After another quick lunch with Pit, Roxas found himself wandering the port town on his own again. Well, not actually alone. Scamp was now following after him every step of the way. Of course, that begged the question of what to do now. He supposed at some point he ought to return to the Virgin Victory and introduce Scamp to everyone, but Roxas wanted to look around a little bit more before he did that.

Eventually the Nobody came across a park of some kind. It had a playground but it also curiously had a couple of areas marked by white chalk or paint drawings of rectangular battle lines. These were spots intended to be used for Pokemon or Pal battles. In fact one of the areas was occupied by a pair of kids battling with what looked like a couple of foxes. Clearly different types of foxes though, as one of them was reddish orange and it’s tail had a fiery tip while the other one was a sort of lavender color with white paws and white tips on its ears and tail - and it also looked to be wearing a dark blue cape of some kind. Unfortunately Roxas couldn’t tell if these were Pals or Pokemon, nor could he even tell who was winning between the two.

“That Foxsparks doesn’t stand a chance, if ya ask me.” Said an unfamiliar voice. Roxas looked to see a young kid had come up next to him to see the battle. He was dressed in a yellow t-shrt, blue shorts, and a blue baseball cap that he wore on his head backwards. “That Nox doesn’t go down easily, and I should know. I just got back from the Pokemon Center after losing to them.”

”Um… which one is which?” Roxas asked, having no idea which of the Pals was the Foxsparks and which one was the Nox. Although moments after asking he realized that Foxsparks was probably the one with the flame in its tail.

“Nox is the dark one with the cape.” the Youngster clarified. After that he got a look on his face and then smirked, “After losing I could use a little pick-me-up. You look weak! C’mon, let’s find out which of our Pokemon is tougher!” And without really giving Roxas the option to back down, the two trainers were now locking eyes in one of the battle zones. Youngster Joey wanted to battle.



The kid reached for his Poke Ball and threw it, releasing a small purple rat Pokemon from within it. Youngster Joey sent out Rattata! The Pokemon gave a squeaky-sounding cry and awaited for whatever command that was about to be given to it.

”Go! Scamp!” Roxas with a point of his finger toward the battlefield. Scamp leaped out from behind him and barked at the Rattata in front of him. ”Use Nuzzle!”

“Quick Attack!” Joey called in response. Unfortunately for Scamp, Rattata’s Quick Attack made it attack first and managed the first hit as a result, “Ha, too slow!” Joey taunted. But maybe he spoke too soon, since Scamp’s Nuzzle still managed to connect afterward resulting in his Rattata becoming paralyzed. “Shake it off, Rattata, you’ve got this! Use Quick Attack!”

”Go for it, Scamp!” Roxas shouted with encouragement, ”Use Spark!” Unlike the first time around, the paralysis kept Rattata from moving right away and thus he was given a solid hit by the electrified tackle that was Spark. But Roxas’ opponent didn’t look like he was giving up any time soon. In fact, if anything it almost looked like he was glad his Rattata had been afflicted with a status ailment.

“Hyper Fang!” Joey called out. This time his Rattata was able to move in for the attack, but it was still slowed somewhat by the paralysis allowing Scamp the chance to dodge out of the way of the biting attack that was coming his way. And good thing, too. Unbeknownst to Roxas, Rattata’s Guts ability made its attacks even stronger while it was afflicted with status effects.

”He’s up close now, so use Bite!” Roxas called, reasoning that a Bite would be easier to land from such close range versus a tackle-style attack like Spark. It paid off, Scamp managing to land another solid hit on Rattata and even managing to make it flinch.

“C’mon Rattata, we’ve still got a shot at this!” Joey said, not fazed by the battle turning in his opponent’s favor, “It’s all or nothing now, use Hyper Fang!”

”Meet ‘em head on with Spark, Scamp!” Roxas called, then watched as the two Pokemon barreled into each other. Both managed to land their attacks, but while the Hyper Fang was indeed quite a strong hit, the damage Rattata had already taken by this point allowed Scamp to edge him out and emerge victorious. ”Yeah! You did it, Scamp!” The pup bounded back up to his trainer and licked his face in celebration.

“Return, Rattata.” said Joey, recalling the Pokemon back to its Poke Ball. “Shoot! Lost again! Ah well, them’s the breaks I guess." Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bit of money that he pushed into Roxas’ hand.

”Huh? You don’t have to give me this.” Roxas said with a confused look.

“Nah, it’s the rule.” Joey said with a shrug, “Battles wouldn’t be very exciting if there wasn’t anything on the line after all. Don’t worry about it, I’ll earn that back in a heartbeat - just you wait.” he said before beginning to walk away in order to get his Rattata healed again.



”C’mon Scamp, you should probably get healed up too.” Roxas told Scamp. They went ahead and followed Joey to the Pokemon Center where everyone was healed up. Joey then said his goodbyes and went off to no doubt train his Rattata some more.

After that it was Roxas’ turn to decide what to do next, ”Let’s head back and let you meet all others.” He suggested, beckoning for Scamp to follow him in the direction of the docks where he remembered the Virgin Victory was currently parked. The Yamper happily followed after him, proud that he won their first official battle as Trainer and Pokemon.

Blazermate soon learned there wasn't all that much to see after hovering around a bit. Susie and her chatted for a bit before splitting up again, discussing what was going on and how the teams would be split up again and all that before going their own ways on the waterfront. Not wanting to hear Susie do some business with the local farms, Blazermate drifted off and eventually found herself in the local infirmary healing what injuries she could. She couldn't heal most sickness, but she could heal physical injuries and some conditions easily, quickly, and with little effort which she did. This greatly sped up the recovery of said patients, and earned her a bit of money on the side as she waited for everyone else to come up with something fun to do.

Susie meanwhile had just finished up the cone of ice creams he bought as she walked with Blazermate, splitting with the medic bot when she saw some business to be made. Sure the farmers market itself wasn't all that impressive, but that gave her an idea which she could satisfy later when she saw the equipment. Midgar would be needing quite a bit of food as it got restarted, so why not get something up and running here? Fully automated of course assuming she had the time to rig that all up. Although from what she could tell, it seemed even Blazermate wanted a few days to de-stress from the constant fighting and she was a combat bot! So she figured she had a day or two to enact her plan. Although once Susie saw the equipment, she found that it wouldn't take nearly as long as she thought to get it automated and working for Haltmann Works.

Although this was an idea that she found wouldn't work since well... Land was expensive. She knew this, since thats what Haltmann Works had been doing for ages, but she forgot how bad it was when she wasn't the one involved with the roboticization and harvesting operations and had to buy from others. A few thousand dollars? Yeah, the seekers didn't have anything like that in their reserves. It was more expensive than most of the equipment they had seen! Well, there was something she could do at least to tide herself over and get a little bit of business done for the time being. She could offer her services to automate the equipment for the current farmers for a fee, although with only her PDA she couldn't charge them a subscription as you would normally do, so she could only get a flat fee for her work. Still, the tinkering would give her something to do besides meander around much like Blazermate seemed to like to do.

And finally Roland, who was a bit surprised that Goldweis not only picked up the bill, but was also short on money? Wasn't he some kinda bigshot? Roland figured he'd be loaded, but no, instead he was having to scrub dishes or rather, fight the chef for his meal. Well, Roland did like the simplicity of the situation anyway and decided to just watch the fight. Not the first cook hes seen fight, but the last one was a giant shark, so this could be a lot better.

”Wait but what about kirby?” that was jrs first question when Kamek relayed the information they’d received from Asgore. They were doing so not upon a paper boat, or on stag back, but instead in a little catcafe (a cafe for cats!) which served all sorts of delightful drinks as well as snacks galore.

Outside cats pulling trains and cats not pulling trains went about their day, fortunately not all swarming to take them down this time. The others were out there somewhere as well, most likely hunting pons, but the troop had delegated that to Minions, specifically Kamek’s toadies.

That left them plenty of time to catch up on important exposition (the trip here having been taken up mostly by first consoling and then listening to Jr complaining about his near drowning experience) hence the resulting Kirby question.

Kamek sighed upon hearing it, having failed to explain general relativity to his king, only to have an idea, pushing his spectacles up, causing them to flash in the light as he grinned.

”Why by using time travel of course young master!” he lied, or perhaps simplified, depending on how you looked at it ”In order to outrun Galeem’s shot, he traveled so fast that he raced into the future, hence avoiding multiversal annihilation by simply not being here when it happened. It being a spur of the moment thing however, it seems he overshot the start of all this by quite some time. Who knows how long really, but Asgor claims it has been a lot. In people years anyway, I imagine it has still been the blink of an eye compared to the age of our own universe, hence how Kirby’s landing was a bit off”

”Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh” Jr replied with comprehension, while Bowser asked instead ”why didn’t you just say that the first time instead of going on about how, uh, something about going fast making time slow or something?”

”Oh, ah, because I needed some time to process it all, is the thing. My apologies for doing such a poor job earlier” Kamek lied again, before getting ahead of the next question and saying ”and no, I can’t just build another time machine and travel back in time to fix things, because we had no idea where the cliff face upon which Galeem first fought is, if it even exists at all any more”

”Lame” Jr complained, while Rika asked what was probably a pretty key question, which was ”So how are we going to avoid that? The light I mean? Because that’s very fast, right, and papa couldn’t avoid it last time. So what do we do when we go fight Galeem?”

”Last time was a fluke! A cheap shot! This time I’ll, uh, um...” Bowser replied, before failing to actually find an answer and scratching his head and failing to come up with an answer

”Couldn’t we use the time machine for that?” Jr asked, making Kamek grimace for a second about how his white lie was coming back to bit him, only to actually think about it for a moment.

”It wasn’t exactly combat capable. However… Perhaps we could use something like F’s rewind? To undo the beam attack when it occurs” Kamek theorized ”but any kind of time based solution would take, well, time to develop, not to mention resources and a magical workshop to perform my work in, none of which I am sure are available. Gallo and his Tower are the only real instance of magical learning we have really seen now that I think about it, myself and that dingy little dungeon excluded”

Suddenly Bowser pounded the table, causing their half finished glasses to jump into the air and land back down before he declared the solution he’d thought of ”A big mirror! That overgrown disco ball tires to blast us with light but then, ha, gotcha, big mirror to reflect the beam right back at it”

”I, well, hmmm” Kamek attempted to object, and yet failed to find any real objections to the base principle other than that surly Galeem was to powerful to be foiled by meer glass and silver, resulting in the others running away with the idea ”We could make you a big shiny tower shield!” ”or maybe reflective armor?”

”Oh dear” Kamek murmured as he rested his head on the table as they kept going, only to perk back up when his toadies appeared, carrying their collected spoils, namely the pons they needed to get a ride out of here.

”Ah thank badness. Looks like it’s time to hit the road. Or the rails rather” he said as they entered, before rising and saying ”let me just go settle the bill” before going and doing just so.

While he was at it, the royals received their pass paying pons from the toadies, after which Bowser demanded to know if they had seen any mirrors.

They had not.

”We’re going to a desert though, right? And you make sand out of glass… right? So they might have some” Jr pointed out, which enthused his father, who clapped him on the shoulder with a ”That’s my boy!” before declaring ”Let’s move out troop, we have a train catch!” and setting them on the path towards the yellow line.

Then they came back a couple of seconds later because Kamek was still fussing with paying.

But after that was done they were off to sunnier pastures!

Out of Zenkichi, Akane, and herself, Sandalphon ended up finishing her noodles last. While such laggardly conduct embarrassed her somewhat, she knew that too much of a rush could have ruined the experience in more ways than one. This kind of food demanded temperance, given its tendency to splash and stain, especially on snow-white clothing. Well-mannered restraint played a part in her relative slowness, but for the most part the blame lay with the simple fact that ramen wasn’t a very efficient way to consume nutrients. Then again, since her objective right now was technically relaxation, she considered easing up on her dedication to efficiency for once. As much as that went against her nature.

At the very least, the others didn’t seem to begrudge her presence, which made her grateful. Father and daughter alike seemed content to sit here on the bench beside her, enjoying the tranquil atmosphere. A refreshing, playful breeze blew in over the bay, driving the rhythmic crash of small waves against the port town’s wharf and the beaches to its north and south. The squawks of seabirds around the docks mixed with the birdsong from Everdream Valley, providing a natural background to the comings and goings of the townsfolk, lively but not clamorous. Everywhere one looked, one could find vivid colors, and living things. To a long-time city-dweller, used to the stagnant, chemical-ridden funk of Midgar, the clear, fresh air here might come as a shock–a startling realization of just how good life could be. Sandalphon would have appreciated this place alone, but sharing it with Zenkichi and Akane somehow enhanced the experience much more than she expected. This sense of fulfillment, she realized, must be happiness.

Their ramen finished, Akane had been petting and fussing over Maru while Zenkichi looked around, enjoying the sights and remembering the last time he’d gone to the beach, with the kids. They practically had to drag him away from the RV to get him to relax. And when he’d fallen asleep, the punks had buried him in the sand and turned him into a mermaid! A nostalgic smile crossed his face when he thought of the memory, because as annoying as it was at the time, it was still something he thought of fondly.

Sandalphon rose from the bench. She turned to the others and gave them an apologetic bow. “Thank you for your patience, and for your company. I had not realized how much I needed a break like this, nor to the degree to which I’ve already overindulged in inactivity.” Her eyes narrowed, her critical gaze not meant for her companions. “It seems my overall performance may be slipping, possibly as a result of my fusions or recent experiences. I must renew my efforts.” She took a deep breath in through her nose and turned her attention toward the Virgin Victory. “Between our campaign’s reorganization, optimization, and expansion, there is much that I must do. I must beg your leave.”

Zenkichi got up as she did, holding his hands up to gesture for her to stop. ”Woah, woah, we’ve barely checked out a few stalls and had lunch! That’s hardly a break. We just fought through the most heavily-defended part of Midgar, took out two Consuls, kind of, and defeated both the Guardian and some of the strongest people in Midgar. You’re gonna run yourself ragged if you don’t let yourself relax for more than an hour, Sandalphon.” He turned to Akane, frowning. ”I didn’t just say any of that.” Smooth.

“Uh huh, sure thing, dad.” His daughter rolled her eyes, running her hands through her Pal’s fur with a loving smile on your face. “You are so adorable!”

The rather sudden and emotive response stopped Sandalphon in her tracks. Her pupils flashed exclamation marks, then became inverted triangles before returning to normal as her head tilted slightly. “I…see where you’re coming from. Compared to my usual duties, our recent endeavors are more intense, with far more hands-on action than I’m accustomed to. Yet we’ve also managed to achieve a great deal, despite the greater challenges.” She relaxed her posture somewhat, sliding her hands into her coat pockets. “I tend to be critical with myself, but changing circumstances mean I must temper my expectations and focus on adaptation. Overworking myself would be unwise.” Once again she bowed her head at Zenkichi, her radiant halo dipping slightly. “I appreciate your concern for my well-being.”

”I mean, I did just see you passed out in your chair past midnight last night. This morning, whatever. Be kind of a shitty friend if I wasn’t at least a tiny bit concerned about that.” Zenkichi admitted, shoving his own hands into his pockets and relaxing a little. ”But yeah, field work is a [lot] more tiring than desk or support stuff. I’ve had my fair share of both, and while it can be exhausting to manage paperwork for ten hours straight, at least my knees aren’t practically knocking into each other by the time I’m done.” He joked, chuckling.

As they spoke, Sandalphon became aware of thunder rumbling in the distance. Though the sky had been bleak and overcast all morning, a glance southward led to the discovery of a thick, heavy stormfront, darkening the clouds as it steadily traveled northward. After gauging the distance, Sandalphon observed that the storm would be here before too long. “It looks like a storm is coming. Quite a few miles away still, but it appears to be moving quickly. I give us approximately ninety minutes.” She turned her attention back to Zenkichi, Akane, and Maru. “Let’s take advantage of this extended break while we can.”

”Hour and a half, huh? Alright, I can work with that.” Looking back at the stalls they’d explored, then to the more sturdily-built storefronts, and had a thought. ”Ya know, we could make it a multi-purpose trip. Not entirely leisure, but not quite work, either. I’ve been meaning to make use out of some materials I got from some of the machines we fought in the slums, so if we found a blacksmith or something, wonder if they might be able to do something with it. And who knows, maybe they could take a look at your staff or that rifle you got.” It wasn’t a total day of relaxation like one might expect at a beachfront, but he did intend to make use out of that memory alloy and machine cores.

Sandalphon nodded, pleased with the blend of pleasure and practicality. “By all means.”

Once they disposed of their empty ramen bowls, the three got up for another romp through Port Meridian in search of a craftsman. Though they weren’t necessarily in a rush, there was only so much time on the close, so they moved at a purposeful, brisk pace. As they searched through the various storefronts, they happened to pass through the scenic town square. Full of potted plants, flower boxes, and vibrant buildings, it featured a tall fountain in the middle, and looked altogether lovely. This place seemed to be popular with couples, with or without children who played and ran alongside their family pets. After admiring the sight for a moment, hower, Sandalphon noticed something incongruous with the happy scene, hidden within the architecture itself. The plaza’s central stone dias, octagonal in shape, rested on a large metal disc built into the ground. It bore a ring-shaped pane, and beneath the surface of what looked like a giant gauge blazed purple flame, a fourth of the way around the ring. That huge dial gave what would have otherwise been a very pleasant spot a backdrop of foreboding. “Strange,” Sandalphon murmured. She logged her observance for further analysis.

She did not dwell on it for long, however, since the trio found a smith soon after. Though possessed of deep red hair, emerald-green eyes, and flashy clothes paired with an enormous greatsword, this artisan lacked something important; she seemed to be a mute. Sandalphon, Zenkichi, and Akane caught her only a few minutes after Midna’s own order got completed, so the silent smith was warmed up and ready to rock. While Sandalphon lacked materials of her own and didn’t plan to present either the Aether Lance or Eye of Sol for maintenance, Zenkichi could try and communicate whatever he needed.

”Good afternoon. I wanted to see about getting a sword worked on, or maybe getting a new…one…” Zenkichi greeted the woman, only to trail off as his eyes locked onto a sword resting against the wall. Though, calling it a sword was perhaps inaccurate, given its size and roughness. It was more like a coarse lump of iron than a proper sword, but still, it called to him. ”Uh, sorry about that. How much for that huge sword back there? I have some things I can barter with,” Zenkichi said, pulling out the machine cores he was holding onto.

The warrior smith pursed her lips. Having just been through the song and dance with her previous customer, and miscommunicated a fair bit about her world in the process, she seemed hesitant to go through the effort again. By now, Sandalphon had noticed the redhead’s conspicuous lack of speech so far, and begun to hypothesize. When the smith glanced over to appraise the greatsword, then turned back and started holding up fingers, Sandalphon felt all but certain. In the end, the asking price for the heavy weapon seemed to be six thousand zenny, which seemed reasonable as far as the archangel was concerned. Iron might not be a premium metal, and the ultra greatsword seemed quite crude in terms of craftsmanship, but it must have taken more than its fair share of materials and labor. Plus, it certainly made for an eye-catching attraction, showing off just what this silent smith could achieve.

“Six thousand,” she stated, looking at Zenkichi. “If money is tight, I would be happy to assist. There is no better investment than the safety of my allies. Though…” Her eyes fixated on the object of the detective’s desire. “It may be prudent to ensure that you can lift and swing that weapon first.”

“Yeah, dad, wouldn’t want to go and throw your back out or something.” Akane snarked, though her tone made it clear she was mostly joking.

”Ya know, if that thing wasn’t so absurdly massive, I’d be offended.” He said, stretching his back out and then his arms. ”But yeah, that looks like something an Oni might carry, hah.” Stepping up to the weapon, he turned his head to the smith and raised an eyebrow, receiving a nod in return. Taking a deep breath, Zenkichi grabbed the colossal sword and lifted, the weapon taking a good amount of effort, but still liftable. Releasing the breath and holding the sword, he flipped it so the tip of the blade was pointing to the ground, finding that he could hide a solid portion of his frame behind the sheer width of the blade.

”Oh wow, this thing is huge, it’s almost like a shield too.” Holding and examining the weapon, Zenkichi gave a resolute nod. ”Yeah, I…definitely think I want this thing.” He said, looking over to Sandalphon. ”It’s a bit soon to be calling it in, but do you think you could pitch in for this? I’ll go find somebody to sell those cores to and pay you back, just…rather not go running all over the place, ya know?” He asked, ears a little red from embarrassment.

Sandalphon nodded immediately, not sure why he'd be embarrassed, but compelled to help him feel comfortable relying on her. “Of course. Happy to be of service.” She produced her wallet, a belted pouch of white with a diamond-stitched pattern and a shiny gold-tine button. Her employment with DespoRHado Enforcement might not have made her much richer than her time with the Lateran Church, but the archangel was nothing if not frugal, and could easily cover the cost. Once the smith received her payment, she hefted the greatsword easily, placing it on her workbench for a final polish before wrapping the base of the blade in a leather sling that Zenkichi could wear like a backpack. As scabbards went it left a lot to be desired, but it beat carrying the massive thing in his hands. The sight of him handling the ultra greatsword seemed to amuse Sandalphon somewhat. “If you did lack sufficient strength, I imagine that simply carrying that around would be an expedient way to build it.”

