important, self-proclaimed 'King of Evil.'" Therion replied to Ichiban. "I'm gonna go find a place to bunk in."

He gave the both of them one quick wave in place of a goodbye and wandered off, traveling under the eaves of buildings to escape most of the rain.

Hm. Therion had a point. Omori had to find some place to dry off and spend the night. Mewo was probably getting drenched inside his backpack. But first, somewhere to sell stuff. "See you around." With a nod to Ichiban and a wave goodbye, he walked off and the remaining two went their separate ways, ending the trio's little misadventure.

...But Omori still felt like something was off. Almost as if the feeling was following him. Maybe once he goes to bed he'd feel better in the morning.

After the troop had given up on trying to break the invincible clock Primrose had her own set of suggestions, ones which had Kamek nodding along at their wisdom, though he did have to insist on a reminder that ”The one I fought, F, was quite the fierce foe. We should consider them as being somewhere in the same realms of threat as the guardians themselves, I think. So best to be well prepared before we go knocking on their door”

”Yeah, but we’ve clobbered plenty of those at this point, so we can take the helmeted schmucks on, no issue” Bowser, who had caught up in time to hear Kamek’s warning, declared confidently

”With a full party” Kamek added as a caveat

”Ah, well, sure, maybe, I guess. We need to find the others anyway, so might as well do that first” the king retorted, not entirely willing to commit to agreeing with their inability to handle the threat of a consul on their own.

He was then filled in on the rest of what he missed, which ended with him scratching his head at the talk of the world being older than they thought.

”Huh, what? But that makes no sense. I was there, on the cliff, where this all started. So was Kirby, and he’s the one who survived it all, and then freed me and that was, right after he got away. I think. Must be, because I don't remember much of anything in between getting blasted and waking up” Bowser scratched his head, ”I mean the puffball’s never been the most talkative but, I think that was how it all went down?”

”Wait, you don’t remember anything before that?” Jr asked, now just as confused

”Nope. Nothing.”

”That’s weird. I mean I do. You two too right?” Jr glanced at the other two, to which Kamek nodded, and Rika shrugged, and then explained that ”Everything before I was freed was pretty hazy”

”Huh. Weird” was Bowser’s rather uninspired final assessment of the situation, as he and Rika simply dropped the issue from their minds, while Jr and Kamek continued to ponder it to a greater or lesser extent. The promise that it would be explained later, however, made it a mostly secondary concern.

After that bit of head scratching, it was time to head out. The Troop bid Asgore farewell, and then caught up with Barnabee, who offered a different perspective on the whole situation that those who were free from Galeem had had. That they had only been spared the reaper’s blade because he was close to full on lifelight.

”Whaaaat, nooo, he was way too nice for that Right? Right?” Rika immediately rejected his assertion, which got the full range of replies from ”Yeah, obviously, he’s a fluffy pushover” to ”Eh, I dunno, he only talked about killing monsters and stuff right” and ”You know, now I am not so sure”

There was a bit of inconclusive discussion on the topic on that, before it was ended by them arriving at a familiar sight: a green pipe.

”Ah finally, some normalcy, now that’s a sight for sore eyes”

Sure enough, the pipe functioned just as expected, the troop lining up and descending down it, the familiar sound resounding and sensation grabbing the koopas just as expected, while Rika audibly delighted in the new experience. What was not so delightful was that the exit was at the bottom of a pond.

”Oh come on, I just dried off!” Bowser compiled as he sank to the bottom, the risk of drowning not at all an issue for him thanks to his aquatic fusions. Jr also had very little issue with the water, his car landing down on the mariokart track, at which point the prince deployed a rear propeller, and then with practiced ease drift boosting along the track before launching up out of the water onto the pavement.

Rika, hauling a waterlogged Kamek, arrived a few moments later, climbing up onto the surface of the water and floating over to the edge to deposit her elderly cargo, who gave her a ”Thank you Rika, much appreciated”

The two of them tried to shake themselves dry, only for a wet furred Bowser to burst from the pond next to them and undo their meager progress, the King having used his Meowser form to cat scratch his way up the side of the pool. Not at all a pleasant experience, that was for sure.

”Ack- Sire really” Kamek comaplied, only to get splashed more as the koopa king tried to shake himself dry like a dog, much to Jr and Rika’s giggling amusement.

”Urgh, that hardly helped” Bowser complained as he stood up, and then took a look around the city they’d found themselves in ”Huh, so this is Asgor’s old place … not bad, though the rain’s a pain”

”Quite. We’re going to need to get umbrellas. Or at least I am” Kamek muttered, before Jr got them back to the point ”So, uh, how are we gonna find the others in here anyway?”

”Yeah this place is huuuuuge!” Rika said, putting words to the obvious as she marveled at the sights

”Which means its gonna take forever to look everywhere” Jr groaned

”Guess we’ll check the obvious places like the middle of town, and then if that doesn't work, Kamek can just make me huge and they’ll have to come to us” Bowser said, ignorant or uncaring about how that might go down with the locals.

”Sire I uh, well, oh never mind” Kamek gave up trying to find words to dissuade his king from this line of action, and then instead simply muttered that ”I just hope they are here at all”

”Maybe we can just ask someone?” Rika suggested as she deployed her remaining scout plane to have a look around. Before anyone could get a word in on that she announced ”Oh hey look, looks like some kind of guard over there just past that gate. I’m gonna go ask her!” and then promptly hopped back onto the pond’s surface and started boosting across it, heading for the guard she had just spotted.

”Hey wait up!” Jr called as he burned rubber after her, something that swiftly turned into a race between them. Kamek groaned at the kid’s antics while Bowser gave a hearty laugh at it, before the two older koopas set on off after them at a less energetic pace.

Karin woke up bright and early, feeling much better. No one paid much mind to her loss, and Sakura didn’t really have to know… so all was well and Karin brushed the defeat under the rug of her ego. Besides. the people of this city needed her. Karin wasn’t going to be bothered by civilian casualties because that would mean allowing more to happen. What Midgar needed was strength, not just of body, but of spirit.

After managing her needs and wants, she sat down with her small breakfast and listened to Goldlewis, Giovanna, Vernon, Midna, Benedic, and then lastly, Roxas, speak. Then the newcomer, Zenkichi, along with Geralt.

”It would certainly help establish us as legitimate.” Karin said. ”But I’m under no illusion it would significantly increase our freedom. In my extensive experience with gaining power, one must rub elbows with those on top and work your way up. You can only crush someone if you’re above them, after all.” She said.

”...Not that we’re planning on crushing anyone.” She added. ”Well, if they deserve it, yes, we would be obligated to crush them.” She added again.

She crossed one leg over the other as Zenkichi made his proposal about Akane. ”Indeed, Alcamoth would be the safest place…but this hideout is reasonably secure, yes? It’s the safest place in the city, at least. We’d need to establish our new ‘brand’ elsewhere by securing some property, if we want the hideout to remain a hideout.” She said.

”Before we make any concrete plans, we’ll have to meet up with the OSF recruits and see how that operation went…” She mused, that part mostly to herself.

---

“Uh, alright. Bye, I guess.” Jesse waved at the three guys as they headed off. She felt like she was missing something. Really only after they left did the thought occur to her to ask if she could come, too.

Guess it’s just the two of us, then. She thought.

I guess I should turn in. I wonder where Primrose and the others got off too, after all? I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever see each other again. Maybe not until they find their way back to ‘Alcamoth’?”

When she asked around for a place to stay, she was pointed to the Habbo Hotel with a cryptic yet in-character message. So Jesse ended up renting a room at the Habbo Hotel, using some more of her meager savings to do it. Man, she needed a job.

Sleep never came particularly easy to Jesse Faden. Not even when she was exhausted. But it was a lot better now than it was back when things were bad.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Jesse took a moment collect her thoughts. We need to get back to the Oldest House. Jesse thought to Polaris. It’s going to take the Seekers a long time to work their way up there…once we’re done down here we might need to split off. Emily and the others need to know what’s going on. I know they’re fine but, who knows what kind of crazy shit could be going down. And without knowing about Galeem, they won’t know what to look for.

But we work fast. It’ll only be a few more days, tops, before we kill the next Boss. We can all wait that long.

In the morning Jesse would try to find Miss Fortune in the hotel and re-unite with the other Seekers to begin planning their next move.

Yesterday had really put the Ever Crisis into perspective. They'd seen a lot of lives snuffed out last night between the the Others and the Aberrations. That the citizens of Midgar had to live with the fear of those kinds of attacks that could happen anywhere, at any time, was a very sobering thought. Humans in general usually got the short end of the stick - in fact there was a little saying that the divine invoked from time to time about them: 'Born crying, soon they're dying!' Though it didn't make Pit want to help them any less. Besides, if this type of thing had been happening in Skyworld, the angel would have already been deployed to take care of the problem. Of course, Lady Palutena would also have known where the problem stemmed from and how to take care of it.

Since this was not Skyworld but Midgar (or a mash-up of the real Midgar, wherever it existed), that morning Pit was present with the Seekers and SOU to discuss the events of yesterday, their course of action for today, and the plan going forward. He barely covered a wide yawn with his hand as he waited for everyone to wake up or arrive after chirping a word of gratitude to Goldlewis and Jessica for the breakfast. The smell of coffee was rousing him, and he nearly claimed a cup just by routine to doctor with cream and sugar for a certain someone else. Instead he not so smoothly took a donut instead, shoving it into his mouth.

The informal meeting started once Vernon entered the room, though Pit didn't know the man. Catching up meant debriefing would be first. After a very quick introduction to Vernon, Pit didn't have much more to add to Benedict or Midna's reports. Pretty much everything they'd experienced had been in the presentation the SOU gave the Seekers when they first arrived, though seeing it up close and personal was a much different feeling to seeing it on a screen.

"The situation here is way worse than I thought it was, but I guess you all knew that," he said to the Midgar natives. That said, Pit was more determined to help than ever.