”Oh yeah, no way somebody could stay lanky carrying this huge thing around.” He joked, gently placing his hand on the sword before it de-materialized, joining his other weapons in Valjean’s storage. ”Oh, and don’t worry about that,” he reassured the smith, ”it’s just a thing I do. It’ll be back when I need it. Thank you for that, I’ll be sure to make good use of it.” Giving a small bow of the head to the woman, he nodded happily. That was really simple.

”Alright, so other than finding somewhere to sell these machine cores to pay you back, Sandalphon, it looks like we’ve got some time to hang out, all three, or I guess four, of us.” Looking around, Zenkichi found a random direction that looked kind of nice, and pointed. ”After being in the city so long, I think a nice walk around the countryside sounds nice. Get some fresh air, see the place, ya know?” His suggestion was met by a nod from Akane and an affirmative from Sandalphon, so with that, the trio set off.

As they walked, the three passed a number of farmsteads, a couple of sprawling ranches with tractors slowly crawling through their crops, watching and adoring the various Pals working the fields. Akane had her hands full trying to keep up with Maru the whole time they were walking, but she spent the whole time laughing and chasing the playful Cremis.

After around a half hour of walking, Zenkichi paused and turned to look back towards the port town they’d left, getting quite the view from the hill the group had found themselves on. They could see a number of farms between them and the port, and the approaching storm off in the distance, still coming in quickly. ”This is probably as far as we should go. That storm’s getting closer and closer.”

Sandalphon observed the scenery, both facing back down the way she and the others came, and out into the valley. The hilltop where the three ended up featured a bunch of old ruins, all overgrown with moss, grass, and twisted roots. In fact, the ground beneath them looked like the face of a colossal coin, its etched words and emblems painted over in verdant green. To the south, the rolling hills extended for miles and miles, the green pastures where creatures grazed interwoven with fields of golden grain in an immense patchwork quilt. Eventually the farmland gave way to a watery rift, where the Everdream Valley, the western mountain range, and the bay to the east converged, shrouded in the bluish atmospheric haze. Above that sunken lake, immense structures hung in the air, from small islands to huge gears that turned as steadily as the sky from night to day. If not for the dark storm clouds, it would have been an idyllic landscape, but to Sandalphon it still harbored an awesome beauty.



When Zenkichi suggested heading back, she didn’t respond right away for once. He was right, of course, but against her better judgment Sandalphon hesitated. The time she’d shared with him and Akane today made her happy in a way she hadn’t felt before, that feeling probably another byproduct of her fusion with ordinary humans, but no less precious for it. It was only a moment, but she didn’t want it to end.

If only now could last forever.

But it couldn’t. All the thoughts running through her head culminated in a conclusion, and breathed in deep through her nose. “Zenkichi Hasegawa,” she began, her tone formal. “After enjoying this time spent with you and Akane, and seeing your compassionate heart for myself, I have decided on something important. Will you sit down?” She beckoned him toward the flat rock that she stood beside.

Zenkichi startled a bit at the way Sandalphon said his name, and then what she said after, but nodded and slowly walked to the rock he was pointed towards. ”Uhh, yeah, sure thing…” He flatly replied, a tinge of confusion in his voice. Akane, meanwhile, had stopped with Maru sitting next to her, looking at the angelic woman incredulously.

Once he seated himself, Sandalphon turned and gracefully knelt before him on one knee. Her face was deadpan, and her pupils betrayed nothing. “I have a proposal for you,” she told him.

Both Akane’s and Zenkichi’s faces reflected their utter bewilderment at the current situation, the former seeming more annoyed, and even a bit angry, while the latter was trying to figure out what exactly was happening and what he’d done to deserve the withering glare his daughter was giving him. ”Uuuuuuhhhhhh….what…might that be…?” Zenkichi trailed, eyes pleading with Akane over Sandalphon’s head not to murder them both then and there.

Her gaze did not waver as she continued. “I have the authority to unite us in a holy agreement that will bind us together going forward. I firmly believe this partnership would greatly benefit both you and your daughter.” She opened her hand to reveal a glowing blue circlet, adorned with gold and alight with miraculous power. “Will you accept my light, for the sake of a brighter future?”

“You. Cannot. Be. For real!” Akane ground out through gritted teeth as Zenkichi sat up like a rocket and looked between the two of them, hands out as if to ward off a fight. “It’s been one date! And I’m RIGHT HERE!” She growled, causing Maru to look around in confusion to find whatever had upset her new master, completely oblivious to the social tension that hung thick in the air.

”Uhhh, Sandalphon, while I definitely appreciated our talk last night, and today was fun…don’t you think this is…a bit much? And definitely too soon!” He added the last bit rapidly, though that just had Akane look at him even more harshly, as if she was hoping he’d confirm there wasn’t something going on. For his part, Zenkichi looked as if he was being pulled apart at the seams, trying not to break poor Sandalphon’s heart while also warding off his daughter’s frustrations.

“Hmm?” The archangel looked confused herself, her pupils flashing question marks as she looked between father and daughter. She seemed baffled that somebody would even consider turning down her proposal, considering how much benefit it offered. The halo in her palm faded as she tried to reason with him. “Too…soon? But…we could be forced to fight again at any moment. My covenant would grant you powers that would greatly aid in your sustainability on the battlefield.”

Her pupils turned to exclamation marks. “Oh. Oh, I see. I beg your pardon. I shouldn’t have expected you to agree without explaining the specific blessings you would receive.” She stood up, conjuring a screen that gained pop-ups as she spoke. Her pupils flashed stress marks. “By accepting this covenant, you would be granted three Protocols, each of which confer a blessing whenever you use a skill. A defense boost for Preservation Protocol, a heal for Restoration Protocol, and an affliction cleanse from Purification Protocol.” She dismissed the informative screen, continuing matter-of-factly. “After recalling the distinct abilities you used in battle, like Triple Down and Megidolaon, I concluded you’d be the ideal recipient of this power. Are you following so far? I can go into more detail on the ‘Locked Sigil’ mechanic if so.”

Both Zenkichi and Akane looked at one another, then back to Sandalphon, then at one another, then back to Sandalphon, before letting out a sigh. “Yeeeeeaaahhhh, it sounded like you were asking him to marry you.” Zenkichi merely groaned, nodding his head a little at Akane’s clarification.

”The whole…kneeling down. Offering me a ring. Halo. Thing. And you literally said you had a proposal for me. We, uh…yeah. Thought that. I was wondering what you meant, but it certainly sounded more…romantic than practical.” Sighing as he ran his hand through his hair, Zenkichi nodded. ”Uh, yes, more details would probably be nice. Though, that does sound useful.”

Sandalphon stared for a moment, her pupils in the form of loading spinners. Then she looked away, her pale features almost imperceptibly reddening. “I…see. Forgive me. That was not my intention, but I can see why you thought so.” Her voice dropped to a slightly incredulous murmur. “I thought such a stance was customary among humans when proposing life-changing contracts…” She cleared her throat and turned back toward Zenkichi, her pupils back to stress marks. “I only recently began to express feelings, and they seem to be interfering with my communication abilities.”

She shook her head, though for some reason or another she still seemed a little put out. “No matter. Regarding ‘Locked Sigil’, it is a three hundred second period after a fight begins during which you have access to any one Protocol at a time. If you reach zero, you will gain access to all three with the use of every skill. Using skills will reduce the time by six seconds, and cleansing an affliction will reduce it by eighteen. When combat ends, the Locked Sigil state will reset.” Having rattled off a lot of information very quickly, the motor-mouthed archangel paused for a second to catch her breath. “My covenant works autonomously, and I do not have to be present for it to function. Its judicious use should drastically boost your odds of survival in any combat scenario.”

”Hey, it’s all good. Emotions can be…tricky.” That was the understatement of the century, but it was hardly inaccurate. He took a few moments to think about it, but there didn’t really seem to be any downsides. ”I accept, Sandalphon. I accept your covenant. Thank you for trusting me like this.” Akane pulled a face at the way he said it, but with the misunderstanding cleared up, didn’t seem all that upset anymore, gently scratching behind one of Maru’s ears.

“Now that that’s over with, can we go back to the ship? I really don’t like the look of that storm.” Akane urged, a small frown on her face.

Now it was Sandalphon’s turn to admonish Zenkichi’s rush. “Just one moment, please. We do need to make a binding agreement before the covenant will take effect.” She conjured a large screen completely plastered with text, all arranged in a very officious format and with copious usage of thick legalese. Despite its size, it featured a tiny scrollbar on the right side, and moving it even a little sent pages and pages of text tumbling by. “If this arrangement is acceptable, please indicate that you agree to the terms and conditions.” On the bottom right of the screen, there was a button that read ‘I do’.

Zenkichi’s eyes bugged out a bit at the sheer volume of text before him, eyes trying to scan the document for any hidden secrets or rules. He didn’t find anything that stood out, but after a minute or so, he was starting to mentally check out, so he dragged the slider slowly down, pausing every few seconds to scan the page, before reaching the bottom. When he clicked ‘I do’, he let out a little sigh. ”Alright, and that’s that. Covenant accepted.”

“Good.” The screen vanished, but Sandalphon didn’t move to leave. Instead she lifted up her hands, her palms up as if holding an invisible tray out for Zenkichi to take. “Now, please give me your hands,” she requested, monotone. Her pupils seemed to be sparkles again.

Zenkichi complied, prompting a roll of the eyes from Akane, who watched with feigned disinterest at whatever weird ritual her father and this woman were performing. ”Alright, I’m ready.” Zenkichi confirmed.

After gently taking Zenkichi’s hands, Sandalphon turned them up and interlaced her fingers with his. Her pupils began to change symbols rapid-fire, and a warm feeling passed between the two of them. After a few seconds they reverted back to sparkles, and she gave a final squeeze before releasing him. A bright light shone over Zenkichi’s head, cast by a glowing blue halo rather like a glowstick, adorned with golden bangles. The next moment it vanished, but a slight sensation of warmth remained. “Covenant successfully established,” Sandalphon reported. “Preservation Protocol will activate the next time you use a skill, and you can switch your own Protocol at your convenience. Thank you for your patience.”



”Alright. Covenant established. Sounds good.” Zenkichi replied, a little bit awkwardly, before taking a breath and nodding a few times. ”Thank you, really. I’m sure this will come in handy. Preservation, Restoration, and Purification, right? The three protocols?” He clarified.

“Correct. And you’re welcome.” By now, the wind was really starting to whip the trio’s hair and clothes, not to mention interfere with their conversation. Sandalphon glanced up at the sky, knowing that the storm could descend any moment. “Apologies for the delay. We should definitely return to the ship.” Her eyes narrowed as she prepared to set off. “This weather strikes me as supernatural in origin.”

Zenkichi’s mouth thinned into a line, and his eyes narrowed along with Sandalphon’s. ”Yeah, we should definitely get back. That…doesn’t look good.” Akane, for her part, picked up on the implication, returning Maru to her Sphere and frowning. ”Akane, if anything happens, put me between you and it. Same for you, Sandalphon. I’ve got your backs.”

Huh. For a second there, Akane could have sworn that her dad seemed…cool. Weird.

As Geralt savored the giant soft pretzel she’d been brought, dipping it into and taking large portions of the cheese sauce that came with it, she thought on what the Seekers’ next move would be. Getting back in communication with the others was a given, but would they attempt to recreate what they had with Alcamoth, or develop a more decentralized system so that there would never be a single base to attack. It would probably be foolish to give the Consuls another glaringly obvious target, especially before dealing with the ones who had attacked Alcamoth in the first place. Still, all of that was of secondary importance at the moment to finding out what had actually happened to the survivors.

She sighed, tearing off another chunk and dipping it in cheese sauce before stuffing it into her mouth, savoring the rich flavor. “I love those things,” Siobhan said, coming back around for another quick chat between her few customers. “Though they’re not so great if you’re trying to watch your figure.” Geralt hummed in response to that.

“I’m active enough that it shouldn’t be a problem.” This got a chuckle out of Siobhan, who gestured to the armor and the swords on her back.

“Had a feeling. You a mercenary or something like that?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Geralt obfuscated, taking another sip of her drink.

Though Siobhan checked on her customers habitually, happy to make conversation, she could tell when someone happened to be taciturn by nature. Clearly, it would take more than one beverage to make Geralt open up about whatever might be troubling her, if indeed any demons lurked deep beneath those still waters. Of course, the same couldn’t be said for all the bar’s clientele. While the drinksmith’s Dreamjolt Hostlery maintained a quiet, intimate atmosphere, there were still customers who’d worked up a serious thirst. The more booze they quaffed, the more forthcoming they became, and Siobhan made time to listen to every one.

This didn’t apply solely to humans, either. Though the bar’s customers numbered relatively few overall, monsters seemed to be disproportionately represented among them. Geralt could see a four-eyed alien sipping a bizarre mixture, a surly yeti with a tall glass of Ice SoulGlad, an weepy horror gasping to itself, and even a beefy red alligator with a tiny wine glass. Even those that looked downright dangerous made no trouble, however, instead quietly nursing their cocktails of choice. Though the noticeable non-human presence might explain why only a handful of ordinary folks patronized this establishment, the keen observer might get another impression: that this hostelry offered something altogether different from the typical taproom in the first place. Rather than lively socialization, it offered solitude for reflection, the chance to be alone with one’s thoughts–and one’s true nature. These glasses, so thoroughly polished by the bright-eyed bartender that one could see oneself in them, were mirrors, and within the customers could find the courage to face themselves.

Geralt wasn’t feeling quite so introspective yet, but her decision to separate from the other Seekers at the first opportunity belied her own similarities with the other patrons of the bar- if her inhuman appearance didn’t.

Slowly Geralt’s Wake and Slumber dwindled, her pretzel diminished bite by bite. Outside, the sky steadily darkened, and customers came and went. While the Witcher considered getting something else, one of her fellow patrons sidled up to the bar. He appeared to be a ghoul in a suit and fedora, his fingers little more than blades, and he spoke in a whine like an old-fashioned cartoon gangster. “Ey, miss!”

Siobhan turned his way with a twinkle in her mint-green eyes, not at all put off by the ghoul’s hollow sockets or rictus grin. “Mr. Rubin, hey. How was your Wintry Garden?”

The ghoul carefully lifted a finger to his chin. “Not bad, not bad, but I’m lookin’ for somethin’ bitter, see? I ain’t lookin’ to get stuck in a rut, sinkin’ deep into all that cloyin’ sweetness. I need somethin’ that wakes me up, clears out the cobwebs, see? I wanna keep a cool head, and remember the old days like they really were!”

“Hmm…” Siobhan crossed her arms, her brows furrowed above a thoughtful smile. “Something bitter, not too strong, refreshing, with ice, that inspires a sense of nostalgia. You’re a man of rare vision, Mr. Rubin. I’m not sure anything on the menu checks all those boxes.”

Her words left the ghoul aghast. “You’re sayin’ you can’t do it!? Why, I oughta-!”

Siobhan crossed her arms with a chuckle, cutting him off. “Hah! When did I say that? I am a drinksmith, after all. Get ready for a shock, Mr. Rubin, because I’ll give you lightning in a bottle.”

Impressed with the way she accepted his vague challenge, the ghoul sat down two stools away to wait. Without delay, Siobhan got down to business, gathering a handful of ingredients from the shelves and coolers behind the bar. Her slender, practiced hands moved as if each had a mind of its own. While working, she happened to look up and catch Geralt watching. “Interested in mixology?” she asked.

“Of a sorts.” She admitted, watching the bartender mix. “Though I’ve mostly made medicinals, potions, that sort of thing.” Plenty of those, some of which she was still carrying, though she was not nearly as heavily kitted out as she’d have normally liked.

“Ah, bartender! If you’re not too busy, could I get a highball when you’re done? Liquor and ginger ale, please.” Asked a businessman who looked a bit put out by the other clientele, clearly an out-of-towner to the experienced bartender, who was occupied fashioning Mr. Rubin’s complex order.

“So, miss mercenary, how do you fancy yourself as a mixologist?” Siobhan asked, not even taking an eye off her work. The request came as a surprise to Geralt, who gave the bartender a look.

“I can mix a potion strong enough to strip paint off a plank of wood, I can probably manage my way around a drink.” She casually boasted, though she still wasn’t quite sure why she was being trusted with helping a stranger bartend. “Just point me to what I’m using and I’ll manage it.”

“Second shelf from the bottom, third bottle from the right, one and a half ounces, then take the hose with the button that says ginger ale, and fill him up.” Siobhan ordered as she measured a pour.

Geralt did as commanded, easily mixing the drink as requested with little fanfare or flourish, though she made sure to plaster an obviously-fake smile on her face as she gave the man his drink.

As the customer retreated with his beverage, Siobhan gave a nod of approval. “Easy enough, right? But mixology is like a good drink. It has layers.” As Geralt watched, she added an equal portion of pink Practitioner Pepper to the green-tinged Ice SoulGlad she’d just poured out. “When it comes to eliciting emotion, the right ingredients can create a very evocative flavor base,” she explained, using a long-handled spoon to stir the liquids into a homogeneous pale-gold solution. Carefully, the drinksmith wafted the flavor base up to her nostrils, and inhaled with her eyes closed. “Remembrance. Yearning. The fading light of yesteryear. This is the flavor base for nostalgia.” Reaching out her hand, Siobhan skimmed over a bottle of Redsunset Sauce. “Paired with sweetness, it offers comfort. You’ll end up with rose-colored glasses, but not the kind you wear on your face,” she joked with a smile.

Instead of the crimson jam, she took a narrow, tinted bottle of bright, almost alarmingly yellow liquid. “Fellblood Energy. Neither sweet nor strong, but quite stimulating.” She poured it on top of the nostalgic mix, then added a coin-shaped slice of lemon for decor. “When you see the past clearly, it can galvanize you into action. From embraced bitterness, newfound determination.” Siobhan headed over to Mr. Rubin and handed him his drink. “Here. I call it ‘Someday’.”

The ghoul’s rictus grin seemed to spread even wider. “Someday, huh? That’s when I’ll make it big. A drink as gold as my dreams!” He squeezed the lemon, then took a big gulp, simultaneously refreshed and jolted awake. “Ahh. Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about, see?”

Leaving her satisfied customer to finish his drink, Siobhan returned to Geralt. “You weren’t half bad with that highball. Or serving it, for that matter. Fake smiles are the one thing I can’t make.” She shrugged, then reached for a used glass. “I get along pretty well with monsters, but people tend to find me…well, a little odd, I suppose.” As she cleaned the glass off, she laughed through her nose. “Why not whip up a little something for yourself? My treat, as thanks for helping out.”

Geralt hummed, looking around at the ingredients and nodding. “Can’t say no to that offer,” She replied, quickly coming up with an idea for her own drink. She took a base of Fellblood Energy, added half as much Rejuvenating Soda Water, a tiny amount of Dream Jam, and finished the drink with a touch of Stellar Champagne, humming at her creation with a bit of pleasure. After the morning she’d had, she could use the pick-me-up. Sitting back at the bar, she thanked Siobhan and took a long sip.

“Oh, that’s nice. I needed this.” She admitted, sighing. “Feel like I’ve been going in circles. Find a new place, do a job, lose track of somebody, try to find them, and once I do I start all over again.” A small shake of the head followed, and another sip. “Just another day on the Path.”

Siobhan leaned onto the counter as she listened, her full attention on her customer and what the Witcher had to say. It looked like Geralt’s potion-making in the past really had set her up for success–striking gold with one’s first mix was rare. Her enjoyment seemed to please Siobhan in turn. The Halovian wore a warm smile as Geralt let slip a little more about her frustrations. “Sounds like the next time you find that somebody, you’d better grab on tight and never let go,” she advised playfully.

The next moment, though, her tone grew more serious. Maybe even a little wistful. “Even if we lose sight of our destination, we can keep moving forward as long as we have the people who matter most by our side, right?” Siobhan looked around the bar. “Many people who drink end up circling the drain. Stuck in a dreamlike trance with no way out. But it’s my hope that everyone who visits Dreamjolt, monster or otherwise, will find the spark they need to ignite their engines, and reach escape velocity.”

Down the bar, a customer waved Siobhan over. She gave Geralt a final smile, then left her in peace. Soon the bar’s customers lapsed into quiet, with only the clink of glasses and the rattle of ice cubes audible over the backdrop of soul-soothing jazz. The minutes slipped by in peaceful relaxation, not unlike meditation, as the cloudy sky outside continued to darken.