The question was how to help. Was the best way to do that still ingratiating themselves into Midgar's defense forces? Neuron and Psych-whatever definitely had a lot of information that the Seekers could benefit from, especially with their reverse engineered Chimeras as Midna pointed out. Presumably DespoRHado had more information to learn too. Plus, they had three friends already undercover! They definitely couldn't leave them behind. Roxas' proposal, while one that Pit agreed would be a great idea, would leave the Seekers starting from scratch as far information gathering on their foes, and with no assistance (and maybe even active interference) from the other factions even if they could get around the red tape with Susie's help. Not to mention Blazermate's very probable suggestion about someone finding out about the missing government officials working with them now and how that could impact things. So... what was the right course of action?

Ugh, all this thinking is hurting my head. Pit rubbed the palm of his hand against his forehead while he considered the options. Sure would be nice to have an all-knowing Goddess make all the choices for me right now... and Viridi would never let me live that down if I said it out loud!

It was about that time that two new people entered the conference room, a desperate sounding man and his daughter. Pit snapped to attention with their entrance, both from the urgency in the man's voice and the gleaming eyes of the girl. Would this be the second "Turk" that had been mentioned? Yes as it turned out, and after a dramatic freeing of Akane from Galeem's influence courtesy of Roxas, Zenkichi told them that there was going to be another attack on the city soon!

"Maybe since we wouldn't go back through the metro, they won't be looking for us there anymore. It might be safe to go through... unless that's what they want us to think, and they think that we think they think we won't go back..." Pit said, in regards to getting Akane to safety within the Alcamoth. Then, he suddenly shook his head as other matters came back to mind.

"Wait before that we have to go help stop that machine attack!" he exclaimed. "I mean, yeah we should definitely check on Princess Peach and the others, but if there are people in danger we can't just leave them alone!"

Then again, that Psych-something operation would be in order to help people against the Others, right? So in that case, if they had to be in two places at once (or maybe even three), then shouldn't they split up again?

"Okay, let's just... do everything! We're the good guys, so helping people's what we do, but we need a way to help without getting in trouble right? So some of us can get the, um, paperwork in order and then some go stop the machines and some check out what the Psych-guys are doing!"

Pleased with his own conclusion, Pit smiled. "That should work, right? We still have to try and find out what's causing the Ever Crisis so we can stop it, but... eh, I'm sure we'll find that out soon enough!"

Of course, the election might throw a wrench into all preconceived plans, but they'd deal with that when the time came.

"Well that was a sight to behold," Rubick remarked after all the excitement with the gigantified Bowser had calmed down. It was a shame they were from different worlds; with such power, the Koopa King would've stood among the top heavyhitters in the battle of the Ancients and be a fine ally to have. And that Flame Clock was certainly quite durable if it managed to withstand that onslaught of attacks. It made Rubick wonder just how valuable its contents were if it needed to be so unbreakable.

Asgore's tale was also rather sad, but more importantly, it shed a bit of light on the enemies the Seekers faced. This "F" was evidently a powerful foe and wasn't afraid to wield that strength. Everyone else seemed to know more about them as well, and Rubick hated being kept in the dark about such matters. "I would like to more about these 'Consuls' we're facing. It seems I'm the only one who knows less about them than everyone else here," Rubick complained. "You must tell me all you know about them soon."

Bidding their farewells to Asgore, they made their way to the green pipe that seemed rather out of place in this environment. However, the Koopa Troop were quite familiar with it, so it was likely safe to use. Curious, he observed the others entering the pipe, the structure making the same pattern of noises every time someone descended into it. Now fascinated, he stepped onto the pipe as well and was delighted to experience this new mode of travel.

When Rubick finally exited the pipe, he was about to drop into the water. "Oh dear!" Rubick said, quick to react by casting Telekinesis on himself, stopping just an inch off the water's surface. "Ah, that was close. I'd hate to get my robes wet. Well, wetter than now." Reorienting himself in the air with his spell, Rubick took in the sights of the city surrounding them. He was relieved to be in an area of civilization again, having quickly grown rather tired of the cave and root systems.

Setting himself back onto the ground and following the old Koopas Bowser and Kamek, Rubick took the opportunity to ask, "So, the Consuls. I've yet to face many of them myself, apart from that one back near the surface of the Chasm. Now that we have the opportunity... Please, tell me more about them."

Unlike a number of their companions, both Tora and Poppi enjoyed a good night’s sleep in their little nook. While she did not require rest to function, the artificial blade could employ her built-in sleep mode to bypass the boredom of waiting and awaken alongside her Masterpon when morning finally arrived. Since yesterday’s events amounted to nothing more than excitement, exercise, and beating up baddies, even if he himself got a little more beat up than he would have liked, Tora slept soundly. He did not oversleep, however, and after a full eight hours roused both himself and Poppi from slumber. He wasn’t a slovenly shut-in anymore after all, but a heropon, and with that mantle came certain expectations. With a yawn, Tora pushed open the closet door and waddled across the hall to peer through the windows. Not a glorious new day by any means, all overcast and rainy. The sound of footsteps behind him heralded Poppi’s arrival by his side, still in QT-Pi mode. She tousled his hair, eliciting a smile. Any day was a good day so long as he had Poppi.

First order of business for any newly-awake Nopon was, of course, breakfast. Midgar’s former Special Operations Unit had established their base of operations on just one floor of this unassuming office building, and with it being stark even in terms of a workplace, no food could be found on the premises. Despite the rainfall Tora and Poppi took to the streets, where they quickly found a small diner only too happy to serve a quick and affordable meal. The Nopon happily wolfed down the greasy, bloated sausages and watery eggs, then drank his fill of sweet, tangy orange juice, happily indifferent to its genuineness. Poppi just took in the smells and sounds of the diner, peering out into the rain as she wondered what the day might bring.

Once back at the office, Tora ran a quick diagnostic on his companion to see if he could tune anything up, but Poppi seemed to be in pretty good shape. They reviewed the spirits they’d gotten from yesterday, which both declined to trade away. Jack Frost possessed a stature and bulbousness rather like Tora, but he didn’t relish the idea of fusion, and also didn’t want a striker–he needed no partner but Poppi. As for Chemtrail, he considered crushing it for an item, but then had a brainwave. Thanks to her fusion with that phantom Armor, Poppi Alpha already had a ‘heavy metal knight’ theme going for her, and the idea of making her even tankier sounded pretty good. Poppi agreed, and they set about making the dream a reality.



Poppi switched back to QT-PI Mode after. With it too wet outside to head out to the helipad, Tora decided the two of them should do some ‘training’ in the meeting room while everyone else trickled in. This amounted to him attempting to follow along while Poppi practiced her new breakdance-inspired fighting techniques over in one corner, with comedic results, but the little guy kept at it until everyone was ready to begin.

After hopping up into the seat, he noticed an unfamiliar face at the table. Creased and wrinkled by many years of experience, with crow’s feet from plenty of laughter, Vernon looked serious but not unfriendly. “Hello, friend!” Tora greeted him. He didn’t need any introductions to know just what to call someone new.

“Good morning, son,” the former president said in reply.

Goldlewis offered a nod of respect to the Nopon inventor. “I hear you risked your neck for Giovanna last night, so to speak. You have my thanks.” He glanced at the secret agent in question as if to ask her if Tora had hers, too.

“Mm-hm. She leaned back in her chair. Though pretty sure that things would’ve been fine without Tora’s intervention, she appreciated his help all the same. Rei trotted over to shovel her head beneath Tora’s wing to be petted, which pleased him to no end.

Midna criticized the quality of the food offered, and shaky though it might be in terms of nutrition, Jessica did not smile upon the imp’s feedback. “You can have nothing if you prefer,” she deadpanned.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t provide better accommodations for you all in general,” Vernon apologized, not eager for a squabble between the ladies. “We haven’t exactly been living the high life out here. Ever since our exodus from the Administration, we’ve been keeping a low profile. Money is short, and most of what we make goes right back into operations.”

Giovanna shrugged with a sigh. “How the mighty have fallen.”

With Vernon’s presence the level of formality in the room felt a bit higher, and it wasn’t much longer before the meeting officially began. Like any good meeting it began with a retrospective about the road that led here, and the Seekers began recounting yesterday’s events. Midna mentioned the Others first, and from experience Goldlewis knew that despite their bizarre appearances, those things weren’t messing around. “Real tough cookies,” he commented. “Some of ‘em got powers, and they know how to use ‘em. The flyin’ electric ones and the slimy ones teamed up to electrocute me, and it hurt somethin’ fierce. I reckon we only seen the tip of the iceberg so far.”

Next she brought up the Chimeras, which in the veteran’s mind were the biggest problem by far. “Bein’ invisible and appearin’ just about anywhere outta those gates is bad enough, but that corruption is some scary shit. If the folks from Neuron weren’t there, we might’ve all aberrated ourselves.” It was too easy to remember the screams of the poor people from last night as they transformed. Goldlewis didn’t shiver or shudder or anything, but he shook his head in profound, brow-furrowed dissatisfaction. “We can’t take those bastards on. Not ‘til we get some sort of countermeasure.” For now, he didn’t dare say anything about the red spirit. He didn’t know what it meant, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know, either.

“Red matter corruption…” Poppi repeated, her tone grave. She examined the weird spirit carefully, but couldn’t figure anything out other than it being, well, red instead of prismatic. “If Neuron has the only cure, it’s worth looking into, but it definitely sounds like we should steer clear of chimeras for now.”

Juiced up on caffeine, Midna also recommended a course of action for today, which just so happened to be what Goldlewis favored as well. “That’s what I figured we’d be doin’,” he told everyone. “Luka mentioned it off-handedly, but it sounded like a real big deal. Some kind o’ massive joint operation with all the fixin’s, ordered by Administration higher-ups. Might be a good chance to learn more ‘bout both Psych-OSF and the Others, if they’re gettin’ their hands dirty in Other territory. Plus, we oughta be there for our moles, in case things go south. I ain’t gonna leave anyone behind if I can help it.”

He crossed his arms. “Yesterday I procured a hideout in Seiran, real close to the lift up to Suoh. Nothin’ much happens around these parts, so Sector 7’s a good place to hole up, but if we want our finger on the pulse a base near Midgar’s beatin’ heart is what we need. Should be ready by now, too. I reckon my team should head over soon as we finish up here and get familiar with Seiran while waitin’ for details from the moles.”

Midna’s offer to set up warp portals appealed to him greatly. “Yeah, let’s do that,” he told her. “Much as I like drivin’ the Patriot, it’s a real doggone trip to make twice or more a day.”