It wasn’t long before the soft, white-gray blanket of clouds over the Dystopiascape became a murky, gray-black tumult, angry and turbulent as a storm-tossed sea. Fiercer waves beat against Meridian’s docks, throwing up blasts of foam like punches, and the wind that drove them also hastened pedestrians on their way as it hissed in their ears. The rumble of thunder grew closer, and lightning flashed in the clouds. Though the cloud cover may have foreshadowed a storm for a while, the weather changed with surprising speed, sneaking up on the citizens of Everdream Valley. Vendors hurried to close up shop, while farmers gathered their uneasy livestock and herded them to safety with the help of Yampers, Herdiers, Spitzfyres, and Rayhounds. Though Dreamjolt Hostelry offered a safe haven from the coming storm, the weather outside managed to pierce the veil, convincing quite a few customers to go and take care of business elsewhere.

Just after Mr. Rubin bid the ladies farewell, a particularly bright flash of lightning cut through the midday dusk. The light cast a huge shadow through the doorway and across the hostelry’s back wall, terribly tall, broad, and dark. A frantic look toward the source revealed nothing, as far as any remaining patrons could see, but Siobhan’s eyes lingered a moment longer before she looked down to continue wiping her glasses.

Then the lightning came again, followed almost instantly by the crash of thunder, and when Siobhan looked up, she found an enormous man sitting at the bar in front of her, having come with such speed and silence that it seemed like he appeared from thin air.

Despite her formidable nature, Siobhan couldn’t help but flinch away, the hairs on the back of her neck on end. This newcomer stood just under nine feet tall, his shoulders broad and his arms almost apelike in size and strength. He wore futuristic cherry-red armor over a suit of gray and white, and a black velvet cape dangled behind him, further enhancing an already imposing silhouette. Pure white eyes with no visible pupils stared expectantly from inside his helmet as he leaned forward onto the bar, propped up on his elbows with clasped hands big enough to crush watermelons. This was no ordinary consul.

After a moment, Siobhan cleared her throat. “... Can I help you?”

The Consul’s voice was deep and commanding. “I hope so. I'd like a drink. The biggest you have. Plenty of ice. Nice and sweet. And so thick I could eat it with a spoon.”

Siobhan nodded briskly, her casual manner returning. “Gotcha, coming right up.” She quickly ran through her mental list of ingredients, which led her to purse her lips. “One moment while I grab some puffergoat milk, if you don't mind.”

“Take your time.” The Consul watched her go, his eyes on the swing of her hips, then glanced at Geralt. His gaze rested on her for only a moment before he turned and settled on the middle distance to wait.

Geralt raised an eyebrow when the Consul turned to her, but did not outwardly react, especially when he turned away, and let out the tiny breath she’d been holding. Consul. Has to be. But I thought each Guardian only had two guarding them…? Might’ve heard that we took down Y and came to investigate. Still so much we don’t know about them. She took a sip of her drink, keeping the massive man in her peripheral vision.

“Ducking out of the storm?” She casually inquired, not expecting much if anything out of the man, but unable to suppress her curiosity.

Her question prompted an amused snort. “The storm seems to follow me,” he replied, leaning back in his chair with an idle shrug. “Wherever I go.”

“Ugh,” Geralt groaned, leaning back in her chair like the 90-something old man she was inside, rather than the large, ghoulish woman she looked like. “Know the feeling.” The fact that she was commiserating with a Consul was not lost on her, but here she was. “What brings you out here?”

“A drink, of course,” the Consul replied, his haughty tone somewhat condescending. “I hear even monsters can get good service here.” He leaned on his elbow, his attention fully turned toward Geralt. “If you mean this little town, though, it’s true this isn’t my regular stomping grounds. I’m on the hunt, and I’ve ranged far afield in pursuit of my prey. But now, it feels like the chase is almost over.”

Siobhan returned at that moment with the Consul’s extra large drink already made, prepared away from the discomfort of prying eyes. It was mostly wine red, with an almost purple flavor base and a layer on top of white, garnished with a sticker of a hamster. “There you have it,” she told him, sliding the huge beverage his way. “One Chewing Gum, ice-cold and strong as an ox.”

The Consul accepted the drink with a nod. “Good.” Lifting one hand, he held it over the Chewing Gum with one finger extended. An arc of electricity jumped from his fingertip, igniting the beverage in an instant. It burned for only a moment as he slowly reached up toward the back of his helmet, where he pressed some sort of button. His helmet dissolved, as if digitally constructed in reverse, and down tumbled a mane of white-gray hair plus navel-length beard, adorned with golden beads. He lifted the glass to his lips and drank, gulping down the smoldering, almost toxic beverage with gusto. Only after draining a third of the extra-large glass did he set it down again, exhaling in delight. “Nectar,” he proclaimed. “Fit for a god.”

Another fool calling himself a god. Geralt thought, but her face betrayed not an ounce of her disdain for the man before her. Instead, she focused on his trick with the electricity igniting his drink, and nodded. “Not bad. That actually affect the taste at all, or just for flair?” She asked, finger circling the rim of her empty glass.

The old man snorted again. “The flame caramelizes sugar, adding a smoky flavor,” he told her succinctly. A slight air of indignation suggested that her insinuation touched on his pride. “I am no charlatan, girl. I never perform, or pretend. What you see is what you get.” He took another sip of his drink, much smaller this time, then smacked his lips. Then he nodded at Geralt. “I merely try to live my life to the fullest. As should we all. Whether the time we have is infinite…or very, very short.” Though his eyes blazed pure white, with no discernable pupils, Geralt could feel them staring into her own. “Don’t you think?”

Geralt gave a shrug, and replied without any heat, “As you said, we ought to live our lives to the fullest. If it gave you a little spark of joy to light your drink aflame for a moment, I’d not care if it changed the taste or it didn’t. Merely curious.” Clearly a touchy subject for this Consul. Geralt was playing a dangerous game, but given that he didn’t try to burn the place down and smite her with lightning, she figured he had other plans.

“As for me, can’t say the same. Am I a mutant, a monstrosity, an orphaned god, a soldier, or something else entirely? Could be any or all of ‘em. Not quite sure myself these days. But I do know one thing.” Geralt sighed, tapping the bar. “I’m not alone. Not yet.”

The Consul smirked at her. “How apropos.” He took a deep breath in through his nose, then allowed his shoulders to fall as he sighed. Then he shook his head. “A bit slow on the uptake, aren’t you? Well, now’s your chance to be quick.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Run along, child. Tell your friends on the ship about me. A nice head start should keep things interesting.” He pulled his drink close, leaving a wet streak of condensation on the counter. “You have until this glass is empty. Let us both savor what little we have left, hm?”

Rolling her eyes at the Consul’s insults, Geralt rebutted with little heat: “Figure’d with the fact you hadn’t tried to kill me the second you laid eyes on me, I’d at least try and be civil. See if I couldn’t talk to you. But alright.” She stood up, leaving some gold on the table for Siobhan. “Guess I’ll be seeing you soon, Consul.” And with that, she left to warn the others.

“Indeed,” came the rumble of thunder at her back.

As Bravo led Goldlewis out of the Pelican Inn and toward a spot he claimed would be perfect for a fight, the veteran mulled over the situation with a stern expression whilst lugging his coffin. Unlike Bravo, who made no bones about his excitement for the upcoming clash, Goldlewis dreaded the imminent exchange of blows. After the exhausting events of that morning, another scrap was the last thing he wanted, but it wasn’t just that. In Galeem’s world, there was no such thing as casual sparring. Once a battle began, it could only ever end with a beatdown. It didn’t seem possible to him that Bravo, himself apparently a martial artist, could be ignorant of this fact. Very suspicious, Goldlewis couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sort of ploy after all. Perhaps it was foolish for him to worry so, but no matter how much strength he attained, Goldlewis didn’t plan to become complacent nor overconfident. Pride comes before the fall.

The destination Bravo had in mind wasn’t far off, but the short trip did give Goldlewis a chance to look at the dark, angry sky. The sheer speed at which the weather turned from dour to dangerous surprised him. If a severe storm broke before the Virgin Victory could get airborne with everyone aboard, the team’s welcome reprieve in Everdream Valley could turn into an extended stay, and with a Guardian freshly slain Goldlewis didn’t want to wait around for the Seekers’ enemies to find them. “Can’t afford to drag this out,” he muttered beneath his breath.

After another minute, the two men reached their destination. “We’re here!” Bravo announced, casting his arms wide to showcase the scenery. They’d traveled just beyond the edge of the city and stopped at one of the many nearby pastures, this one growing nothing but grass and dandelions for flocks of sheep to munch on. As battlegrounds went it lacked ceremony, but there was plenty of space, and Goldlewis had no objections. He watched as Bravo pulled a boombox out of his inventory that he set down atop a boulder, then turned to his prospective opponent. “Ready to begin, my friend?”

Goldlewis let his coffin fall to the ground with a slam, which slid open so that the UMA could hand him his new shotgauntlets. He slipped them on, cracked his neck, and tapped his stopwatch. “Let’s make this quick.”

With a grin, Bravo started the music.



The blare of a horn rang out, signaling the beginning of both an energetic beat and the fight. Goldlewis stood his ground as Bravo charged toward him. He crouch-blocked as the chef unleashed a handful of hefty chops, culminating in a downward slam. Goldlewis stood to block high in anticipation of an overhead, but the move turned out be a low as Bravo struck the ground and a fully-loaded dining table sprung from the earth as a launcher. After popping his foe into the air, Bravo jumped up into the air and grabbed him, instantly wrapping the veteran in a giant dumpling that he then slammed to the ground in a titanic body slam.

Confused at what just happened but unshaken, Goldlewis rose with an unamused grunt. He lashed out with piston punches, finishing with a haymaker that Bravo backdashed. Instinctively Goldlewis went on defense as soon as he recovered, but his opponent read his reluctance and laid hands on him once more. Goldlewis found himself tossed up, then caught in a gigantic wok. His foe proceeded to toss him like fried rice, holding both man and pan with the strength of just one arm. “One! Two!” After a couple flips, Bravo whirled the wok around to slam Goldlewis down. “Bellissimo!” Bruised and disoriented by the Sublimating Frying Pan, Goldlewis rolled backward to his feet. He’d been right not to get too cocky, he realized; this chef wasn’t just a fighter, but a grappler!

Bravo gave him no time to rest. He sprinted the veteran’s way, his arms outstretched to either side. This time Goldlewis went to him, catching his opponent with a quick one-two punch, though he couldn’t convert off it. Was he trying to grab me again!? “Don’t push your luck!” Though not able to convert off the interrupt, he seized the momentum with a forward dash, only to through Bravo off with a slow stomp into sweep to send his opponent to the ground. With no coffin at the moment, he tried to follow up with a low hook, but Bravo recovered fast enough to get away. He performed that recognizable overhead slam again, and without questioning it Goldlewis blocked low. Sure enough, another dining table burst up beneath him, exploding into pieces against his guard. Bravo jumped toward him, and Goldlewis -expecting some kind of bombastic body splash that would hit him overhead- rose to anti-air. Instead he received a disjointed splash of hot noodle soup, pulled out of thin air and dished out on Bravo’s way down. The counterhit led to a short combo that ended in another grab, Passionate Thunderous Soup, in which the chef threw Goldlewis into a boiling soup pot, then watched with a nodding head until it exploded.

“Ugh!” Goldlewis hit the ground to find Bravo bearing down on him yet again. This time he made a statement with a reversal overdrive, grabbing his coffin skyward and thrusting it skyward. “Down the…system!”The heft blow threw Bravo back, and the veteran charged his way. He swung his coffin again and again in a whirlwind behemoth typhoon, landing a couple hits before Bravo learned to block, and even then he still managed to break his guard with every hit.

“Not bad!” Bravo complimented, his teeth gritted in a grin. “But can you break through this!?” He rose in a titanic lariat, spinning with a silver platter on each hand. The move armored through his foe’s offense and knocked Goldlewis back on counterhit, forcing him to block another Invite Dining Table.

Without delay, Bravo jumped toward him again, but this time the veteran’s anti-air was on point. His 6P carved through the hurled soup to slap the chef out of the sky. After tumbling, Bravo woke up with a reversal of his own, but Goldlewis blasted straight through his Welcome Spin with his unstoppable Wild Assault. “Go to hell!”

On his next wakeup Bravo respected his foe’s offense, blocking every hit of the Machinegun Blast. After Goldlewis delivered his right-hand shotgun punch, Bravo lashed out from the smoke with a chain of sausage links wielded like nunchaku. The surprise attack struck Goldlewis repeatedly, and after knocking him away Bravo used Invite Dining Table to pop him up into the air for another Flying Wrapped Dumpling. Like a maniac, he then went for a meaty command grab, which Goldlewis managed to jab him out of. He converted into a three-hit Mad Dozer, then ended with a Behemoth Typhoon, and when Bravo woke up with buttons Goldlewis shut him down with a meaty two-frame throw. “How’s! This! Taste!” he growled, delivering a hefty headbutt with each word.

By this point, both fighters were feeling it, especially the one who started with a noticeable handicap. Panting, Goldlewis tried to catch his breath while blocking Bravo’s next assault, but the chef managed to mix him up, and this time Bravo whipped out a super of his own. He snatched Goldlewis out of the air, slammed him down, then whacked him with a triple revolving golf swing using a swordfish and a giant roast chicken. His coffin hit the ground, too far away for Goldlewis to reach before Bravo reached him first. Goldlewis clenched his jaw. With no other option, he’d have to place his faith in the power gained from Jack-8. Fueled by determination, he got his second wind.



The veteran activated Heat, knocking Bravo back with Tyulpan Blast. Once powered up, he got in Bravo’s face to provoke a response, then caught him with a fast Jackhammer that allowed him to perform a sideways flex–his new Gamma Howl stance. The pose confused Bravo, convincing him not to challenge, and Goldlewis gave him a taste of his own medicine with Iron Gunman. He seized his foe, threw him up into the air, then hammered him with upward shotgun punches. On the final hit, he canceled into his Heat Smash, decking Bravo with a solid swing before his new Mothman railcannon descended for a grand explosion.

This time, Bravo did not rise, and as he lay on the grass in a daze the concerned sheep crowded around him. Relieved that the fight had concluded, Goldlewis doubled over, gasping for air. It was a moment before he could stop his watch. “Just seventy-three seconds,” he wheezed, shaking his head in Bravo’s direction. “Well. Hope you got what you wanted there, hoss.” he straightened up with a deep breath. “Guess I oughta give ya one o’ them li’l hearts. Maybe we can sort things out over drinks.”

Before he could take action, however, a sigil manifested by his ear. Someone was calling him.

“Hello, everyone. I have urgent news.” By now Goldlewis was used to Sandalphon’s disembodied voice in his ear, but what she said turned him dead serious in an instant. “Return to the port ASAP. I just received word from Geralt that a consul has arrived in Port Meridian and plans to attack the Virgin Victory. According to the crew, this is the same consul that hounded them all the way from the Land of Adventure. Given our current situation, Commander Nelson has ordered immediate evacuation. You have two minutes.”

The archangel’s voice disappeared as suddenly as it came, and Goldlewis sighed. “Guess we’ll need a rain check on those drinks.” After shouldering his coffin, he took off at a run back the way he came, using every last ounce of energy at his disposal to reach the Virgin Victory on time.

---

With a loud, morbidly definitive clonk, the extra-large glass hit the countertop, empty except for half-melted ice. Other than that sound and the crash of thunder outside, Dreamjolt Hostelry had been quiet for a few minutes. The music had stopped playing, and both man and monster took their leave, fleeing the coming storm. Only one person aside from the Consul remained, staring evenly at her last remaining customer from the other side of the bar. Siobhan pursed her lips as the Consul’s stool creaked, his weight shifting off it. “Care for a refill?” she asked almost jokingly, knowing it was a long shot.

The luminous gaze of Consul Z rested on her calm face for a moment. Though mostly just concerned with her looks, he couldn’t deny that it took guts to make an offer like that, given everything she’d overheard. “...Perhaps some other time,” he told her, his voice firm but not hostile as he placed some gold coins on the bar. Then he left, his massive frame swaggering toward the doorway to disappear into the storm.

After he left, Siobhan’s worried expression remained for a good while. “Good luck out there, Geralt,” she whispered fretfully. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”



When Sectonia heeded Nadia’s suggestion and headed off in the direction of the Le Félin jewelry shop, she waited a few moments with tails swishing, then began to surreptitiously follow the big bug through the Metro. As always, Sectonia carried herself with pomp, authority, and determination, her sheer size and gaudy appearance turning heads wherever she went. In comparison Nadia, with her dark coat and feline features, barely stood out and could be mistaken at a glance for the tallest kind of common metro cat. This distinction was not just important, but pivotal to the feral’s newest scheme: returning to her roots with a bonanza of burglary.

Naturally, she’d already picked her target. Nadia hadn’t forgotten Rush Hour, after all. That jar-headed Consul might have called the shots, but it was the Empress who called in the shots and pulled the strings around here. That grandiose title was the word on the lips of every other metro cat down here, whispered fearfully even by those who seemed to be in her employ. It smacked of the Medici Mafia in a way Nadia didn’t like one bit. Even if the whole Rush Hour debacle didn’t make this purr-sonal, the matriarch of the local nyakuza probably deserved to be taken down a peg. This wasn’t just for her sake, either; if the Seekers planned to make use of the Metro more often to maneuver around the continent, a massive surplus on pons for train passes would save a lot of time. With this in mind, Nadia tailed Sectonia to the sparkling boutique with Chucho on her heels, ready for a heist that’d put her previous pilferage to shame.



After entering Le Félin with a surgical mask on, Nadia acted casual, feigning an interest in the bejeweled accessories while she scoped the place out. Its publically accessible interior, regal in appearance, was small, spotless and well-lit, with high ceilings and low display cases. It offered practically no space to hide, and clear sightlines for the four security cameras, one in each corner well out of even her extendable reach. She could find only one door, positioned right next to the register where the Empress herself stood watch, with only one assistant cat in attendance. Right now Sectonia commanded the attention of the Empress, but she still managed to keep a close eye on Nadia. The would-be burglar supposed that she ought to count her lucky stars that the imperial feline didn’t recognize her from Rush Hour, but then again, Nadia had definitely changed since then. Inside, though, she was still the same cunning schemer, and after a few moments the feral hatched a devious plan.

First, she selected an article she knew she could afford, a necklace with golden fangs. “Ooh, Jesse would LOVE this,” she announced, before falling crestfallen at the sight of the price tag. “Oh man. I’m gonna have to make a withdrawal.” She put her hands on the glass case and leaned down as if talking to the necklace itself. “Okay gorgeous, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back!” Then she turned tail and jogged off, leaving the smudged glass for the assistant cat to clean up.

Once out of sight, though, she did not head for the nearest ATM. Instead she roamed around Le Félin, searching for something very important. As things currently stood, the boutique had no weak points, even with Sectonia running interference. With a security setup like that, not even a mouse could slip through to wherever Le Félin kept its goodies, and there were probably cameras there, too. In the whole place, Nadia could only imagine one spot not under surveillance twenty-four seven: the security office itself.

Cameras themselves weren’t the real problem, after all. That would be the staff on guard duty in the security office, monitoring the footage for anything fishy and ready to sound the alarm at the drop of a hat. If she could compromise that office, the store’s greatest security asset would become its downfall–and security guards needed to breathe like everyone else.

“Aha!” After a few minutes searching, Nadia found it: a vent. A cat burglar’s best friend. This vent happened to be much too small for even a metro cat to fit through, let alone a grown woman, but Nadia Fortune was no ordinary thief. Using a neighboring building, she jumped and climbed until she reached the third-story vent. Then, ignoring the deadly fan, she hardened her claws and ripped open a hole in the box’s metal side. Once it was big enough, she let her head fall off and shoved it inside. Using blood for propulsion when rolling didn’t do the trick, the head took off down the ventilation duct, and her body fell to the ground outside.

Focusing on just her head, Nadia navigated the claustrophobic metal labyrinth, peering each through the ventilation grate she found. She passed up the one for the boutique’s showroom, but the second opening really caught her eye. Down below lay a nondescript room, gray and rectangular, piled high with cash. It was a dragon’s hoard of zenny, pons, and bundles of dollar bills. Forget a jewelry store’s stockpile–this had to be a nyakuza vault. No wonder the Empress herself was here! Her eyes sparkled with greed, but with a sigh she tore herself away. Right now, her destination was the third grate: the one overlooking a small, dark office bathed in the blue light of a half-dozen monitors.

She pressed up against the grate and looked through. A short, stubby-limbed metro cat with a head as big as his body sat in an office chair in front of a desk piled high with screens, observing the storefront and the vault from every angle. He looked very bored, but wide awake, and for the next part of her plan Nadia needed to deal with him. Her options were limited in Forma de Cabeza, but she’d been saving dramatic tension for a rainy day, and now was the time to cash out.