Next to make a suggestion was Roxas. He preferred the idea of eschewing the other factions at play in Midgar in order to go it alone, building up reputation and power through direct action. It sounded nice, but especially after he gave fictional detectives as an example, it sounded a bit fanciful too. “That sound fun! As heropon, Tora very good at quests!” Tora seemed to be in favor, or at least enthused, and he piped out with an important question. “What is detective?”

Susie spoke up to rain on Roxas’ parade, reminding him that establishing such an agency would be a lot easier said than done. Goldlewis stroked his whiskers as Susie said her piece, then offered his own two cents. “Goin’ public is a risky move,” he mused. “It’s true we don’t want anyone controllin’ us, but we’d be startin’ from scratch. It’d take a hell of a lot of time, money, and patience. Assumin’ the powers that be just let it happen, or don’t find out.” Karin was in agreement; the means to make something like this happen didn’t come from nowhere.

Poppi held a knuckle to her mouth as she thought. “We’re all for helping people as much as we can, and reaping whatever rewards we can get from them of course, but…remember what we were told about the Consuls yesterday?” She glanced at Tora for support, although she didn’t necessarily expect him to recall. “It seems like powerful enemies know what we’re up to now. Might be better to stay under the radar. Time probably isn’t on our side.”

Once Susie mentioned hacking, Vernon pursed his lips. “Hmm. Not to be a stick in the mud, but if you’re not psych-tech, you might have a rough time of it. Psynet’s known for being a tough nut to crack. You’d need to access the city computer Arahabaki to even have a chance, and it’s under lock and key deep below ground underneath the Shinra building.”

Giovanna answered Blazermate’s concerns about the secret police. “Actually, you’re not too far off the mark. There’s two kinds of Turk in General Affairs. The kind who work in the light, like Benedict here, who solve crimes, do paperwork, and goof around with G-men. Then there’s the kind who work in the dark: my old buddies, the Auditors. You know, actual secret agents. I was with them before these guys scooped me up, and they’re…well, probably what you’d expect. Dangerous. Unscrupulous. And not anyone we want to come knocking.”

“Speaking of dangerous, I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from Raiden?” Vernon asked Giovanna.

The redhead sighed. “Sadly, no. He split from us in Detroit. I don’t mind him going off and getting killed by DespoRHado in some suicide crusade, but he knows enough to sink us if he’s compromised. I should’ve kept him on a tighter leash...”

At that point, things took a turn. Vernon, Jessica, and Goldlewis had all been made aware that Benedict wasn’t the only Unit Chief from General Affairs who knew about this place. Even as the meeting proceeded, all wrestled with unease at the possibility that Giovanna made a mistake. But now, rather than arriving with a horde of G-men or worse at his back, Zenkichi appeared with his daughter alone. She did not take kindly to the new company, but despite the outburst nobody took action. They all understood the telltale light in Akane’s eyes, and could understand the anguish that must accompany Zenkichi’s position. Luckily, the Seekers could also help. Geralt suggested it and Roxas executed it, freeing the poor girl from Galeem’s grip. With that freedom came the typical mental overload, but Giovanna sent Rei over to nuzzle Akane, and as someone of comparable years Tora offered her his support. “Must be hard right now,” he said. “Nothing make sense, meh. Just take easy for now.” He nodded his approval when Zenkichi got her a donut. “Sweets make everything better, meh!”

As it turned out, Zenkichi hadn’t come to this meeting empty-handed. Without warning he let loose a deluge of fresh information, including the announcement of a possible attack from the Machines today, which Public Security seemed happy to let fall on DespoRHado and the undercities. The news left everyone aghast, especially Goldlewis. “That ain’t good,” he summarized. “It sounds PubSec ain’t willin’ to call off the OSF op to put the Scarlet Guardians on defense duty. So they’re leavin’ it up to DespoRHado to save the day, while also hopin’ they fail. The balls it takes to make a call like that.” He could only run his hand through his hair in consternation. “Actually, I wonder if the intel that leaked to the Machines was about the op in the first place. Makes sense they’d attack while the city’s army is off cleanin’ out the ol’ subway system.”

Zenkichi’s remarks about Public Security interested the SOU personnel especially. After mentioning Akira Konoe and that the man hailed from his own world, the detective went on to explain just what PubSec’s head had gotten up to in the before-times, and it was nothing good. Under normal circumstances a story like that would have boggled the mind, but the Seekers had no choice. They could only accept it and move on. As the conversation turned away from current affairs and more to a personal dialog between Zenkichi and Geralt, Vernon turned toward the rest of the table, his voice low.

“Akira Konoe is a member of Shinra’s cabinet,” he told everyone. “My people left with me, so I don’t know his personally. Only by reputation. Mara, head of Advanced Weaponry. Hojo, head of Research and Development. Wright, head of Urban Planning. The head of Time and Space Division…I forget her name, exactly, but she’s some sort of erudite. And as you know, Konoe is head of the Public Security, which means it isn’t just the police he’s in charge of. He is also the direct superior of Truman Zanotto, giving him the power to order around Psych-OSF. Aside from Shinra himself, he’s certainly the most powerful man in the city.”

Poppi’s brow furrowed. “Sounds like someone we’ll need to confront at some point. But before that, like Pit and Zenkichi said, we need to do something about this Machine attack. Are we splitting up again?”

Tora looked from her to Goldlewis, who slowly nodded. “Some back to Seiran, some back to Detroit? That seems likely. Nice as it was, looks like our little reunion’s gonna be a brief one.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Least we’ll get to stretch our legs outside the city, eh?”

Vernon nodded. “While you all get out there, Jessica and I will look after things on the home front. Our talks with Bridges yesterday went well. They’re dispatching engineers today to set up nodes and get us hooked up to their Chiral Network. That includes your Seiran Hideout, once they contact you there. They can even renovate the place for you, make it liveable.” He paused for a moment, then added, “The Chiral Network is a safer and more secure alternative to Psynet; we use phone glyphs for a good reason.”

“If we’re done blabbing, we should get going. With so much ground to cover, we’ll be lucky to get where we’re going before all hell breaks loose as it us,” Giovanna observed.

“Right.” Goldlewis stood. “We got a busy day ahead of us.” Idly he wondered if the groups would be any different from last time. It sounded like Midna wanted to go to Seiran again and Karin would probably want to support her friend Sakura, but other than that he didn’t know for sure.

Tora jumped down from his chair. “Meh-meh! What friends wait for then? To hero-mobiles!”

This time, Goldlewis and Giovanna’s cars rolled out in the same direction. With the chaos that had befallen the highways around Sector 7’s hub last night, and the veteran’s desire not to leave his hummer alone in Suoh long-term, he figured it would be better to go by rail. Both teams would be taking different routes from yesterday, in fact; while Goldlewis and his crew took a train to Seiran, Giovanna’s would be descending to the Sector 7 undercity. Being Detroit’s next-door neighbor and just as likely to take the brunt of a Machine invasion, albeit without DespoRHado for defense, those slums would be a lot easier to operate in. After parking and trooping over to the train situation, the division of Seekers between the Other and Machine Teams got finalized, and they bid one another farewell. “Good luck friends!” Tora called as those bound for Seiran boarded their maglev locomotive. He waved until they disappeared into the distance.

Rather than take up two seats on the train, Goldlewis stood at one end, forced by his impressive height to stoop slightly. In the course of his uncomfortable ride the veteran listened to the train’s news broadcast. Most of it didn’t matter much, but he did catch one interesting story. “At this time, we can confirm the bombing of Mako Reactor 1 in Sector 1 at around one o’ clock this morning,” the newscaster reported. “The destruction led to panic and chaos in Piltover as fires spread and authorities rushed to the scene. Their attempts to arrest the probable fugitives resulted in over two dozen casualties. Even the involvement of a Claw wasn’t enough to bring them to justice. At this point no group has claimed responsibility for the attack, but there’s only one name on the minds of the terrified populace: Avalanche. These terrorists are armed and extremely dangerous. Citizens are asked to report any suspicious activity they see today to…”

Goldlewis removed his glasses in order to massage his temple. “Always somethin’,” he muttered. “At least it was all the way over in Sector 1 instead of 7. Last thing Giovanna’s team needs right now is runnin’ into Avalanche.”

---

From the moment Giovanna, Tora, Poppi, and the rest of their team arrived in the Sector 7 slums, they realized that even compared to Sector 8, it was a completely different beast. Detroit had the air of a run-down, burnt-out city, a boom town way past its prime desperately trying to cover up the odor of poverty and dereliction with a spritz of new-age glitz and glamor. One could almost believe it to be the home of a second technological revolution of robotics if one stuck to the shiny, metallic main streets and city center, but beyond that lay a hollow, crime-riddled husk of a metropolis. The Sector 7 Slums, meanwhile, offered no illusions; it was simply a sprawling expanse of threadbare, industrial destitution, mistakeable from a distance for one big dump. Instead of roads or gravel, it had dirt. The cluttered clusters of hovels, shacks, and shops were lucky if they were made of concrete or brick. Most were riveted together from rusty sheet metal. Everything was run-down and disorganized, slapped together as it became necessary rather than assembled with any plan in mind. After leaving the train station, Tora needed to climb over a pipe only halfway buried in the dirt road, which happened to be in use judging by the high-pitched scrapy noise it gave off. If one of those ramshackle trucks drove over it the wrong way, he figured it could easily burst the pipe and take out plumbing for the whole area, including a factory next to the train station. These slums made Detroit look pretty good, actually. At least the Plate above blocked out the rain, preventing the undercity’s floor from turning to mud.

Giovanna pointed the team in the direction of the undercity’s edge. “We’re headed for Scrap Boulevard,” she declared. “Unlike Detroit, these slums don’t have a real outer wall. That junkyard is the buffer zone where local militia and any androids or cyborgs deployed here hold the Machines off whenever they come knocking. We won’t have any trouble getting outside the city that way.”

“Once we reach edge, what we do about Machines?” Tora asked. “Stand guard until they show up, meh?”