The next moment, a Purrge of Vengeance went off in the duct, blowing the lid off in an explosion of water. The noise scared the living daylights out of the metro cat, and the next moment the grate beaned him in the head, knocking him to the floor. As he lay in a daze, soaked and half-conscious, Nadia’s head rocketed down to the desk. “Sorry, little dude,” she winced. “If your boss was looking out for ya, this woulda never happened, you know. Just goes to show, you should never let down your guard.” With step one finished, step two was a go.

Nadia watched the security footage in a state of total concentration as her body sauntered back into the shop with her hands tucked into her pockets. On her shoulders sat a copied head of condensed hydro energy, which got looks from the Empress and her assistant. Was it weird? Definitely. But what could they do? From her tail dangled a cheap plastic bag full of zenny, freshly converted from the Under’s geo. She laid it on the display case, then tapped the glass with her tail, indicating the necklace she saw earlier.

Full of suspicion, the Empress walked over and rifled through the bag’s contents herself. Despite the bizarre form it came in, the money was all there, and with great displeasure she reached into the case to present her customer with her purchase. “...Pleasure doing business with you,” she practically snarled as Nadia’s body left. “But let’s not make it a habit.”

She nodded at her assistant, and he gingerly picked up the bag of money. He carried it with him to the door, pushed through it, and headed over to the nearest pile of zenny to dump the cash out. Unbeknownst to him, Nadia’s actual hands let go of the underside of the bag. They fell to the ground and, directed by Nadia herself via the security footage, scuttled into cover–carrying her special wallet with them.

Once the cat left, it was go time. Working her hands remotely, Nadia opened the wallet and began shoveling money inside. Thousands of zenny and hundreds of pons disappeared into the magical space inside, which could store unlimited cash. It was a laborious process, and she couldn’t be too greedy when an employee could catch her red-handed at any time. As the assistant concluded another purchase a few minutes later, Nadia quickly wrapped up, maneuvering her hands toward the door. When the cat entered to make another deposit, unable to tell what had been taken, the feral’s extremities slipped through and into the store, skirting along the underside of the display cases to find an accessible spot where they could wait, out of sight.

Nadia let out a sigh of relief. “Payout purr-loined.” Step two, done. Now for step three: extraction. That involved using her copycat trick, but in reverse. Carefully she expended just enough blood from her neck to make just enough of a body that she could get her head back inside the vent, at which point she retraced her ‘steps’ back out of the building. Dropping to the ground hurt a bit, but once down her head could be collected and put back where it belonged. Fully formed again at last, she hurried back into Le Félin, drawing an irate look from the Empress. “Sorry, sorry!” she apologized, bending down by one of the display cabinets. “Dropped my wallet!” In one motion she inserted her hands into her empty sleeves, then used them to hold up her wallet. “That’s why I had to use the bag, haha…” Trying to look as sorry as she could, Nadia fled, her contrition turning to absolute glee the second she set foot outside. “Nyahahahaha!” she giggled, heading toward the Yellow Line station. “You ran a tight shop, but I’m not empressed! Cash me if you can!”

With 492 pons and a whopping 13447 zenny to her name, Nadia could easily afford a Yellow Line pass, as well as one for anyone who failed to get the prerequisite pons, like Osvald. The mean-spirited grouch would have to eat his words when Nadia paid his way, all out of the kindness of her heart (and a profound sense of smugness). Once the Seekers reunited, passes in hand, everyone could climb aboard the next train for the last leg of their locomotive journey. Next stop: Gerudo Town.

---

With the afternoon now in full swing, the desert sun beat down upon the Sandswept Sky with its full power as the Seekers stepped out from the darkness of the underground train station into the blinding light. The sand sizzled and the air itself swam from the ambient temperature, more than strong enough to conjure mirages for those driven by dehydration to heatstroke. The town that lay before the newcomers, however, was very real. Encircled by tall sandstone bastions and guarded by towering amazons with fiery red hair, prominent noses, and fine blades of shining steel, this walled city was well-defended. Though they’d only been here at night, Primrose and Sectonia knew just how remarkable the civilization beyond those fortifications could be, but they also knew Gerudo Town’s defining rule: that no male could venture inside.

Naturally, with Bowser, Kamek, Junior, Therion, Osvald, and Ganondorf around, that unshakeable edict posed something of a problem for the team’s overall unity. Not wanting to leave them out, Nadia didn’t mind skipping Gerudo Town entirely, and pushing onward toward a fun-filled fiesta in Carnival Town. Still, she was every bit as curious as the others to find out if Ganondorf, self-proclaimed Gerudo King, could tip the scales.

The white robe scarf that Primrose wore let her avoid being plunged into the lake a second time. She glided through the air once out of the pipe and alighted on the lake shore, wet from the constant rain regardless.

Right away she could see that red light still shone in the people that lived in the city. The Radiance’s death hadn’t set them free, confined to its own prison as it’d been. That was unfortunate. But their job here was done and all that was left now was to move on. She turned her gaze away from the citizens and to where her fellow Seekers had begun to congregate. She found her fellow Orsterran looking practically miserable, stuck clutching a large umbrella between the stoic and space-taking Osvald and the cheery pun-slinging Ms. Fortune. Since Therion wasn’t about to let his lifeline (the umbrella) go, he endured it as the group got underway.

Primrose was still disquieted by the meeting with Asgore. The whole walk from the lake to their current ride she was thinking about everything the old king had said. There were certain things that she had to recontextualize in her brain now as well. If the spirits that remained after someone died were the blueprints of their life, did using them as she saw fit mean that person was denied the ability to return? Or were everyone’s true selves out there, somewhere, and their bodies and spirits were merely copies? And did it really matter, one way or another? Before this she had been under the assumption that the dead stayed that way, so was using their spirit to prevent their resurrection really any different? She had killed before, and knew she would do so again if it was to achieve her goals.

Primrose usually didn’t think so deeply about such things. Philosophical thought was the luxury of those that didn’t have to think about keeping themselves alive and fed, or avenging a loved one. She needed a distraction to put these thoughts into the back of her mind for good. That spa trip would really do well for that, so long as the Gerudo king claiming his throne didn’t put a damper on things. In the meantime, Ms. Fortune’s mention of wanting a new outfit caught the dancer’s ear, and she looked up at the other woman.

"There’s a woman in Gerudo Town who claims to be able to make outfits perfectly tailored to her customers," she told Ms. Fortune. "I’d been meaning to have one made myself, though things got busy."

She had definitely missed her appointment with that shop, though it had been a flimsy promise to return in the first place. Primrose recalled how suspicious she’d been then, of everyone, and though she was still wary of strangers she’d learned so much over the last few days that it seemed silly now. She’d visited with Panther, and thought about her as well. She hoped the girl was doing alright.

Next to her, Therion had his ridiculously sized umbrella closed up and slung across his back like it was a sword. He sat with one of Sectonia’s fire antillions in his lap with his arms wrapped around it, having unabashedly claimed it for himself to dry off. He’d also shed off his outer layer. He had no real interest in a new outfit, and definitely didn’t want to visit a bathhouse after being dunked into the lake in the Home of Tears. As soon as they got back to the desert he was probably going to dive into a sand bank and take a dirt bath like a chinchilla.

"I just need some sun," he mumbled, his forehead pressed to the antillion in his lap. It was his only contribution to the discussion while on the train.

Soon enough their cat-pulled car stopped at the Nyakuza Metro. Just like in the Home of Tears, the manhunt they’d endured here seemed to have ended. Hopefully things would stay peaceful, and they could go about their business - getting themselves on the Yellow Line. Obtaining pons or passes would be their first step, visiting Gerudo Town the next. Neither Primrose nor Therion objected to the suggestion of visiting Carnival Town, and neither did anyone else, so it seemed that would be the stop after next.

Everyone split up to handle things as they saw fit, whether it was sending minions to do the work for them, gathering the currency themselves, or even standing around sulking about it. As everyone came back together again, they’d find that Therion was the first to arrive at the entrance to the Yellow Line. It came as no surprise that he had simply headed right for the platform and stolen a pass from a poor unsuspecting traveler. He produced it from under his pocket only to show off that he was all set. With no intent to return to The Under, he’d also gone ahead and converted his geo into zenny, a more accepted currency elsewhere - adding 4,705 zenny to go with his handful of random other currencies, including a few pons. As it turned out though, he’d hardly be needing the pons if Ms. Fortune remained generous the next time they passed through the Metro. Finally feeling a little better now, Therion let out an impressed whistle when his fellow thief showed off her haul. So she wasn’t just all talk after all!

Primrose appeared a little later, this time opting to gather her pons rather than coerce an employee into letting her pass. The hunt for pons helped to distract her mind, so she’d bought her pass the old fashioned way… though she’d certainly opt for her friend buying any additional ones for her in the future. With everything sorted in the Metro, the crew hurried onto the next train bound for Gerudo Town.

Once they arrived, Therion shuffled out of the station and did just as he thought he would: fell backward onto the sand and let the sunlight wash over him. With the warm sand at his back and the warmer rays on his front, he was on his way to leaving the hellish experience with the water underground behind him.

"Finally," he said, letting his eyes fall closed. He knew full well that no men were allowed inside the town, but he was okay with that. He also knew that eventually the heat would get to be too much, so after a minute or two he hopped back up and dusted some of the sand off of himself.

"There’s an oasis with an inn not too far," he mentioned to the group at large. "I’ll be hanging out there while you all do what you need to do."

After all, he had no idea if Ganondorf’s plan was going to work. Or if the man even had a real plan. Maybe he’d be able to get the guys into town, but Therion would rather wait for the news under the shade of a palm tree than stand around outside the city gates. He split off from the others, leading the way toward the oasis for any like minded men.

Midna and her minions chomped away at their burgers while watching the people go by, all ravenously hungry after a morning of high energy activity. It wasn’t exactly royal fare, but then she wasn’t exactly doing typical royal activities either, and so she needed the energy dense food to facilitate all the running around she’d been doing. It certainly beat the granola bars she’d been fueling a lot of said activities with by a long shot, that was for sure, causing her to idly wonder if it would be ethical to free and recruit a random chef specifically so they could have good food at a moment's notice.

Probably not, she concluded.

At any rate, after eating her fill the princess set about looking for something to pass the time and wind down now that all the essential tasks she’d set herself were dealt with.

Sat astride her wolfos’s new saddle, having been recommended to break it in before trying to actually fight it, she rode through the streets seeking entertainment. Unfortunately, though the town seemed to have a fair amount of things for sale, be it food, drink, or items galore, there was a distinct lack of things like, say, spas, or theaters, or other classy time wasters, at least where the princess ended up roaming. So she ended up mostly window shopping with the time she had before everything went back to hell.

Hell arrived while checking out a set of pens containing colorful creatures that where apparently made of paper mache and confetti (the latter of which Midna had to deduce where the hundreds of little bits of colored paper that made up their fur, as had no idea what either of those two things actually where) and had a big taste for candy. Despite several looking like farm animals, they were apparently being sold as collectors items rather than as creatures to be exploited for food and labor. Very expensive collectors items as it turned out. The call she received in the middle of this might have been bad news then, but it did at least mean that Midna had a good excuse to bail rather than having to talk her way out of explaining she had nowhere near the amount of money needed to buy one, regardless of how pretty they were.

”Sorry, just got a… what was the term… a call! A psychic call. About an urgent meeting with a consul, so I have to rush, bye!” she told the shopkeeper, before dropping her wolfos into a portal, stepping into the shadows, and finally vanishing from sight before the seller could get a word in edgewise.

Moments later, she reappeared on the top deck of the Virgin Victory with plenty of those 2 minutes to spare. Once there she found Sandalphon had already claimed the highest vantage point, and so joined her on look out, pulling out her Therian Viral Rifle to do so. She wasn’t exactly going to hit anything with the marksman carbine, she was well aware of this, but it did have a long range sight on top that she proceeded to use like a spyglass to scope out the situation.

First thing’s first, she looked up to the clouds. Having remembered the way the Virgin Victory had apparently been chased by a storm, she wanted to see if there was anything up there, driving it. Some storm riding ship or great electrical dragon, perhaps. Sadly, even if there was anything up there, the clouds, naturally, obscured if from sight, and so all she saw was lighting arching between those same clouds, causing her to flinch away from more than just the light.

”Right, that” she murmured to herself, a sense of dread creeping up her spine now that she’d gotten a physical reminder of her inherited fear of that element. In response, and almost without asking, her lightning proof Flygon slipped out of a portal and joined her side, hunkering by it both defensively and reassuringly.

Its bulwark against electrical damage was enough for her to raise the scope back up to her exposed eye, sending it roaming across the town again til a tap on her shoulder and a point from Sandalphon set her gaze on the door of the bar Geralt had left behind, right in time for said door to swing open and reveal the armored form of the consul.

On hand was occupied by a large, round, golden shield that made Midna, and only Midna, uneasy merely at the sight of it. The other was unoccupied, allowing it to be casually raised and then snapped. The storm above flashed and rumbled as something above responded to its master’s call, but Midna did not see it, for instead she had dropped her rifle in shock, the weapon clattering to the ground as memories of a death that was not hers arched across her mind. Of sword, shield and lighting all flashing as they took Urbosa’s life.

She stumbled, a hand finding the back of her crouching Flygon, upon which she steadied herself, pressing another hand to her heart in an attempt to still its frightfully fast fluttering.

At least, she thought as she clenched her eyes, blocking sight of storm and master and focused her breathing to calm herself, at least he didn’t have a sword as well.

If he didn’t have other business to attend to, then Ganondorf could have stood out in that dry air sunlight all day. Just the mere thought of not having to go back underground was enough to keep him in a good mood. But that coupled with the air of familiarity he felt upon finding himself in what was more or less his ancestral homeland made him practically smile underneath the dark shade of his faceless helmet. Deep down he knew this wasn’t technically the actual Gerudo Desert, but rather an iteration of it that was placed here by Galeem. But still, it couldn’t help but make the Gerudo Warlord feel almost… at home being in these desert sands where - once upon a time in another world - he was born and raised.

Gerudo Town itself was a curiosity to him, though. When last he dwelled in the lands of the Gerudo, there was no civilized town built there. The tribe instead lived in a fortress built into the walls of the desert canyon, and the only other notable structures were the Desert Colossus and the Spirit Temple where Kotake and Koume resided. It wasn’t lost on him that things may well have changed since his time in the tribe.

”Keep the Orb handy.” Ganondorf suggested to Nadia, presuming she was still the one carrying it. ”Just in case I have to showeth them my real face.” His intention there was pretty obvious. He would tell them who he was, even show them the Triforce branded on his hand to serve as proof. But if that alone wasn’t convincing enough, then he was also willing to use the Orb to undo his fusions and spiritbindings in order to let them see his true face as undeniable proof of his identity.

When given instructions, Nadia gave a noncommittal grunt. She did still possess the Orb of Undoing, stashed in one of her pouches, but after the exchange with Asgore her eagerness to get to know Ganondorf better had waned. Surly, gruff, and inhospitable she could work with, but now she didn’t know what to believe about the Seekers’ most villainous member.

Approaching the gate, Ganondorf spotted the pair of Gerudo Guardswomen. Neither of them looked at all familiar to him, but they were unmistakably Gerudo nonetheless. The warlord stepped forward and they naturally moved to halt his advance to the gate. So he reached up and pulled the helmet off of his head. In spite of Igos Du Ikana making his face a bit more gaunt, Ganondorf actually did still retain most of his natural Gerudo features. ”Look upon my face, Sisters.” Ganondorf told the guards, ”Thou can surely see that I am of the tribe, just as thee. A Gerudo brother who now returns home where he belongs and to rule as spoken by our laws and traditions. Your King hath returned.”

The reveal took the two warriors by surprise, and they exchanged uncertain glances. While neither would recognize him as anyone in particular, they could not deny the strong Gerudo heritage that lent his face such a distinctively formidable visage. Of course, the fact that their visitor spoke and conducted himself with such authority helped his case. Charisma came in many forms, and one who dominated his surroundings by the mere virtue of his presence was hard to ignore. However, these women were not so easily quashed, and wary of outsiders’ subterfuge. The bandit hordes of the Aregal Salt Plain were never-ending, each vicious trickster more devious than the last. After a moment, the more senior of the two guards nodded at the younger one, then fixed Ganondorf with a stern gaze. “It could be that you speak the truth. Forgive our trepidation, but we must be cautious. We have heard of ways that allow one to steal others’ features for their own, and in this desert we have many enemies.” Her eyes briefly roved around the ragtag group of Seekers at Ganondorf’s back, none of which seemed to be Gerudo in the slightest. “If you speak truly, will you show us the Triforce of Power, birthright of the Gerudo king of legend?”

‘King of Legend’? Such choice of words indicated to Ganondorf that this town and the Gerudo inhabiting it were probably quite far removed from the era of the tribe he was from. Still, if the Triforce was what they needed to see, then that was something he could easily supply. Slowly he held up his right hand and closed it into a fist. As he did so, the fabled golden triangle glowed upon it in the usual telltale way. ”Behold, the Triforce. The golden power bestowed upon Hyrule by the goddesses themselves in ancient times. No spy or trickster could hope to fake something like this.” Ganondorf said, allowing them a moment to look at it before lowering his hand once again.

The sight of something of such mythical importance left the warriors shocked. After a moment, the younger of the two knelt down, bowing her head in respect. “Your highness!”

For another second the senior guardswoman considered the situation, wondering what this meant for the current state of affairs in Gerudo Town. She did not want to dishonor the current governess, but in the end she knelt as well. Better safe than sorry. “Your highness.”

Sectonia watched all of this unfold and was both amused and a bit concerned; mostly amused though. Ganondorf had never shown this power before so her mild concern of him being able to control others was abated almost as fast as it appeared much like the infection they had just fought. So that just left her being amused at these warrior women bowing to this ’king of evil’. Well, it seemed that his title wasn’t for show at the very least. Time would tell.

Ganondorf noted their mention of having enemies in this desert. In his time, the desert was ruled solely by the Gerudo Tribe. But in this twisted amalgamated world of Galeem’s creation, the Goddesses only knew who or what else inhabited this land. Information like this could potentially prove useful in the event that the Gerudo might need to be persuaded further to welcome Ganondorf into their fold. ”These people who accompany me are allies. It is because of them that I escaped my would-be captors and was able to return to thee.”

As he explained, the two hesitated, then awkwardly rose one after the other. “I see,” the designated speaker murmured. She cleared her throat, assuming an officious posture with the butt of her spear planted. “I assume you would like to meet with Lady Riju, chief of Gerudo Town. I can escort you myself. Though you are naturally an exception, voe are not permitted in Gerudo Town, so I would ask that your male allies kindly wait outside.”

Watching and listening in silence, Nadia pursed her lips. Just when it seemed like the team was getting somewhere, the policy Primrose alluded to came into play. Even though it didn’t affect her, she couldn’t help but feel bad for those it did. “Why’s that even a thing?” she muttered under her breath, bemused. It didn’t make sense. Primrose herself had accompanied the group while Therion had gone on to the nearby oasis, since the dancer intended to enter the city. She didn't reply to Ms. Fortune's comment, assuming it was a rhetorical question, but she smiled slightly. Though she didn't say it aloud, personally she thought it was a fine rule. It was nice to just be around other women sometimes, with no men to worry over or about.

”Such is Gerudo law.” Ganondorf said in response, ”In more ancient times, outsiders of any kind were not permitted. Obviously, times have changed since those days.” He remarked as he stepped forward further, ”Lady Riju, you say? Her name is not familiar to me. Between that and these ‘enemies’ thou speaketh of, there is much I need to catch up on.”

It did make him wonder how this Lady Riju would react to him. Convincing a pair of gate guards of his authority was one thing, but a Chief? That may prove to be another matter entirely. And if things became sour then having the Seekers split up could prove disastrous. But Ganondorf couldn’t just walk away. Not now. ”Thou should do as they say for now.” Ganondorf finally told the other male Seekers, ”My authority here must be formally recognised first before I can order an exception to be made for thee. Until then, it is what it is.”

Nadia scratched her head, then sighed with a resigned shrug. “If that’s how it is. Guess I’ll come with you.” Although she didn’t like leaving some of her friends behind, she couldn’t stand the thought of staying behind and missing out when she could get a front-row seat on the action. Plus, if the situation turned sour, she could be the first to let the guys know. “Don’t worry, fellas,” she told them. “We won’t ‘desert’ you!”

"I will come along as well," Primrose said. She undid her ponytail, shook her hair out, and quickly put it back up again to make herself a little more presentable, idly wondering if she should have taken the time to change into the Gerudo outfit she'd picked up last time and if it would even still fit her. She next spoke, it was with a teasing, slightly facetious tone. "It wouldn't do to have the king go without an entourage, hm~?"

She still considered Ganondorf an ally at the moment, despite what Asgore had told them, but she was also still hesitant to let the man take over the all female settlement. It didn't seem right, but she admitted to herself that the Gerudo were a culture unfamiliar to her, and so if their law stated that Ganondorf was their king there was little she was going to do about it. Like Ms. Fortune she was curious, but she also felt the need to be there for defense should things end up less than peaceful - though whether in defense of Ganondorf or from him she wasn't exactly sure yet.

”I wouldn’t want to miss this.” Sectonia said, clearly enjoying the awkwardness of the situation. Although unlike a few others, Sectonia didn’t see how Ganondorf acted to Asgore, so a bit of this was how he’d ‘take over’ his old kingdom. Could be some interesting insights.

The guard nodded at Ganondorf. “My name is Dorrah. If you’re ready, let’s go.”

With the other guard, Merina, remaining behind to ward off the others, Dorrah led Ganondorf and his retinue into Gerudo Town. Beyond the tall, bare walls of sandstone lay a thriving city of swaying palms, intricate tiled mosaics, and aqueducts that sparkled with flowing water. Colorful tapestries adorned the market stalls, and in their stables the sizeable, thickly-furred sand seals either lazed in the sun or barked uproariously. While this place did seem to harbor non-Gerudo citizens, the vai-only tradition was strictly and unilaterally enforced, which made the sudden and inexplicable presence of a voe all the more startling. Dozens of pairs of eyes watched Ganondorf every step of the way, even more shocked than the guards had been. Murmurs and whispers flew freely as a crowd began to assemble to either side of Gerudo Town’s main thoroughfare, and as Ganondorf drew closer to the palace, the confused and fascinated throng closed in behind him.

Though she'd only been to Gerudo Town for a short time in the grand scheme of things, Primrose liked this town. The "no males" policy was just a bonus. Obviously she wasn't the only woman that felt the same, and she was keenly aware of what the crowd must be thinking and feeling. And though she shared some of those feelings, she didn't allow herself to feel bad for unwittingly informing the Gerudo king about this place and thus drawing his attention and presence to it. She kept her head held high as she walked, though few even spared her a glance in the first place when Ganondorf walked just a few steps ahead.

Sectonia glanced at the crowd as well to gauge reaction, and the stunned silence or shock was what she expected. Still, if it wasn’t for her prim and proper form and way of carrying herself, she’d be almost giggling like a schoolgirl at just how absurd this situation was. But she kept her composure and just observed, internally enjoying herself. She did stay a bit behind Primrose so she could watch the whole scene as it was. Although the fact that almost none of the people here looked at her, instead looking at Ganondorf, irked her a bit… hm..

In sharp contrast to how Ganondorf, Primrose, and Sectonia carried themselves, calm and self-assured if not outright at home in the spotlight, Nadia slunk along behind them in a state of uneasy, uncharacteristic quiet. She offered no cordial greetings, and cracked no off-handed jokes. The presence of so many staring eyes seemed to make her uncomfortable, even if she knew that Ganondorf commanded most of the locals’ attention. It wasn’t long before the feral made herself scarce, making no excuse as she slipped away into the crowd -shortly followed by a quick climb to the aqueduct rooftops- to more freely follow along Ganondorf’s path through the town without the heavy gaze of the public eye.

Ganondorf for the most part just kept silent. While most might feel awkward or uncomfortable being surrounded by women, for Ganondorf this was just old hat. He’d lived his entire life being the only male in the tribe and so keeping his composure here was very easy. The gathering stares and murmurs was something he simply ignored. It wasn’t lost on him that he was about to shatter the town’s customs, but as far as he was concerned that was just the law of the tribe. The last thing he wanted was a war against his own people. But what would he do if the current Chief rejected his claims? Well in that scenario he would simply play politics and win her over through some form of bargain. And the information he learned about the tribe having enemies could be an avenue he could take for that end.

For now though, the main avenue he took through Gerudo Town led him through the bazaar and toward a set of stairs leading up to the palace, with its distinctive sandstone goblets. Water cascaded ceaselessly from the water sources held within, feeding the canals that flowed throughout and sustained the whole settlement. It even fell in tiered waterfalls to either side of the palace stairs, and the use of such a precious desert resource as decoration spoke to the resilience of the Gerudo. After ascending, the newcomers followed their guide Dorrah into the royal complex, first passing through a courtyard filled with tropical ferns and flowers. To the right, city guards had amassed in front of the barracks, too impressed by the strange man’s audacity to make a move. The crowd tailed Ganondorf even into the palace, and the women-at-arms joined them. It seemed like nobody wanted to miss his audience with the Gerudo chief.

Nadia’s face likely lit up at the sight of the sour-puss scholar's expression, a mixture between indignant irritation and gruff surprise.

Osvald grumbling and annoyed, begrudgingly accepted the Yellow Pass from Nadia, whom stuck her tongue out impishly when the older man snatched it from her hand with a derisive snort and crossed his arms sighing gruffly without saying a word. No need for thanks, the grumpy scholar's demeanor was enough to satisfy the feral.

Without further due, they boarded the subway car and the bright colorful lights and many sounds of the Nyakuza Metro faded as did Osvald's irritation replaced by stoic curiosity as he stared out the glass to the dimly lit tunnels until finally for what seemed like an eternity the bright light of the sun lit up everything.

Osvald's eyes strained, holding an arm up to shield his gaze from the searing brilliance of the sun that beat down above, feeling it's heat upon his skin, the light in the sky didn't feel warm or temperate least of all in the sweltering desert of the Sandswept Sky.

"There’s an oasis with an inn not too far," he mentioned to the group at large. "I’ll be hanging out there while you all do what you need to do."

It didn't take long for the scholar to figure out that the deserts relentless heat was nothing to trifle with brushing off sand from his trousers Osvald skipped the preamble, he needed to rest.

Therion didn't need to be too perceptive to notice the disgruntled older man had decided to follow him, but it seemed that Osvald hadn't the slightest intention to engage in conversation other than a nod when their eyes met.

This Gerudo Town apparently allowed no men within their walls, an odd tradition though it was of no importance to the scholar he was too busy concerned with his own well-being a he trudged along in silence tailing the thief like a bad habit.

“Hello, everyone. I have urgent news.” By now Goldlewis was used to Sandalphon’s disembodied voice in his ear, but what she said turned him dead serious in an instant. “Return to the port ASAP. I just received word from Geralt that a consul has arrived in Port Meridian and plans to attack the Virgin Victory. According to the crew, this is the same consul that hounded them all the way from the Land of Adventure. Given our current situation, Commander Nelson has ordered immediate evacuation. You have two minutes.”

”C’mon, Scamp! We gotta hurry!” Roxas suddenly said after a momentary pause to take in that information. He was off in a sprint with the Yamper practically galloping behind him to keep up. Of course a Consul would have to show up and ruin their rest! And here Roxas was without his mask or gauntlets, meaning he’d be without those in the event he’d have to fight.

”Don’t panic.” Roxas told himself aloud as he and Scamp sprinted in the direction of the docks, ”Sandalphon said two minutes, so there’s still time to get out of here before he catches up to us.” By chance, Roxas’ route back to the Virgin Victory took him through the town square. And good thing, too, because while running past, Roxas spotted a woman that very much matched the description of the currently missing crew member.

She certainly stood out with her seemingly oversized coat wrapped around her and her black tail curled next to her. Between the cigarettes she was smoking and the candy wrappers thrown around her, it looked like she was on some kind of break herself. It was definitely the missing Asbestos alright. Well obviously Roxas couldn’t leave her hanging so he skidded to halt in front of her. ”You’re Asbestos, right?” He asked with heavy breaths.

“Yeah?” The lady answered with a dismissive tone, “Who’s asking?”

”I’m with the Seekers.” Roxas said, ”We just got word that that Consul guy is heading our way looking for trouble. Commander Nelson ordered everyone back to the ship for evacuation. So c’mon, we’ve got less than two minutes to make ourselves scarce!”

“Figures there’d be trouble during my break.” Asbestos said with an exasperated sigh, “Fine, I was getting bored anyway. Let’s go, blondie.”

It was lucky that Roxas was already heading back when the alert went out, since that gave him time to both find Asbestos and have the two of them be more or less the first of the Seekers to make it back to the Virgin Victory. When they did return, Roxas could only see Sandalphon, Zenkichi, Akane, and Midna. So he really was one of the first to make it back. ”Three Consuls in one day?” Roxas asked incredulously once he was regrouped. ”Can’t we ever catch a break?”

By this time he had also swung by the quarters he was given in the ship to switch back to his other outfit. Now he was once again wearing the monochrome cloak outfit as well as his gauntlets and the new bag Rui gave him earlier. Meanwhile his silver mask hung loosely on his hip, and Scamp was now resting inside of his Poke Ball.

Roland watched the fight between the chef and Goldlewis. He couldn't help but question if they were pro wrestlers or something with how showy and flashy this fight was. Roland hadn't gotten a good look at how the vet fights, but it was a lot of show for Roland who preferred to get things over and done with. Not the showiest thing he's seen though, no, the 9 o clock circus takes that cake for very different reasons. At least all things considered they kept things clean. Although before they could finalize the fight finish, they got a call about another Consul. Really?

Susie was busy at work when she got the call as well. She had finished two jobs and was on her third when she was called, slamming her head on the underside of the tractor she was under to automate. Rubbing her head as she got out and back on her feet, she listened to the whole report. Apologizing to the person with her half finished job, Susie left with only some meager profits coming from this little idea and a bit of a headache. Well, another Consul was something she could test her new business suit on perhaps.

And finally Blazermate had been spending her time healing the various injuries that came in, making a bit of money (Although far, far less than an actual doctor even though she did the work of 30.). Upon getting the call, Blazermate left in the same way as she arrived, suddenly and with little word. Since her and Susie were roughly in the same spot, the two ended up running into each other and making their way to the rendezvous. Another Consul so soon? Well, apparently they were making a name for themselves in a bad way, but there were only so many letters to go about.

Helping Goldlewis to his feet, Roland made his way with the fighter donning his mask as he sensed a fight about to come. What was with these guys and attracting all this trouble? It was just like the library again, but at least this time he got to eat food from different places instead of what he cooked himself. He did miss the endless booze though, that was quite the perk.

Soon, the Seekers reached the throne room. Though somewhat similar to Validar’s in Al Mamoon in terms of construction, it lacked its counterpart’s excessive size. Instead it was open to the air, offering a splendid view of the desert sands from its spacious balconies, but the interior seemed to be no less rich for it. The newcomers could see themselves in reflecting pools that sparkled in the light of magic lamps, beneath hanging curtains of rich white cloth adorned with huge gold ornaments and turquoise gemstones. At the top of a short flight of stairs sat the throne itself, a relatively humble affair of stone. To either side stood a red-haired woman of impressive stature, each with a huge crimson ponytail: the formidable Bulliara, captain of the guard, and the clever Nabooru, advisor to the chief. Between them, poised with an uncomfortable air on a throne that seemed almost too big for her, sat the young Lady Riju, crowned with a splendid tiara of gold that shone like the desert sun itself.

As the crowd followed Ganondorf, Nadia slipped into the throne room, where she kept to the shadows up and out of the action. Though far from insecure, this palace hadn’t been built with high jumpers or airdashers in mind, and with an enormous distraction in play getting in had been fairly easy. After a moment she stashed herself in one of the hanging banners, using it as a hammock in order to listen to the proceedings.

Sectonia, not wanting to miss the things to come, also entered the throne room, hovering a bit out of the way to get a better view of things. She found herself not that far from Nadia, but unlike the cat burglar, she didn’t really attempt to hide herself.

Riju watched Ganondorf approach evenly, neither intimidated nor intrigued. If anything she seemed out of breath. Maybe the news of Ganondorf’s sudden arrival had forced her to sprint here from elsewhere in the palace. How often did rulers just while away time atop their thrones, after all? To her credit, though, the teenager was making a heroic effort to appear calm, collected, and in control–despite the explicit challenge to her authority that the warlord offered. Dorrah ushered the Seekers closer, with the wall of Gerudo Town residents and guardswomen a respectful distance behind, and after the newcomers stopped a tense silence hung in the air for a few moments.

“...Greetings,” Riju said after a moment, a slight frog in her throat. After clearing it, she clasped her hands. “It’s very, very rare to see a man among Gerudo. But I’ve been told that you are no ordinary man. Please state your business,” she gestured regally, if a little stiffly, to her subjects. “For all to hear.”

There was a long pause from Ganondorf. Namely due to the one familiar face among the sea of strangers watching him. So there were others from his era in this town after all. And unfortunately for the warlord, Nabooru would surely have warned Riju against trusting anything Ganondorf said. He had no doubt that the bad blood that he and her once had still lingered in some form or another even here in this world. But nevertheless he let a smile cross his face as he held up his right fist and the Triforce of Power for all to see. ”Greetings, my Gerudo Sisters!” he called out in a voice for all to hear, ”See my face and behold the Triforce! It is I, your brother - Ganondorf! At long last, I hath returned home!”

His announcement brought forth a fresh surge of whispers. For the most part non-Gerudo citizens just kept quiet, wondering what was going on, but every member of the desert tribe had heard the old legends. That shining emblem on Ganondorf’s fist was all the evidence most of them needed to accept that the true Gerudo King stood before them in the flesh. Even Riju couldn’t deny what she saw. Yet while Bulliara looked to the young chief for guidance, Nabooru bristled, quietly seething. Out of the three, none seemed to be in any rush to kneel before him just yet.

After a moment, Riju swallowed. “That’s quite the pedigree. As you may surmise, though, no king has reigned in Gerudo Town for quite some time. I would ask what your intentions are here, Ganondorf.”

I would know that myself, Primrose thought, cutting a glance towards Ganondorf. When she had first mentioned Gerudo Town, the man had mentioned his "throne and subjects," and staking a claim in the current world. She was curious what that meant exactly. Currently though, she stood on his side of the throne room representing the King of Evil's faction. At some point she had lost sight of Ms. Fortune, leaving herself and Queen Sectonia in the public view along with him.

Sectonia was both a bit miffed and interested to see where this was going to go. After all, she was still a ‘homeless’ queen as it were as she hadn’t found her own kingdom while Ganondorf found his? Although from what she knew, Bowser was also without his kingdom. Well, all that was left to see how Ganondorf would handle this.

”The throne, naturally.” Ganondorf said quite simply. ”Our laws dictate that it is mine, do they not?” He lowered his fist and then began to rub his chin thoughtfully, ”But let us not labor the details just now.” He offered, attempting to sound as non-hostile as he could. ”I am told that thou hath many enemies in this desert. I, too, have enemies of my own as it were.” Ganondorf added, making it rather clear where he was planning to go with this discussion. And so he held out both arms in a gesture of proposed unity and solidarity.

”Let us help one another.” The Warlord proposed, ”I will help thee bring an end to the troubles with thine enemies. And you shall help me against mine.” Ganondorf explained and then added, ”A rather beneficial trade, is it not?” But of course her current wariness was not lost on him, ”The matter of the throne can be settled after we have achieved our respective goals. All I ask of thee is to allow my allies use of Gerudo Town as a base for rest and resupply - both the vai and the voe among them alike. Rest assured, their stay here will be a short one. You’ll find that my particular enemies will require that my allies and I remain away to deal with them abroad in more faraway lands, so the vai here will not have to service any of the voe for long.” He paused for a breath, but then continued.

”I would also ask a personal favor of thee.” Ganondorf finally said, ”I seek to pay a visit to the Spirit Temple. Does it still stand?” That was a topic he hadn’t brought up with anyone before this, not even the other Seekers. In fact it was entirely possible that Nabooru was the only other person in this room that would even know what the Spirit Temple was or why Ganondorf might have interest in visiting it - namely that it was traditionally the home where his two adopted mothers resided.

Finishing his proposal with a question left those Ganondorf was addressing in the awkward state of having to answer when they needed to deliberate. Luckily, the three didn’t need to put their heads together about this one. While the location didn’t ring a bell for Lady Riju or her guard captain, Nabooru stepped forward to reply, her tone curt. “There is no Spirit Temple in Gerudo Town, nor the surrounding desert. The expeditions I’ve arranged have made many discoveries, but the Spirit Temple that we remember is not among them.” Her reply left little doubt that the chief’s advisor remembered Ganondorf himself, despite his changes, and not necessarily favorably.

After that, Riju cleared her throat. “Excuse us, just a moment.” The three conversed in low tones, Nabooru taking the initiative while Bulliara offered little. They did not keep their petitioner waiting too long.

Riju clasped her hands in her lap. If anything, she seemed a little relieved. “You say that leadership over the Gerudo should be ceded to you outright, but also that you plan to campaign in other lands, effective after your company’s ‘short stay’, I presume.” She paused, thinking. “I can only assume then that the state of affairs in Gerudo Town itself would change little. Though in truth I would be only too happy to surrender the mantle of leadership, I have a responsibility to my people, just as you do. I believe mutual aid, both at home and abroad, would benefit us both.”

Nabooru did not seem pleased, her eyes slitted with distrust for Ganondorf, but she did not challenge Riju’s decision. “To that end, it would not be a problem to host your company here, vai and voe alike. We expect discretion and honorable conduct from them, one and all. I’m sure you would expect the same.”

Nabooru’s first answer was a disappointment to be sure. If there was no Spirit Temple in this land, then that greatly lessened his chances of locating his two mothers - who he was certain would be invaluable assets to him if he could only but find them. Still, this didn’t completely eliminate any hope of finding them. It just meant that if they were here, they were simply somewhere else. When the deliberations were finished and his petition ultimately granted, Ganondorf nodded and even offered the young chief a courtesy bow. ”But of course.” He said in agreement with her proviso at the end, ”Any of them who act otherwise, will answer to me directly if needed.” It probably meant he was going to have to keep a close eye on Bowser and that son of his should they enter the town, but no matter.

”May I have a word, Nabooru?” He requested, indicating that he wanted to ask her something further once the crowds had dispersed and he could privately ask her a little more about what she said regarding the Spirit Temple. ”If there is no longer a Temple, then… What of Kotake and Koume? Do they live?”

If Nabooru seemed reluctant to even hear Ganondorf out, she seemed completely disinclined to offer him any form of comfort. “I haven’t seen them around town,” she told him coldly, making it clear that her response came as a professional courtesy only. “But who’s to say where they might be out in the world?” Even if Ganondorf wasn’t plotting to overthrow the rulership here right away, or orchestrate some power-hungry scheme that left his kingdom in ruin, there was no telling what endless ambition might reach for tomorrow.

Her answer was about as cold as he thought it would be. Even before he went to war with Hyrule, he and Nabooru had never exactly seen eye to eye. Maybe she didn’t like the idea of bowing to a man or maybe it was something else entirely? Ganondorf didn’t know. Either way, he at least learned what he needed from her and that would have to be satisfactory for the time being. So after this he returned his attention to Riju and stood before her again.

”About our respective enemies,” Ganondorf began, ”Mine are a group of masked individuals known as Consuls. They orchestrate conflicts and wars to suit their own ends in service to an enemy that is greater still, a… false god, I suppose is one way to describe it.” He explained. ”My company and I seek to dismantle this group and ultimately the ‘god’ that sits above them. But tell me, what enemies have you that troubles our tribe?” Ganondorf inquired, ”I am confident that I can help rid thee of them.”

Something he said seemed to take Lady Riju by surprise, shocking her momentarily. Perhaps sensing her leader’s unease, Bulliara stepped in to help. “Our main problem is the Bandit Hordes,” she told Ganondorf matter-of-factly. “They’re a problem all across the desert, but their stronghold is the Aregal Salt Plain to the south. They’ve infested the place. You’ve gotta see it to believe it. I swear, there are more bandits than normal people in the desert by a factor of two or three to one, and while we Gerudo are no strangers to taking what we want, the Hordes make us look like saints in comparison. Our warriors make a better living as heroines than raiders.”

Well before she finished, Riju was ready to follow up on what she heard. “You mentioned Consuls?” she questioned Ganondorf. “That…complicates things, somewhat. You see, every week the three of us meet with our own Lady Consul X, who helps us in our efforts against the Hordes and others. She’s always keeping us updated on the latest incursions, making sure we’re ready to meet our foes in combat, as well as where we can take the initiative. You’re saying…this whole war is her orchestration?”

For the first time in this entire meeting, Ganondorf himself was surprised. But he couldn’t let this throw him off, so he kept his composure as much as his tall and dark figure allowed him to. ”I cannot say for certain.” He admitted. ”Has this Consul ever mentioned anything to thee about a flame clock?” He asked. ”Each of the Consuls possess one. My company has learned that these clocks are used as a source of power and life for the Consuls, and that the only way to fuel them is with the lives of others. And so to that end, we learned it is commonplace for the Consuls to orchestrate wars as a means of harvesting lives for their clocks in large numbers. I know not if this Consul X employs the same tactic, but the Consuls I have encountered up until now hath done so. So it is merely my presumption that the same is true for all of them.”