“I was thinking we’d be more proactive,” Giovanna said. “If we leave Midgar and take the fight to them, we might be able to nip anything going on in the bud, or at least find out more about them.” She crossed her arms. “People in this sector who don’t commute elsewhere in the city to work probably make ends meet by salvaging, and the best loot is out in the valley of ruins. We should see if we can hitch a ride with a salvage crew. They’d probably have some way to tell where the Machines are while out there too, in order to avoid them.”

Poppi nodded. “Makes sense. You’re very knowledgeable, Giovanna.”

“Ehh. I’m too lazy to go and figure all this out myself,” she said, shrugging. “It’s people like the twins who actually go and learn this stuff.” With a goal in mind, she began to saunter down the dirt road in the direction of the city’s edge. Tora and Poppi followed behind, keeping their eyes out. To the left stood a hostel cafeteria, one of the only buildings in sight with glass in it, and down the way on the right stood a bar and restaurant called Seventh Heaven, but it wouldn’t be open until lunchtime at least. All these people, just trying to make it day today, and any minute now they might find their meager home under attack by rampant robots. Tora clenched his wing. A true heropon wouldn’t rest until he knew these people were safe.

---

The train ride to Seiran took some time, as well as an interesting route. With the Sector 6 undercity, Deep-Paris, being a massive mass of earth and architecture, the train spent most of its time in dark tunnels until it suddenly emerged into the muted light of the rainy day. Suddenly the vehicle was rattling over the murky Sector 5 reservoir on a track held up by tall metal support struts, hundreds of feet above the water. In this fashion it cruised in toward one of the biggest buildings, and when it reached it it ascended in a spiral path around its edge to the train station.



Seiran took the form of a few dozen skyscrapers that rose from the reservoir all the way up to the plate, connected together to form a many-tiered array of bridges, rooftops, and balconies. Its dark upper levels shone with the perennial glow of countless streetlamps that interspersed the railings of countless walkways. Things were nicer the higher up one -and the closer to Suoh- one was in Seiran, especially near the giant cargo lift that marked Seiran’s economical center. Conversely, the lower one went -and the closer to the reservoir- the filthier and less hospitable things became. No boats sailed those fetid waters; no edible fish or potable water could be extracted from it, and nobody in his or her right mind would immerse in it. Yet a number of the poorest, least human, and most outcast elements of the city congregated in camps at the foot of those skyscrapers, sunken too deep to ever rise again.

Goldlewis and the team stuck to the upper part of Seiran, where a crisp wind blew across the high-altitude boardwalks to play with the hanging lanterns and umbrellas of the outdoor markets, pavilions, promenades, and food courts. Their objective was the former clinic just a couple bridges away from the cargo lift, half of it yellow, half of it blue, and all of it for the Seekers’ exclusive use. Goldlewis planned to stick around to meet up with the Bridges contacts and get the place developed for use as a proper hideout, but the others could explore around Seiran or even ascend to Suoh. If they were going to help with the Psych-OSF operation, they needed to know more about when and where–and preferably how the trio that joined the Scarlet Guardians were doing, as well.



Even among the many tall buildings of the Home of Tears, Habbo Hotel stood out as something special, and not just because of its bright orange, almost garish exterior. Sure, it might not be as high-falutin, exclusive, or aesthetic as the various premier places to stay in the Royal Quarter, but Nadia could appreciate its everyday comfort and broad appeal. When she awoke it might not be any brighter or less rainy outside than when she went to bed, but she felt refreshed and revitalized. The expensive suite she’d secured with her ill-gotten gains also afforded her something new, something that she never would’ve expected to get in a million years: room service.

After figuring out the phone, which took a lot longer than she would have liked, she ordered up a giant breakfast delivered not just to her door, but straight to her bed. A troop of Prinnies with ties waddled in on with silver platters, balancing precariously on their peg legs to deliver her a feast of eggs, sausage, and syrupy pancakes–all the protein and carbs she needed for another long day of constant exercise. Feeling like a princess, Nadia enjoyed the meal with gusto, drinking from her mug of coffee with her pinky finger extended and making a big show of daubing her face with a napkin after every bite.

Eventually she went downstairs. Behind her she left her suite’s bedroom and bathroom a thorough mess of dishes, napkins, towels, perfumes, and shampoo bottles, smugly leaving the Prinny team to pick up after her. When she reached the front desk, she was wearing one of the hotel’s fancy, HH-embroidered, orange bathrobes beneath her black jacket, on top of her shorts and bra. A complimentary umbrella lay tucked under one arm. “Good mornin’,” she greeted the receptionist, a penguin with a tie. His nametag read ‘Berg’. “D’ya know if any of my friends checked in after me last night? I let ‘em know I’d be stayin’ here.” She gave a brief description of some teammates.

“Oh, Ms. Fortune, good morning.” The penguin dutifully checked the register. “Yes, one Queen Sectonia checked in after asking about you. As did one Mr. Dragmire, Ms Faden, young Mr. Omori, Ms Azelhart, the Koopa family…”

“Oh, the others made it here too? How lucky is that!” Nadia grinned, glad that her breadcrumb trail had worked better even than she could have imagined. “Could I leave a message for any of ‘em that come by? Just say Nadia wanted to get together again in the lobby here at, oh…” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Nine?”