Riju ruminated on the troubling information. “Flame Clock,” she murmured. “That sounds familiar…”

“After we’re finished here, go to Clair de Soleil,” Nabooru spoke up, her tone confident. “And see for yourself. It’s the city’s temple, after a fashion–more like a monument to mankind’s greed. I think you’ll find what you’re looking for there.”

”I see.” Ganondorf answered, ”I intend to destroy the clocks as a means of stripping away the source of the Consuls’ power.” He told them but then added, ”But I’ve learned they cannot be destroyed by normal means. There must surely be some kind of weapon or tool that can do it, and so that is what I am focusing on searching for.”

Riju nodded. “Then we will help you in your search.” She paused. “If there is nothing else you wish to speak of, shall we consider this audience concluded?”

”Yes.” Ganondorf agreed with a nod, ”I shan’t keep you from your duties any longer.” With this he turned to make his exit from the palace, hopefully with his ‘entourage’ of Seekers in tow.

As the throng began to disperse, Nadia waited until the guards had all moved on, then dropped down from her hiding spot. Things had gone better than she hoped, despite the reveal of yet another Consul, and she had a lot she could tell the guys left behind. In fact, she realized, she could have used her linkpearl to transmit the conversation to them live. That would’ve been smart. Oh well. She hurried in the direction that the other three had gone, trying not to draw too much attention.

”We should inform the others that they hath been granted permission to enter the town.” Ganondorf told Primrose and Sectonia once they were all outside and he was reasonably sure no one would be eavesdropping on them, despite him being the talk of the town. ”And I’m sure they’ll be interested to know of the flame clock that may well be here within the town’s walls as well.” He added in a more lowered and hushed town. ”And one more thing. If Gerudo Town is going to be our allies for the foreseeable future, then it would be wise of us to find some way we can ‘destroy’ them, lest we run the risk of them being turned against us as the people in the Home of Tears had been.”

Primrose nodded her head in agreement. She had kept quiet the whole time, as she had no stake in Ganondorf's claim to the throne besides wanting to be there to see how things turned out and lend her aid one way or another, but now that the meeting was over she was relieved by the way Ganondorf had handled things. The brute he becomes in battle is not all there is to him, she mused to herself, all the while knowing that being well versed in politics did not make the man any less dangerous - maybe even more so. Still, it was a fruitful meeting, and she would be glad to have Gerudo Town as another safe zone for the Seekers eventually.

"We can come up with a plan of action in the morning," she suggested. "So long as the latest Consul doesn't know we are here, we can afford ourselves some rest first."
Much like Primrose, Sectonia was also taken aback a bit by Ganondorf’s little encounter there. But she didn’t show that on her face. Still, he had shown that ‘king’ title was more in the talking kind than the ‘things follow you’ kind like bowser. If this bore anything would need to be seen though. ”Hm, While I would recommend keeping bowser under a close eye, he isn’t a womanizer. From what I’ve seen, hes more the… ‘single dad’. Sort. ” Perhaps that's how he gained his kingdom, a kingdom of the lost and downtrodden looking up to a ‘father’ of sorts. A lot more noble of a prospect than his demeanor seemed to indicate.

There were many things they had to consider if they were going to take on another Consul so quickly, in addition to what Ganondorf had mentioned there were also the other Seekers back at Alcamoth and even farther that could use the information they had. Perhaps they knew things their current team didn't and could lend their aid as well. For now though, Primrose glanced around to see if she could spot their Feral friend now that they were outside. Once the men (and Rika) were informed, she had a bathhouse and tailor she wanted to take Ms. Fortune and Sectonia to.

“I guess if we’re gonna spend the night somewhere, we’d be better off in Carnival Town.” Primrose’s search came to an end when Nadia dropped down into the Seekers’ huddle from a nearby rooftop. A shiny sprinkle of water on her legs suggested she’d used the aqueducts to get around away from the crowds. Now that the feral had only her friends for company, she seemed a lot more like herself. “This place isn’t that big. If the Consul did show up, I Gerudon’t think there’d be many places to hide.” She crossed her arms and shrugged. “Still, it’s nice to be welcome, eh? I’ll call the guys in a minute and let ‘em know they’re good to come in thanks to Ganondorf’s ‘man’-date.”

After this, the Seekers could fan out to do whatever business they had in Gerudo Town. For Ganondorf’s part, he intended to pay Clair de Soleil a visit as Nabooru suggested. Of course, for all he knew, she was trying to lead him into a trap of some kind. Well it was better to settle that issue now rather than allow it to become a problem in the future. But before that, Ganondorf had the inkling to pay a little visit to the town’s Bazaar. His twin greatswords hadn’t been worked on in some time and who better to work on a pair of Gerudo-made weapons than a fellow Gerudo?

Sectonia meanwhile would make sure that, if they were supposed to be here, she’d make the others prim and proper. She wouldn’t be around slobs while she was here, and there was quite the bathhouse in this place. Although she may need to use her antlers to…. Give the common folk some privacy.

”What do you mean it’s girls only? How are we gonna get a mirror now, huh?!” Jr complained before the gates of Gerudo Town while Bowser simply eyed up the town’s walls and considered the feasibility of simply busting in through them in order to go grab what they wanted anyway.

”I mean, I could go in? Scope the place out. Find a mirror store or something” Rika however pointed out, but the others would have none of it, with Kamek replying ”All on your own? Baddness no it could be dangerous to go alone”

”But Ganondorf’s going in with the others, I wouldn’t be on my own” Rika rightly pointed out, directing a large finger in the direction of the other king and the ladies who were going with him to see what went down, who where at that moment preparing to enter the town.

”Ganondorf going in is precisely why it might be dangerous. I highly suspect things will not go so smoothly as he desires” Kamek replied, entirely incorrect in this assessment as it would turn out (at last as far as the initial meeting went), but nonetheless it was a good point at the time, though not quite as good as he simple act that ”Besides, they are going to speak to whoever’s in charge no doubt, which isn’t exactly the place to go for mirrors”

”I guess…. Still. I can handle myself” she insisted, causing Kamek to press two fingers to his forehead in exasperated thought, before pulling them away and snapping them when he came up with a way to explain it.

”You remember how we were both so worried about the young master running off on his own down in the Ancient Pools that you ran straight into an ambush while hurrying after him? We would be like that, only unable to act on the need to regroup with you without doing anything drastic”

”Wait, you where?” Jr butted in, only to echo his sister when he claimed ”I handed myself just fine!” as well.

Kamek sighed again, and then tried a third strategy, reminding them ”So can the young mistress, but it is still, it's best we stick together. We are stronger together, and we all know how nasty this world can be, hosting everything from Robin Goodfellow to that Thing from the stars and the Maw” prompting a shudder from all (including himself) at the mention of that last name.

There was a brief moment of quiet before Kamek coughed into a close fist and then continued ”hence why I recommend we officially instigate a Buddy system. No groups smaller than two, that way we always have someone watching everyone else's back”

That got a round of nods and agreements without much complaint. The majority might still have not put two and two together vis a vi the others feeling the same supernatural dread whenever any of their number who went off alone, but the logic was sound enough.

”So uh, no mirror then?” Jr concluded after a few moments, bringing them back to the original point.

”It seems like that plan will have to wait” Kamek agreed, but Bowser was having none of it, declaring ”Bah, who needs lady-vill anyway! We’ve got plenty of sand and I’ve got plenty of fire, how hard can making glass even be?”

As it turned out, very, given that while Bowser’s flame breath was hot, it was not 1700°C hot. Not that that stopped both him and Jr from flame breathing a bit of the desert outside of Gerudo town in a futile attempt to melt it into glass. Not that would have helped either, given that they did not have silver to back it, but odds are that would not have stopped them even even if they had known it would be an issue

All they really managed was drawing the attention of a Pycko, which proceed to squeak at them an angry yet still adorable manner before blasting sand at some unfortunate shubs they’d set on fire by accident, smothering those flames in the process. It did not, it seemed, approve of their reckless fire slinging, despite its cheeks pouches emitting a constant stream of the stuff.

Kamek, then, would be very relieved when they all got the message that they could enter the town, putting an end to the whole farce, including what could only be described as a yapping match between Jr and the Pycko as the prince and salamander yelled/squeaked insults at each other from opposite sand dunes.

Zenkichi, Sandalphon, and Akane made great haste back to the Virgin Victory, the former two on careful lookout while their teenage charge did her best to stay calm despite the extreme caution and urgency her father was displaying. This was nothing like his usual demeanor, where he hardly ever tried to scold her, tell her she was wrong, or what to do like other parents did, too wrapped up in feeling sorry for himself. No, he was deadly serious right now, and to watch his head and eyes dart about like they were looking for a wild animal ready to attack at any moment unnerved her deeply.

They made it back safely, without any random bolts of lightning trying to kill them, or mysterious figured shooting at them or any of the many strange and terrifying scenarios she'd been half-panicked about on the run back, and Akane sighed in half relief and half annoyance. "Well, we made it back safe. What freaked you out about that storm so much?"

Zenkichi sighed, catching his breath just a little and running his hand through his hair. "Sandalphon was right, that was not a normal storm. Given the guys who are after us right now...not taking any chances. People in this place have some really weird powers, and if somebody did that? Not sure I wanna fight him."

"Yeah, trust me, you don't." Geralt announced as greeting, looking between Akane, Zenkichi, and Sandalphon with a frown. "There's a Consul, who just told me to enjoy what little time we have left. As soon as he finishes his drink, he's coming. Halo, let the others know. I'll be checking my swords over while we wait."

"Another Consul? Seriously? Guess they're getting serious now. Though, Shirogane did say they got chased by a storm, didn't they? Is it really just a coincidence that we have to deal with a third Consul in one day? Just my luck." Still, Zenkichi didn't seem quite as dismayed as his words made it seem. While Sandalphon got the word out to the others, prompting Midna to appear almost instantly, Zenkichi summoned and tested the new sword he'd just bought, finding it to be extremely heavy, but somehow still manageable. He'd chalk it up to Persona nonsense, given that Valjean also let him cast magic.

While Zenkichi tested his new weapon, Geralt gestured Akane further inside the Virgin Victory, the young girl following her curiously. "Wait...weren't you a grumpy old man with a horn this morning?" She asked, realizing from the tone of her voice who Geralt was.

"I was. Like your father said, this world that Galeem created has many strange people in it, and when they die, we can...take some of their power for our own." Akane looked at Geralt like she was crazy, then horror settled in as memories from Midgar resurfaced.

"You mean...fusing? Isn't that super illegal?" Geralt pulled out her steel sword, a rag, and her vial of Hanged Man's Venom, pouring a small amount of the deadly toxin into the rag as she sat down.

"In Midgar, it is. Most places don't seem too keen on it, given that it incentivizes killing folk." She methodically, quickly oiled her sword, Akane watching in confusion. "Where I come from, death is a common fact of life. Folk die every day. Starvation, murder, war. There are monsters who gather in places where many have died to feast on their corpses. I hunt those monsters. Some of those monsters look just like every other person on the street. People. I'm sure you're wondering why I'm telling you this."

"Uh....kinda...." Akane trailed off, a little worried by the fact that Geralt just implied she killed people.

"Your father is a good man. Maybe misguided. Maybe foolish. But a good man. He tried to save an enemy of his, only for us to be tricked by an illusion into killing him. I wanted to warn you." Satisfied with her blade, now coated in the deadly toxin, she stood, and frowned. "We may have to kill the man chasing us. In all likelihood, we will. Stay inside. He's dangerous, more dangerous than any other man you've met in your life. More dangerous than any we hope you will ever meet. My daughter walked the same path as I do, for a while. It's a lonely one. Your father doesn't want the same for you. So stay inside with the others, and no matter what happens, until your father, I, or one of the other Seekers tells you it's safe, do not come out." The last four words delivered with a slow, dark voice that reminded her of a movie villain, made Akane nod.

"Good. Hopefully we can get away. But they won't stop chasing us until either them or us are dead. I know you and your father have your problems. He means well. Cut him a little slack, would you?" Geralt tried to smile, but between her overly-stern resting face, the sword in her hand, and the knowledge that this woman in front of her was probably a lot stronger than her dad, (as much as she hated to admit her dad was actually kind of badass), Akane could only gulp and give a tiny, scared nod. What had her dad gotten them into? Akane guessed she couldn't complain, given that he was actually trying to do something now, instead of just hide scared for her like last time, but...wasn't this overcompensating?

Sighing, Geralt left Akane behind and returned to where Zenkichi, and now a few others, were. "Akane should be okay. Tried to convince her we had this. Don't think it worked. We need to get going before he shows up. Looked mostly human, has some power over electricity. Not sure how much, but enough that he's comfortable performing parlor tricks." She didn't have much information on the Consul, so she couldn't give much, but they'd just have to make do.

After lunch (or for one of them, a second lunch), Pit and Roxas separated to continue exploring the area each on their own. Realistically, there were only so many things that could interest a teen-brained angel in the town. It was a port, but the Virgin Victory was the coolest ship in its harbor. There were plenty of shops around, but they catered to the common working person, monster trainers, and tourists. Cafes, restaurants, and food stalls were plentiful, but even with a stomach as big as Pit's there was a limit.

The only thing he hadn't really checked out yet was the farmland just outside of town. He hadn't been kidding when he said it was the biggest farm he'd ever seen - and he found himself wandering toward the outskirts of Port Meridian almost absentmindedly. Normally, before the whole Galeem recreating the universe thing, when he was deployed for air battles he only caught glimpses of farm lands while on the way to besieged cities or much, much weirder places. Seeing rows upon rows of grain and other crops organized into sections from the sky looked sort of cool. He didn't really think seeing it up close would be any more interesting (in fact it might even be less), but maybe he could get some fresh food for the road for everyone. There was kind of no telling when they'd end up a nice town next after all.

Despite the sky gradually growing darker with clouds, Pit decided to make his way out to the fields. He figured that he could beat the rain, but even if he couldn't he didn't mind getting a little wet. The only thing that might have given him pause was the weird feeling in the air. He couldn't quite place it, but there was a gradual shift happening. He glanced toward Midgar in the distance, wondering if it had something to do with that. Then he shook his head and walked a little faster.

When he got to the edge of the farm just outside of town, it was pretty much as he'd expected - lots and lots of fruits and veggies in rows extending out for a while. On one side of the path at least. The other was a fenced in field for a cattle ranch. Pit's attention was initially drawn to the cows. Cows meant fresh milk, maybe he could get a really good milkshake! But a rumble of thunder saw the ranch hands start to move their herds out from the open and towards shelter, pausing only to say some farewells to a traveling merchant that had stopped by.

While the man started down the path, Pit came up it, leaning over the ranch's fence. "Aw they're leaving? I bet that vampire-cow Pokémon has weird milk, I wanted to see!"

"The Mozzarina? Those aren't Pokémon," the merchant said as he approached, chuckling like it was silly to even think that. "They're Pals. Distinction matters!"

"Oh." Pit had heard Rui say "Pals" once or twice, but he figured it was just like calling her little critters friends or buddies. Scratching his head, Pit squinted at the animals as they were marched back into their barns. "They all just kinda seem the same to me."

The merchant tutted, holding up a wagging finger. "Not so! Every friendly monster is different. You wouldn't confuse a Nexomon for a Coromon, would you?"

Pit looked at the man, clearly baffled. Whether it was friendliness or a need to talk about his field of expertise, the pal merchant stopped to explain in more detail.

"See, they may be similar, but they all have their own quirks. Pals come in all shapes and sizes, and they have different elemental types. Some types are strong or weak against others. As they get stronger they learn more powerful moves that they can use in battle, and they're tamed by weakening them and catching them in spheres."

"That's exactly the same thing!"

"No, no... if you saw them up close you could see how different they are. Here, take this little one for example." The man dropped his pack to one shoulder and opened the flap. A little creature poked its head out, blinked, and waved at Pit. "This Ooblet doesn't look anything like a Pokémon or a Pal, right?"

Yes it does! Pit thought. He opened his mouth to say as much, but then there was a small noise by his ear promptly followed up Sandalphon's voice.

Another Consul! They just don't quit! And... two minutes?! Pit wasn't too far into the acres and acres of farm, but he was technically outside of the city. He would have to hustle. He was already turning away to get a move on when he finally spoke up again, with the merchant looking on curiously.

"I gotta go, I was just here for some food anyway!" Pit said, scooping up the closest crop - pumpkins, one under each arm. He raced down the road back to the port, calling over his shoulder, "And just so you know they totally do all look the same!"

He sprinted down the road back into town, then through it. With the storm now overhead, looking to unleash rain at any moment, the small crowds that had been milling about earlier had started dispersing. It made moving through the streets much easier, so there was that at least. He headed towards water, and when the bay opened up in front of him he spotted the Virgin Victory only a few docks down.

"Made it!" the boy said, leaping up onto the ship's hull. He sort of chucked the pumpkins he'd snagged into the ship's interior so that he could remain up top for now, materializing the Palutena Bow into his hands. Thankfully, the fruits' tough outer skin protected them from breaking open when they tumbled in.

It looked like he was one of the last of the Seekers to arrive - but now that he was there, Pit was ready to fend off would-be attackers, Consul or not.

Thunder resounded across Everdream Valley, spurring citizens, farm animals, and heroes alike to make a beeline for safety. With Roland at his side, Goldlewis hustled back toward the Virgin Victory, double-time. While the fixer took and held pole position without much difficulty, his companion managed to keep up. By now it came as no surprise that the veteran was spry for his age, and once he managed to work up some momentum he could barrel along at a decent clip. Still, the fatigue he’d accumulated by now was no joke, and having to switch back into action mode just when he’d started to rest sure took the wind out of his sails. These two minutes would probably take every last ounce of stamina that Goldlewis had left, thanks in part to the heavy burden of his coffin. He could only pray that the others all made it, and that they’d be able to give this new Consul the slip. If nothing else, Y had made it clear that this world’s custodians could offer Guardian-level challenges.

At least the pair’s route didn’t press them too hard. Ever wary of entanglements, Goldlewis had internalized the path he and Bravo traveled from Port Meridian to the nearby sheep farm, and it offered little in the way of hazards. The only thing that troubled him as he chugged along was the thought of running into the Consul himself. Still, the cloud-to-cloud lightning in the dark skies overhead seemed to be getting worse by the minute, so even as his heart pounded the veteran didn’t ease up on his pace. In no time he and Roland left the pastures of wind-whipped grass in their rear-view mirror, charging through cobblestone-laden streets as they zeroed in on the sound of breaking waves.

When the Virgin Victory finally came into view, bobbing on the storm-tossed sea at the end of the port’s longest wharf, Goldlewis spared a half-second to check his stopwatch. Thirty seconds left. He could see others jumping, climbing, or flying aboard, and the golden glow of Sandalphon’s halo brought his attention to her and Midna perched atop the ship’s cabin on lookout duty. The roar of the Virgin Victory’s engines filled the air, not unlike the scream of an airplane’s turbines just prior to takeoff. It was time to go. Though his muscles ached and his lungs burned, and scattered droplets lashed him, Goldlewis grit his teeth and pushed his weary body into overdrive.

“RaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

This space-age airship had never been made to dock at an old-fashioned port, so it lacked any sort of convenient gangway. He’d have to reach the upper deck himself, only his double-jump wouldn’t be enough to get him up there, and there wasn’t enough time to climb. In the heat of the moment, he could think of only one way to get that height. “Roland!” he barked, his voice ragged as he slid to a stop on the docks. “There ain’t time to explain. Hold still!” Before the fixer could question him, Goldlewis set down his coffin and fully charged his Dust. The next second the UMA’s arm burst from the coffin in a mighty uppercut that struck Roland in the chest and launched him high into the air, somehow inflicting much less damage than such a blow probably should. Doing this allowed Goldlewis to leap up after Roland, flying much further and higher than he would’ve been able to otherwise. A moment later, both tumbled down onto the Virgin Victory’s upper deck.

“Sorry, partner,” Goldlewis wheezed, completely spent. “That was all I could think of. Sure did the job though, huh?”

“That’s everyone. Let’s go.” Sandalphon called from her vantage point. With Goldlewis and Roland, everyone was accounted for, even the surly Savra, Asbestos, thanks to Roxas. Her telecommunication miracle seemed to be fully online, establishing an open line that allowed everyone to hear her despite the howling winds and near-constant thunder–including the Virgin Victory’s crew in the bridge. Immediately the vessel’s anti-gravity hover drive came online, and as the Virgin Victory began to lift from the water. Sandalphon rose from her sniper nest, jogged across the ship’s roof, then dropped down onto the deck with the others. A moment later, the positron main engine and dual nuclear pulse sub-engines fired, though the low altitude and realities of in-atmosphere flight strictly limited their output. Still, the resulting thrust was more than enough to slide the ship through the water, then propel it through the air once its dripping hull rose from the sea completely. Port Meridian slowly fell away as the Virgin Victory, aimed northward toward the open ocean beyond the bay, began to pick up speed.