The receptionist jotted that down. “Certainly. By the way, someone left a message for you as well. Not you in particular, but anyone from ‘the group of travelers who arrived in the night’.”

Nadia raised her brows, curious. “Go on.” Berg slipped her a letter, which she opened to read.

To whom it may concern: last night, one of my sentries witnessed your arrival from Ash Lake. Such an unauthorized intrusion upon the grounds of Gallo Tower would have been enough cause to raise the alarm, but I chose not to do so. Very few who tread upon the ashes of the Flower Garden live to tell the tale. I must confess myself intrigued by you, and what brings you to the Home of Tears. We may be able to help one another. Therefore I would like to meet. Seek the tower overlooking the Collection with windows that glow an ethereal white–the Soul Sanctum. Be aware that it is home to wretched things that will no doubt attempt to hinder your ascent. I will be waiting in the highest room.

-IGV

After a moment Nadia scratched her head, a perplexed look on her face. “I haven’t the foggiest idea what this dude’s talkin’ about. Guess I’ll bring it up at the meetin’.” She put the paper in one of her new leather pouches and clasped it tight. Before turning to go, she glanced back at the penguin. “Oh! One last thing. Didja see any polar bears?”

“Polar bears?” The receptionist rubbed the underside of his beak with a flipper. “I don’t think so, no.”

Nadia grinned. “Makes sense. You guys are ‘polar’ opposites after all.”

After blinking for a moment, the penguin gave a weak sigh. “Ms. Fortune, it’s too early in the morning for puns.”

“Hey, just breakin’ the ice!” Nadia said indignantly before giving a sly wink. “...Berg!”

She sped out of the hotel cackling, opening her complimentary umbrella on the way. With plenty of money still in her pocket, Nadia knew just where she wanted to go before the team reunited to figure out what their next step would be: Seam’s. The feral made a beeline through the rainy streets to where she remembered that distinctive stitched-together tent being last night, and after only a couple wrong turns she managed to find it. It seemed a lot bigger than she remembered, though. Upon entering, she found herself surrounded by all sorts of random odds and ends, including a whole host of living plushies.

“Hee hee. Welcome, traveler,” a voice said from the far end of the store, drawing Nadia’s attention away from the strange assortment of goods. At the back on a colorful patchwork rug sat a purple and orange cat with a sutured face and a single spinning button eye.

How fun! Nadia made her way over to crouch in front of her fellow feline. “Seam, I presume?” she said with a smile.

“Hehe, yes. The name's Seam. Pronounced ‘Shawm’. And this is my little Seap. Ha ha ha ha…”

The feral grinned. “That’s pretty good…”

“Over the years, I've collected odds and ends,” Seam continued. Course, I've no attachment to any of it. It's just a hobby of mine.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m looking for a new weapon, and you can have these, too. Anchors from the eastern seaboard!” She set Massachusetts’ broken-off anchors down before him. “I used ‘em as axes, but I figured I could do better, so I thought I’d ‘axe around.”

Seam accepted the anchors and gave a small handful of Geo in return. “Thanks for that. What do you like to buy?”

“Oh, haven’t decided yet. I’ll take a look around.”

“Take your time... Ain't like it's better spent,” Seam chuckled.

Nadia poked around the shop. Perhaps thanks to the City of Tears’ mostly peaceful nature, there weren’t a lot of weapons, but she kept digging. Pawn shops like this were probably regular stops for any adventurers who came through, hoping to get something for all the loot they gained in their adventures that they didn’t need or want. Even a valuable piece of equipment might be useless to someone who couldn’t use it, after all. Sure enough, she got her hands on a couple pieces of weaponry, like a big shuriken, a sour battle-axe, and a heavy bone hammer clotted with blood, but nothing struck her fancy until she unearthed a metal case with two protruding handles. They looked like pistols, but they didn’t have any barrels or anything, and when she drew one from the case she laid eyes on a segmented blade that extended from the device’s underside. “Box cutters?” she murmured. That’s what they looked like, but they were huge. When fully drawn and held upside-down, with the trigger below her pinky, it was basically a sword. Pushing in the trigger detached the blade from the grip, though reattaching it was easy enough. After shaking the case itself, Nadia realized that it must contain extra blades. Two swords with replaceable blades, eh? “Not bad.” She took the weapon over to Seam.

“Kagari Rokushikisouken,” Seam said when presented with the weapon. Confronted by Nadia’s baffled expression, the cat explained. “The paired swords, hee hee hee. Fell out of the sky one day, probably sunk to the bottom of the lake up above and through one of the cracks. Everything that ends up here has its story, whether or not anyone still lives to tell it, hee hee.”

Nadia ended up paying a lot for it, which on top of her previous expenses cut a pretty big hole in her new funds. Easy come, easy go, she supposed. She slung the case over her back and put the grips in her belt, reasoning that when it came time to use them she could whip them out and insert a blade in each of them before the fight began. Lighter, longer, easier to use, and more versatile than the anchors, the box cutters (she’d already forgotten their full name) seemed very promising, and she couldn’t wait to try them out. After that, Nadia hurried back the way she came. It had to be close to nine by now. No matter what came of the Seekers’ reunion, she expected she’d get to use her new swords soon enough.