“Full speed ahead!” Shirogane announced over Sandalphon’s group call. “Fold up yer tray tables and fasten yer seatbelts, folks, ‘cause this li’l ship o’ mine can reach a top speed of one thousand knots. That’s over a thousand miles per hour to you an’ any other Americans aboard, Mr. Dickinson!”

Goldlewis could only blink in astonishment at the news, his mouth ajar. “Huh? Speeds like that from black tech? You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

Shirogane cackled. “We-he-heeell, we still ain’t fully repaired or nothin’, so I kinda am kiddin’ ya. In truth, we can’t even break the sound barrier right now, but this baby’s still fast enough to leave that crummy Consul in the dirt.”

The second the engineer finished, the stern voice of Commander Nelson cut in after him. “Let’s not get too comfortable. We’re not out of the woods just yet.”

As if on cue the voice of Alice MacGregor reached the Seekers next, calm but urgent. “Commander. One bogey in pursuit, closing fast.”

“Already!?” Shirogane yelped in disbelief.

With the Virgin Victory still below the angry storm clouds, lightning flashed overhead, and thunder roared. After a few more moments, however, one bolt streaked across the sky visible from the ship’s upper deck, slower but a lot longer than the rest. The anomaly caught Sandalphon’s eye, and as the wary archangel watched, the bundle of lightning oriented itself directly to the left of the vessel. “There,” she alerted the others, forced to face the reality that the Consul had somehow caught up to them after all. Sandalphon could make out some sort of wheeled vehicle, essentially a chariot, drawn by two big, burly unicorns who galloped through the open air with a trail of arcing electricity in their wake. In the chariot stood the man of the hour, a Consul of prodigious bulk who wore a round, golden shield on the arm with which he gripped the reins.

The next moment, his booming voice echoed across the Virgin Victory, amplified by magical means. “BRAVE MORTALS, I BID YOU WELCOME, FOR THOUGH THIS WORLD IS OURS, THE SKY WILL ALWAYS BE MINE.” He paused as he raced overhead, a streak of lightning crossing from the left side of the ship to the right. “I AM MOEBIUS Z. LORD OF LIGHTNING. MY SPECIAL POWER IS ‘LEGACY’, GRANTING ME ALL THAT WAS MADE IN MY IMAGE.”

So saying, Z lifted up his free hand. There came a bright flash, and a brilliant lightning bolt appeared in his hand like a javelin, as if plucked from the sky, buzzing angrily as it blazed in his grasp. With a grunt he hurled it downward, and it struck the Virgin Victory with a tremendous crash, rocking the entire ship as its systems flickered. Even after the blast concluded, particles left over from the electric explosion coalesced into a handful of Zeustrike minions. The living clouds, purple in color but armored in gold, dispersed to keep the Seekers occupied while Z alternated between taking potshots and attacking the Virgin Victory itself.



“THANKS TO YOU, MANY GUARDIANS HAVE FALLEN. THAT IS NO MEAN FEAT. CONSIDER ME IMPRESSED! BUT YOUR LITTLE SIDESHOW HAS REACHED ITS END. I, MOEBIUS Z, WILL OBLITERATE EVERY ONE OF YOU, HERE AND NOW!”

At this point, Goldlewis couldn't muster up the strength for heroism. "Good Lord," he grumbled as he lifted his coffin onto his shoulder. With a hefty grunt he slammed it down, unleashing a Shield Burst that reinforced the team with minor defensive barriers. "I'm plumb tuckered out, but I can still lend a hand protectin' y'all," he shouted at the others amidst the wind and thunder. "If ya need a big shield, ya better holler loud!"

Having retreated to the rear of the group, Sandalphon took up a support position. It went without saying that the archangel had everyone's back. "No need to yell. My lightline connects us, after all. Just call me for emergency healing," she told the Seekers calmly. "Or to prepare a follow-up shot."



Now that Ganondorf’s audience with Gerudo Town’s chief was over and done with, their negotiations having seemingly resulted in the best possible scenario, a weight had been lifted off of Nadia’s shoulders. Despite the warlord’s rather audacious claims earlier, no drastic action would be taken today, and the status quo here would remain a while longer. From how Ganondorf spoke earlier, even a violent uprising hadn’t struck her as too much of a stretch, given his personality in conjunction with the allegations laid at his feet by Asgore. In the end, though, Ganondorf showed admirable restraint. Cooler heads prevailed, much to her relief, and now she -not to mention the ‘voe’ among the Seekers- had the run of this place. From here the team could probably split up and spend some time here in Gerudo Town however they pleased, and even if the petitioners’ presence earned them some extra scrutiny from the locals, Nadia’s discretion meant that nobody ought to bat an eye at her while she went about her business–not that she planned to do any more heists today. For now, after a tiresome battle and even more tiresome journey through the Under, the cat burglar just wanted to take it easy.

Since she’d volunteered and everything, Nadia figured she ought to step away from the group so she could let the others know. Before doing so, however, she made sure to check in with Primrose so the dancer wouldn’t leave her behind. “You mentioned a tailor or something on the train, right? I’ve been making do, but I could sure use a purr-fect fit. I mean, just look how this thing ended up.” She gestured toward her garb. With the desert heat beating down on her, she’d shed her black, militaristic trench coat once more, then wrapped it around her waist so she wasn’t just galavanting around in a leotard. Still, the way all that black soaked up the blazing rays only further illustrated the inefficiency of her wardrobe malfunction’s stopgap solution. Her brow already glistened with sweat. “Heck, I’d settle for an actual skirt at this point, even if the price made it income pleated. Not skinny jeans though, I could never get into them.” She giggled, then sighed. “Sorry, sorry. Guess I’m just clothes-minded. Maybe you could show me where the tailor is? Otherwise I’ll have to hit up the fabric shop for new material…”

With the threat of even more clothes puns hanging in the air, Nadia stepped away and activated her linkpearl. “Hey everyone~” she sang. “Ganondorf’s made nice with the locals. Looks like you guys are off the hook. Come on in and join us if you want. Just, uh, y’know. Don’t be weird. Steer clear of the public baths maybe. See ya round!”

After that Nadia headed back over toward Primrose. Though the guys were now allowed into Gerudo Town, she wondered if they’d even get a chance to relax here. After entering they might very well be scrutinized every step of the way, not even out of wariness necessarily, but just curiosity. That wouldn’t be much fun, but at least Nadia could make the most of her time here. Smiling at Primrose, she gave an affirmative nod. “Thready when you are.”

”Oh thank badness” Kamek sighed with relief when he got the call from Nadia about how Ganondorf’s meeting had gone, namely, somehow, steller

”Really? Well, when you’re a backstabber you have to have some kind way with words I guess” Bowser loudly observes right after, causing Kamek to cringe, hope that their distance from the wall stopped anyone overhearing and suggest he ”maybe don’t be so loud about the man’s past performances, your thunderous-ness” before adding that ”with any luck we won’t be sticking around long enough for that to be a problem”

The subsequent question the two youngsters had about why they couldn’t take a bath somehow managed to be even worse than the king’s potential ruining of Ganondorf’s reputation. Fortunately while Kamek ah-ed and um-ed about how on earth to explain Nadia’s comment Bowser simply sidestepped the issue decarling ”Who needs their baths, we’ve got a plan to enact! Koopa troop, let’s move out and get us some mirrors!” which got him a pair of affirmations from the pair, and a relieved sigh from Kamek.

They left behind the burnt sand, as well as the satisfied with it’s victory Pycko, and headed inside, Kamek radioing in that they’d be checking out the market, a place where they would soon be causing quite the stir.

The crowds of ladies who’d followed the arrival of the king to the palace, or more accurately the ones at the back of it who couldn’t see anything over the rest of them and so where in the best position and with the highest inclination to go find the other voe to get a look at them, ended up having plenty of things to gawk at as a result of the troop’s entrance. The trio of voa turtles and their mechanical gauntlet wearing vai companion certainly were interesting to look at even just from a first glance, and things only got more entertaining from there.

Through this crowd maneuvered a middle aged woman who, had she been from earth, would have been from Indian decent, and had she been from her own she would have been from the queendom of Feminie, first vassal and then successor state to magnificent Ind, but as things stood she was a sorceress of Garudo town, and she was on the hunt for magic. Both of the smaller turtles radiated it, not just from themselves but from a set of small objects she could tell the hooded one had on his person. Objects from a home she did not know she had. Objects that resonated with her style of magic more than anything else in this world.

Thus she pushed through the crowd, and as she did she heard snippets of the troops antics-

“-she walked right up to the poor girl and asked why she was starting at her, as if we all weren't-”

“-he and the ‘king’ stole spheres of the world together-”

“-made metal from his hands- -armor of mirrors- -cracked them when he moved-”

“-reflect a god’s light, must be mad-”

-And then the crowd pulled back, letting her through to see them clearly now., and she was immediately concerned by what she saw.

”Your illuminous-ness, young majesties, I’m not sure this is the wisest idea” Kamek said, hovering atop his broom at the side of Bowser as the king angled a cannon down range, specifically at Rika, who was holding a round mirror her brother had welded an iron handle to the back off, creating a mirror shield of a kind.

”You were the one who said it ‘wouldn't be wise to use an untested strategy’” Bowser replied, mimicking Kamek’s voice as he repeated the mage’s words back at him, to which Jr added ”Yeah! Besides, Papa said he’d only use a weak flash cannon, right?”

Given the amount of sun that the king’s shell was presently drinking in, this seemed like something he’d be unlikely to be able to do. At any rate, they were prevented from finding out how a common mirror would fare vs a flash cannon round by the sorceress, who decided this was the perfect moment for a sale’s pitch.

“A mundane mirror is a terrible choice for defense” she declared, punctuated with a thump of her staff to the ground causing a little fiery burst that caused her ruby red robes to billow around her dramatically “fortunately for you, among my many magics I hold mastery, one is over reflections”

With that she drew a gold framed hand mirror from seemingly nowhere, flicked it so that it flashed in the sunlight, capturing a reflection of Bowser as it did so, and then in the next moment released that reflection, causing a mirror image of the Koopa king to be standing before him.

Both blinked, and then tilted their heads from side to side in curiosity, before the true king declared ”huh, that’s a pretty good one”

Kamek meanwhile was not so impressed, replying ”Somewhat impressive, but I can already do that” dismissively as he formed a portal and summoned a shadowy copy of Bowser as he had been before any of his fusions to face off against the other copy

“I think my likeness is much more accurate, don’t you?” the sorceress retorted, and indeed it was both in hue and to the king’s current state, causing the mage to furrowed his brows and then sneer as he replied that ”mine is truer to his spirit, and his strength. Let us see if your mere reflection can defeat a creation forged by my bond with my king?”

“No! No fighting, no magic duels, or whatever a flash cannon is!” barked the leader of the guards who had been assigned to watch the Troop, her brief thankfulness towards the sorcerer ended whatever the debacle had been about to unfold already at an end.

“Ah, of course captain. My sincerest apologies” the sorceress said as she dismissed her illusion, before saying to the Troop that “and my apologies to you as well, I did not mean that as a challenge, but as a demonstration of my talents. When it comes to enchanted mirrors, if you need one of the defensive variety, I may be able to make precisely what it is you need. Certainly something far more durable than vanity mirror you have strapped to the young vai’s arm”

”Well why didn’t you say so!” Bowser replied with a waft of a hand, before telling Kamek to ”Put that me away, we’ve finally found the right lady to ask about this” prompting the mage to grumbilingly dismiss his magical creation, much to the sorceress's relife, as she knew that her glamor made minion would have stood no chance against Kamek’s much more solid construct.

She didn’t let it show, however, and instead boasted that “indeed you have!” before turning and inviting them to “come, my home is this way, and within are the defenses you will need against this luminous foe.

With their assent, she led the way to her sandstone abode, slipping past the hanging bead-covered doorway, entering her home and getting away from the prying eyes of the crowd. Within was a fairly basic setup living space wise, cramped in by multiple sets of empty shelves. At least they seemed empty till the sorceress reached forwards and drew a book from the illusion warding her most prized possessions.

She set the tome down on a worn desk and flicked through it, pausing only for a moment to warn a curious jr “there’s traps in there too, so don’t go sticking a hand in if you want to keep it,” before finding what she sought.

“Here we are: The Mirror of Long Lost Battles” she told them, as she turned the book to show them a diagram of a warrior using a full length mirror as a tower shield, one out from which a second warrior was in the midst of lunging to strike at an unseen assailant.

“Far more durable than a plain metal shield, self repairing, and, as a bonus, capable of generating warriors to distract your foes. All you wanted and more, no?” she said, which got several over eager nods from the royals, while Kamek was more skeptical ”a diagram is all well and good, but can you make one? And what will it cost?”

“For me, 10 of these” she said, as she plucked a set of silvery gems from another glamored shelf and placed them on the desk, where they shimmered with a pink and purple aurora, before adding “from you, bronze and silver for the base materials, gold for my services, and something to barter for these gems. Mere gold will not suffice for them, I need an equivalent exchange of power, magic for magic”

That got them grumbling from the other, but Kamek was mostly nonplussed as he reached into a pocket and placed a handful of his own gemstone the table, two white, around which the constant wind blew, three purple, out of which a skull started, and four green that caused the wood of the desk to sprout leaves.

“Hmmm, air and death are not my specialties, I will need to trade those onwards or convert them at a loss of power. Nature is good. Still, more” she proclaimed, hiding her delight at gaining even these, causing another grumble from Kamek before he added 3 amber gems that shimmered with the light of a trapped soul onto the table. She looked thoughtful for a moment, prompting another sigh, and the addition of a poison cloud scroll by Kamek, which, after some inspection, got a nod from the woman.

“Good, very good. Now that is left are the metals, and, of course, my fee” she replied, preparing to up-sell them the other materials before Jr leaned over and commented ”Don’t we have that refined metal stuff, it seemed pretty good, right?”

”Ah of course, well remembered young Master. here” the mage said as he re-enlaged two sets of refined metal and placed them on the table.

“We would require specifically silver and-” the sorceress began to say, before pausing and correcting herself “No, wait. I see, I sense the potential and purity in these too. How intriguing. Those will indeed do nicely for the materials, now all I need is to be paid for my services”

More grumbling, only for Rika to pop a strange rock she’d gotten atop the pizza tower onto the table, saying ”Do you want this, I keep forgetting I have it, and it only works when running, not jumping about like I’ve been doing”

”Ah, well, if you are sure, but I’m sure we can cover whatever small extra cost we are accruing with gold, geo, or souls” Kamek replied, attempting to put emphasis on small.

“Souls?” the sorceress asked as she paused her inspection of the Little Disciple, prompting Kamek to hold out a hand holding in a sum of 900 of the ephemeral currency. The shimmering light of them reflected in the sorceress’ eyes, before she moved a hand to take them, paused, and then offered to shake on it instead, saying “with that, you have yourself a deal, and my best work, that I can assure you” quite sure she had just made a killing.

”It’s a deal” Kamek replied, clasping the offered hand and shaking it, quite sure they were the ones who had come ahead in the end. Really only time would tell. Specifically the amount of time it took the sorceress to create the item, which involved a lot of magical circles, chanting, and other magical classics as she worked her power.

While she did, the troop enjoyed the shade and privacy of her home, and either took a rest or played some video games, depending on their proclivities.

Soon enough there was the unmistakable flash and feel of magic, and it was done. Sitting within a burnt out spell circle, and surrounded by 10 now lifeless gemstones, sat the fruit of the sorceress's labor.



Tall as she was, the tower shield was framed with immaculately carved bronze, sporting the emblem of the Koopa troop at its top, namely Bowser’s face, which loomed over a plane of immaculate polished silver, that reflected both the troop and, shimmering around their own reflections, hazily reflections of Bowser’s minions … mostly in the process of being squashed by a certain plumber.

It appeared that ‘long lost battles’ could have two meanings, one of battles lost to the mists of time, and the other battles that had long ago been, well, lost. The troop certainly had a plethora of those to draw from.

Standing behind her creation, the sorceress was a touch confuse as to why the three koopa's eyes narrowed at the sight of it, then yelped in alarm as Bowser declared ”alright let’s test it out!” before swiftly cocking a shoulder cannon and unleashing a flash cannon burst at the offending object.

As he did so, one of the figures became clear in the hazy reflections of battles past, and a perfect mirror image of Mario leapt out of it. Right in the path of the bolt of light Bowser had fired. It slammed straight through the illusion and then into the polished silver of the mirror shield as the sorceress cowered behind it. It was the only thing that saved her from being blinded when the concentrated light bolt burst against the surface and the resulting light flashed back the way the shot had come.

There where several gah’s from the troop, except for Rika who had the passive protection of the essence of melted down sunglasses to shield her from the glare, so she was the first to observe how ”Oh hey cool, it worked”

There was a little pause, followed by a cough from the sorceress before she regained her composure and replied that “of course it did” even if it hadn’t really reflected the shot, mainly endured it. Still, Bowser for one was delighted (once he had wiped his eyes clear) declaring ”Gah ha! That was great! Let me blast another Mario!”

”Perhaps another time your glaring-ness, I can’t imagine the city guards will be very-” Kamek began to say, right on time for one of the guards to pop her head (and spear) in through the door to check if everything was alright.

“Everything is fine, nothing to worry about. I was just concluding a deal, assuming my clients are happy with it?” she replied, before glancing at the troop, who all nodded in agreement. The guard narrowed her eyes, made a gesture indicating ‘im watching you’ at the troop, and then departed, prompting Kamek and the Sorceress to sigh with relief.

“Well then, a pleasure doing business with you?” she enquire as a polite suggestion that they be on their way, to which Kamek agreed ”A pleasure” before following up on her suggestion by making his own, namely ”I think we should perhaps be on our way? Can’t leave the others lingering too long without, ah, proper royal guidance” which got them moving.

A few moments later, and they were heading out to find the rest of the team, their new mirror shield strapped to Bowser’s arm, the king lifting the tower shield sized bulwark as easily as a smaller being would a common round shield.

Susie and Blazermate were able to fly to the ship that was being surrounded by clouds, arriving before it took off. Although Susie learned the downside of that fusion with Midgar's guardian; it made her slower even on her transporter. Still, unlike Roland and Goldweis, being able to fly let the two bot ladies make it to the airship. Roland was a lot less fortunate though as Goldweis had an idea that Roland didn't like, but had no input on. With a quick "Wait wha..." Roland was uppercutted and used as a jump point by Goldweis. This brought them both to the ship, and something of Goldweis' made it so Roland took minimal damage but it was still dangerous. "Holy crap, your a crazy old geezer!" Roland said in shock and surprise as he got up, Blazermate healing the minimal damage done to him and getting everyone ready with overheals for what would be a fight with another Consul.

"Speaking of old geezers, that one makes you look like a young buck." Roland said, making fun of the Consul that was chasing them. Having been ages since the greeks in his world, Roland had no idea who Consul Z was supposed to represent. Neither did Susie or Blazermate, although for the latter, it was due to her lack of interest in history. That, and they were going to have to fight something that, unknown to them, terrified another Consul.

With battle starting, Roland was reminded of the strange spender of the Floor of Natural Sciences, and the darkness it held for him. Something he'd need to use for the battle ahead. Susie herself summoned her new Business suit, or mech now. Roland began to build his strength in combat by clashing with Z's cloudy minions using his swords. Susie meanwhile used her new business suit and its functions to go after Consul Z directly, with its area of effect attacks possibly splashing the minions as well. While the Artificial Gravity wouldn't do much, the Magicrystal missiles would do quite a lot. First however, Susie fired off her normal missiles and froze them in time leaving a veritable minefield for Consul Z to navigate through. She then attacked everything around her with the Magicrystals. This attack didn't do too much damage and even the minions would survive it... assuming they didn't stay stacked and magnify the damage they took.

Roland meanwhile was at it dealing with the cloud minions, building up his clashes with them. Since they weren't all that strong, Roland felt this would be a good thing for him to start with. With a won clash with his swords, a failed one with his daggers, and a tie with his hammer, Roland was already at Emotion level 2. He gained Justice, marking the one who did the most damage to the group as a 'villain' and thus amplifying the damage they took from him and his allies with the words of a peppy girl saying "Finally, a villain shows up! Careful, everyone." and Blessing, which would give Roland resistance to the last attack he was hit by, with a different woman's voice, more solumn, said "If I could have another chance to protect…"

Seeing his minions being dealt with, and having some of these impertinent whelps attempt to attack HIM, Z decided to turn his attention to the seekers themselves instead of their mode of transportation. He started by zapping Susie with a chain lightning and a lightning bolt. Being electricity element, these did bonus damage to her robotic suit and form. The chain then bounced to Roland, whom reflexively attempted to counter it, stopping the chain with him but gaining a stack of Charge. Blazermate healed up Susie, whom's Magicrystal barrage had landed at this point and destroyed any minions that grouped up and did a bit of damage to Z as well. This was a good call, as getting hit by Susie, Z decided to detonate his charge, zapping her and Roland with lightning. Roland then gained Electricity and Holy resistance, having been last injured by those elements.

"This is going to get worse before it gets better!" Susie said from her suit, having taken a few large hits already.

Primrose patiently waited for Ms. Fortune to inform the guys, standing with one hand on her hip as she idly surveyed the city. Whispers and rumors were sure to already be circulating around Gerudo Town about the man claiming to be king and those that had come with him, but the dancer was already used to having eyes on her. She took the stares in stride, knowing they would lessen at least a little once they split up from Ganondorf.

It had been a few days since she’d been here last, but now that she was back she was sure she could navigate to Yuria’s shop. She recalled it wasn’t on the main market street, but near the palace at the end of an alley - so they were actually close by. And since everyone had been thoroughly rinsed by the rain in the Home of Tears, it wouldn’t be a bad time to try on new clothes.

"I’m ready," she said once Ms. Fortune was finished. "I believe it’s this way."

Figuring that the two of them were the only ones interested in the tailor (and she wasn’t sure if Yuria’s skill extended to the more monstrous forms of some of their companions), Primrose set off and led them down a side street. At first she didn’t say much, which wasn’t unusual for her. She was wondering what kind of garment a ‘skinny jean’ was, but after a few minutes she started to tell Ms. Fortune about the last time she’d visited with Jesse and Ann, and what she recalled of Yuria’s process as told to them by the seamstress. Small talk brought on by the warm sun, circumstance, and having gotten to know Nadia a little better over the last couple of days underground - though she did leave out the jailbreak that had happened afterward.

Though Nadia seemed much happier now that the spotlight had shifted away from her, she decided to repay Primrose for her kindness by giving the puns a rest for the time being, and listening to the dancer’s story instead. With everything that happened to Blue Team both atop and within the Deep Blue Seaside, Nadia hadn’t really ever thought about what Yellow Team might be going through in the eastern’s desert on the continent’s other side. She dimly remembered the Ann girl Primrose mentioned from the Seekers’ big reunion in Twilight Town, and she seemed nice enough. Now that Jesse was gone, Nadia regretted not grilling her about the events of the Sandswept Sky when she had the chance.

Their trip to the tailor was short enough that Primrose didn’t have too much time to reminisce, but she still managed to provide a pleasant look back at the Seekers’ previous stay in Gerudo Town. The magic she ascribed to their soon-to-be seamstress also got Nadia excited. “So that’s what you were ‘dune’ here,” she grinned. Even if she held off on the puns for a few minutes, her friend’s reprieve was never going to be anything but short. After reaching a more narrow market street, the two passed by a food stall where aromatic seasonings put a special twist on Squats Chicken (now with extra bones) and an off-duty smith putting the finishing touches on a sturdy doghouse for a scruffy, caramel-colored stray. At the very end of the quaint little avenue sat their destination, made unmistakable by the pair of supersized scissors that hung above the door, casting the whole alleyway in the midday light that glinted off its metal surface. Beneath that impressive eye-catcher lay the tailor itself, open to the air so that everyone could marvel in wonderment at the vast bolts of colorful cloth arrayed there. The whole place possessed a sort of magical mystique, like the den of a fortune teller, and the light of a golden lantern made the well-dressed mannequins cast shadows that danced as if alive.

Right away Nadia spotted the owner, a radiant pink-haired lady in a dress of her own invention, which blended allure and elegance without overreaching into extravagance. Nadia couldn’t help but smirk at the dainty golden scissors holstered like a pistol on the tailor’s eye. This must be Yuria, the miracle worker who could evidently expose and express her customers’ true selves through fashion. Somehow, Yuria beat the feral to the punch, offering her visitors a sly smile. “Well, hello.” She winked at Primrose. “And hello again. Are you here to have your souls made manifest? Your destinies interwoven in color and cloth?”

"More or less," Primrose replied, holding up a hand in greeting. Right away Yuria made her craft sound sensational. It was talk like that which had intrigued Primrose initially. She had been curious the first time she'd visited the shop, and she was just as curious now - even though she honestly liked her current outfit. It was similar enough to her usual dancer's garb, but with a dark, dramatic flair of feathers and metals both enchanting and intimidating. Still, as a woman with feminine tastes, she couldn't pass up the idea of getting a perfectly tailor made outfit... especially from a seamstress who was so confident with her claims. Primrose felt more ready now for the price as well: honesty. Days ago she had been cagey about her past and her identity, just as she had been in her home world. As the adventure in The Under had progressed, its stakes getting higher and their surroundings more unpleasant, she had slowly come to realize that things like that hardly mattered anymore. Or rather, there were more important things to worry about.

Nadia stated her intent a lot more plainly. “That’s what I’m here for! Primrose here said this is the best place a cat can find something purr-sonalized.” She crossed her arms with an upbeat smile, flicking her tails. “Think you can help meowt?”

The pair’s interest elicited a pleasant smile of Yuria’s own. “Why, of course. To spin one’s story like yarn is nothing less than my calling in life. But I think you’ll find that you’ll be helping yourself more than anything.”

“Oh, right,” Nadia tilted her head as she scratched it, running through what her friend told her about this place and how it operated. “Primrose said somethin’ about some kind of interview? Well, this gabby tabby’s down to chat any day, any time.”

Her enthusiasm amused Yuria greatly. Clearly the poor feral had no idea what she was in for. “Something like that,” the seamstress tittered. “In order to divine the one outfit that would truly suit you best, I must first get your measurements–not of your body, mind you, but your soul. To that end, I have a few questions, and you must answer them honestly.”

“Honestly?” Though Nadia laughed it off, a subtle down-and-back shift in the position of her cat ears indicated an instinctual defense reaction “What, do people give you the wrong measurements or somethin’?”

Yuria smiled behind her hand. “That’s one way to put it. And even one falsehood can ruin the whole process, rendering the endeavor a waste. But if you’re able to be true to yourself, the world itself will marvel at you.” She gestured into her shop, toward an elevated round table toward the back. “We can proceed one at a time if you like, but doing this together may very well strengthen your friendship. Are you ready to begin?”

Putting her hands on her hips, Nadia glanced at Primrose for confirmation. “I honestly don’t know what my measurements are nowadays, so this might be a ‘bust’, but we can’t ‘waist’ this opportunity, right? Ready as I’ll ever be!”

Primrose had shown a valiant effort not to react to Nadia's puns this entire time (neither wanting to offend her by groaning or encourage her by laughing), but she couldn't help an amused smile at these. She did get the feeling that Ms. Fortune might be misunderstanding what Yuria was asking, so while she moved towards the shop's interior following the seamstress' invitation she also met the feral's eyes and said, "this is my first time getting one of these special garments too, but I get the impression we'll talk about a lot more than our body sizes."

It was a chance for them to back out if Nadia wasn't comfortable with that. Well, technically Primrose figured they could leave at any time if Yuria's questions got too invasive, but bailing out before then would be less awkward. Though if Nadia had a little more clarity about what they were getting into and was still okay with it, then Primrose was too. Maybe it would be nice to try and form some deep friendships with the people she was trying to save the world with.

Nadia, meanwhile, didn’t think too hard about this. Even if the questions turned out a bit different from what she expected, she could take them as they came. As such she followed Primrose into the shop, then sat down at the round table that Yuria directed them to while the seamstress pulled the curtain. All this ceremony certainly elevated the experience, and Nadia couldn’t wait to get this started.

After a moment Yuria seated herself as well, leaning back in her chair with her hands clasped on the table. Nadia half-expected her to start doing magic tricks, but the tailor adopted a more serious demeanor as she got down to business. “Well, let’s start at the beginning, shall we? What can I call you?”

“Ms Fortune,” Nadia replied without a second’s hesitation.

Her friend then easily answered, "Primrose."

Yuria nodded, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized her customers. Evidently, despite her asking such a simple question, the process had already begun. “And what would you ladies describe as your style?”

“Style…?” Nadia averted her gaze as she scratched her cheek with a self-conscious smile. “Well, I dunno if I got a lot of fashion sense, really.” She nodded at Primrose. “I don’t think you saw the ‘true’ Ms. Fortune, but my normal outfit’s pretty barebones. I’m not into any fancy, frilly, girly stuff. I’m a sporty kinda gal. I like whatever lets me move freely and doesn’t get in the way during all the action. I’m don’t mind showing off a little either. If you got it, flaunt it, right?” She shrugged. “Still… I guess I like stuff that looks badass. This coat was pretty cool back when it was smaller and lighter. Helped me look a little less shameless, too,” she added, chuckling.

Primrose inclined her head slightly, recalling what Ms. Fortune looked like when they met in Twilight Town. So she was already fused at that time too? It made sense, Primrose had been as well. "We've been through a lot of changes," she agreed, crossing one leg over the other as she listened to Nadia describe her preferred clothes. All of that made sense too, given her fighting style.

When eyes turned to her for her own answer, Primrose hummed lightly, thinking for a moment before she spoke.

"I've always worn beautiful things. Silks, gold. And you can see, I'm a little shameless myself." She winked at Nadia. Her exposed stomach, split skirt, and cleavage teasingly glimpsed through her feathered mantle said as much. It was all part of being a dancer though, and she mentioned that too. "It may just be what I'm used to. Being... alluring, is part of the job. But... I do appreciate an elegant look as well. And I agree - something easy to move in."

She prescribed to the notion of "flaunt it if you've got it as well," having nodded along when Ms. Fortune said it. She could easily picture herself in something like H'aanit's cozy furs, but something a little more high class was more to her tastes.

Yuria listened to the two with a keen interest, though not so attentive that she came across as nosy. “I see, yes~” she purred, her tone playful. “You both fit in well in Gerudo Town, as you may have already surmised. Here, beauty is something to be proud of.” She crossed her arms. “Of course, the same cannot be said for superficiality. Now then, my second question. What would your friends say you’re like?”

“Hmm…” That question got Nadia thinking for a moment as she began to realize more of the attention behind this interview. She guessed that this seamstress was more interested in her clients as people than as arrangements of numbers, and the feral could appreciate that. “I figure most people’d see me as that friendly, upbeat gal who’s always ready with a smile and a joke. Someone you could buddy around with, be yourself around, and get up to all kinds of mischief together. I just hope everything thinks I’m purr-etty cool, y’know? Oh, and funny. It’d be kinda awkward otherwise, given how often I make jokes, heheh, heh…” She trailed off.

Primrose closed her eyes for a few moments while Nadia answered, imagining what her friends would say about her. She was sure Tressa and Alfyn would have nothing but good things to say, while the professor would be quite literal with it. She wasn't exactly sure what she thought her friends thought about her, because she generally tried not to care what other people's opinions of her were. So when she opened her dark green eyes and settled them on Yuria, she gave a short answer.

"I've been told many a time that I'm mature and confident... as well as skillful and shrewd. I doubt any of them would disagree on that."

She wasn't sure if she should affirm Ms. Fortune's thoughts, so she stayed quiet on that front and let the seamstress take in their answers.

Yuria raised an eyebrow. “So that’s how you think people see you, is it? Appearances are certainly important. For me especially, given my line of work!” She laughed through her nose. “But just as what you wear shows off who you are, what you wear can hide who you are, as well. What are you really like?”

The inquiry caught Nadia off guard, even after Yuria’s mention of ‘honesty’ earlier. Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed. That was a tough question to answer. She wanted to tell Yuria that there was no difference between the person she was and the person the world saw. Hell, most of the time she was convinced, herself. Is it really a lie after all? Wear a mask for so long and you eventually become it, as they say. At the same time, though, she wasn’t sure that was the truth. Nadia just didn’t know. “Uhh…”

She looked over at her friend, hoping the dancer would bail her out with a response of her own as she tried to collect her thoughts. If anyone in the world had her shit together, it was Primrose. She was the very picture of elegance, maturity, and intelligence, strong and beautiful both inside and out. From the moment they first met in Twilight Town she inspired jealousy in Nadia’s heart, and even though they’d strengthened their bonds both in battle and in moments like the Terminal cafe, the feral still felt inferior. Nadia stared at Primrose expectantly, eager for a burst of thoughtful introspection she could crib from.

Primrose shifted, swapping which of her legs was crossed over the other. It only bought her a couple seconds of stalling when both Ms. Fortune and Yuria were looking at her and awaiting an answer. Even though she'd deemed people's pasts not worth worrying about in this world, her own included, she still found it hard to bare her true self even to such a small audience. Maybe starting off small would work... and then she'd just see where her mouth led her. So long as she was honest, it would probably be fine.

"...I'm a good judge of character," Primrose said, her little smile slowly slipping away. "Or I like to think so, at least. I always watch people, because... I can't trust them. Any stranger could be the next one to try and fool me, or touch me."

A flicker of a shadow passed over her face, revealing her unpleasant feelings on that for a moment. "It... takes me a while to warm up to people. For a long time I didn't want to. It wouldn't help me accomplish my goal, and I don't much like talking about myself anyway."

When she mentioned her 'goal' Primrose's eyes seemed to grow darker, reflecting a murderous storm while her expression grew serious. Her tone of voice remained eerily neutral, as though she were talking about a common everyday thing. Eventually that all faded as she continued. "...but you need honesty, right? So besides that... I'm stubborn. Tenacious. I made myself that way. And I already mentioned I'm shameless."

As she started to come to a close about what she was willing to tell the two of them, she smiled again. At first it was sharp when she brought up shame once more, as she refused to be ashamed of herself for any part of her life. Then her smile smoothed out, and the dancer's demeanor changed. She let her shoulders fall casually and she leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand and her elbow atop her knee. She seemed almost genuinely happy, just giddy to be there, a twenty-something girl without a care in the world.

"And I know that I'm quite the actress, too~" she finished with, keeping the cheerful persona for only a little bit longer. When she dropped it and returned to her usual self, she asked, "Was that what you were looking for?"

The dancer’s response hadn't been at all what Nadia expected. Somehow, Primrose seemed more conflicted than composed, and she hinted that she might be a lot more defensive, suspicious, and even dangerous than she let on. When she said ‘touch’, Nadia unconsciously shifted away. In the time the two had known one another, the feral hadn't even been aware of -much less respected- her friend's boundaries. Of course everyone has their own problems, but Primrose had hidden her dark side very well. ‘Quite the actress's, indeed. Faced with a live demonstration of just how convincing she could be, Nadia couldn't help but wonder how much of the dancer's true feelings she'd seen.

Yuria didn't seem all that surprised, though. If she conducted interviews like this regularly, she must be rather familiar with picking apart personas. “Intriguing,” she murmured. Nadia didn't know if she agreed; maybe she didn't want to know more about Primrose, if it meant finding out that the friend she'd come to know didn't really exist. For now, though, the more pressing concern was Yuria, who sat waiting for Nadia to come clean.

The thief took a deep breath. “Well…” The expression on her face, so ever-present that onlookers could only ever assume it to be natural, began to change. Her upbeat, wide-eyed look, with her brows raised and the corners of her mouth curled upward in vague amusement or interest, relaxed into a more neutral, almost tired-looking visage. “I really wanna be all those things I mentioned. Happy, positive, cool, funny. Am I, though? I dunno.” She placed her clasped hands on the table and shrugged. “Truth is, I'm kind of a mess.”

Admitting that made her nervous, but it also ended up being something of a relief. She sighed and continued. “I'm in a weird place mentally. Really…desensitized, I guess. Numb. If I'm not having fun with my pals, or doing something crazy to push myself, I kind of just…shut off. It's hard to take things seriously when I don't hurt or feel like other people do. But I'm fine being this happy-go-lucky caricature of myself, as long as it cheers people up. Because if I'm not that peppy, cheery jokester…what am I?” After a moment, she shrugged, downcast. “That's why I want people to like me so much, I guess. To confirm that's who I am.”

Nadia chuckled wryly. “And…if we're really doing this, cards on the table, I guess I might as well put it out there. Women intimidate me.” She threw up her hands. “There, there it is. Laugh all you want.”

Of course, Yuria didn't laugh. “My next question, then, is what made you both this way.”

“I’m guessing you don't just mean that last part,” Nadia supposed, scratching her head. “Might as well go through it all though. My parents abandoned me when I was really young. I was raised by the Fishbone Gang. Four dudes. I had mostly guy friends growing up, too. I hung out with ‘em, played their games, and so forth. I was a real tomboy.” She cracked a smile. “Still am. Hanging out with guys was simple and easy. Everyone liked me, and I never had to do anything special. But when it comes to girls…I feel like a fraud.” She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a gasp, her ears flattened. “Everyone else seems so much prettier, smarter, more mature, more real. And then there’s me, dressing all showy just to prove I'm confident in myself.”

Her chair creaked as she leaned back. “Anyway…I lost my family. Our last heist went south. She killed us, one by one. Carved us up into little pieces. Only I survived.” By now, Nadia didn't even sound that broken up about it. How many times had she circled this drain, after all? “After that, there was no more Nadia. Just Ms Fortune.”

The shop's interior was quiet after everything Nadia said. Primrose empathized with her, but even so she didn't make any move to comfort her friend. She had the feeling that would be the wrong move, and might make her feel worse in regards to her imposter syndrome. It wasn't lost on Primrose that she was probably one of the girls Nadia compared herself to. She couldn't exactly help who she was though.

The last thing the feral talked about drew Primrose's eyes to her. Her gaze flickered from her face to the marks on her arms and legs, the places where her body could detach. Primrose figured that something must have happened to her in order to gain a power like that, but she was surprised to hear that the thief had literally been cut to pieces. And her family as well... It was a terrible story. The protective, violent part of Primrose hoped that whoever did that to them had suffered for it. She didn't offer her condolences then, because she knew from experience it didn't help, but there was a sympathetic look in her eyes at least.

Now that Nadia had put those painful memories out there, it would only be fair for Primrose to do the same. If she grew tight lipped it would not only ruin the point of all this, but also make her a poor friend. Responding in kind with her own story would probably be better than pretty words anyway. So when it was her turn she didn't let the silence drag on for too long, sparing Ms. Fortune from any awkwardness following that.

"...it's no secret that I worked as a dancer. I'd always loved dancing, but the job itself..." Though she'd barely gotten started, Primrose paused. In the Sunlands where she'd spent most of her adult life, only the naive thought that a dancer's only job was to take the stage and entertain. She wasn't sure that either of the women with her would know just what kind of living it was unless she spelled it out a little more. Before she did, she made sure she kept herself looking casual, lest they offer her any unwanted pity. "I spent my days flattering the dignities of men who paid for the privilege. Luring them into the tavern, performing on its stage, and if their pockets were sufficiently deep, giving them a... private, more intimate show afterward. It was made all the more degrading by having to answer to a cruel master.

"I was but a girl when I was taken in by the tavern owner. The target of jealousy and petty pranks from the other girls, and the whims of the master. I was his 'favorite kitten'." She scoffed. Just recalling Helgenish's pitiful existence disgusted her. But the important part of her tale was still to come, so she went on.

"But there was no disgrace I would not endure. And I never regretted it. Because after all those years, it led me to them. ... the men who killed my father."

Though she tried, Primrose couldn't help that her voice hardened at the mention of her father. Though she and Ms. Fortune suffered similar tragedies in regards to their families, in this respect they differed. Her father's death still haunted Primrose a decade later, and her vengeance was her life's goal. There would be no situation where she could remain completely nonchalant when talking about it. But when she realized that her thoughts were going to go to a darker place like they usually did when she recalled her father, the Obsidians, Simeon... she shook her head slightly and cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Seeing him avenged was the reason I left my home in the first place, and ended up where I did," she finished with, not really feeling any lighter for having divulged all of that.

Once she finished, Nadia gave Yuria her attention, wondering just where the seamstress could go from here. Instead Primrose spoke up again, much to the feral's surprise, but her curiosity turned to horror as Primrose, perhaps emboldened by Nadia's own honesty, took a deeper dive into her own dark history. Nadia practically cowered, her skin crawling the whole time, as Primrose told her a grisly tale of wanton cruelty and ignominy. Though she spared her audience the gruesome details, the dancer made the weight of all that she'd suffered in her quest for revenge very clear. Her few minutes of agony suddenly seemed small potatoes compared to years of humanity-stripping sexual abuse. Part of Nadia felt terrible for wallowing in self-pity when someone who'd seen true hell was right here in front of her, but she knew that this was the one time that she absolutely shouldn't be making comparisons. Instead she should be empathizing, making sure that Primrose didn't regret confiding in her, regardless of the circumstances. But what could she say?

Nadia could think of only one thing. "I'm really sorry." She didn't place a hand on Primrose's shoulder, but her heart went out to her.

"Don't be," she said. She fixed Ms. Fortune with a look that reassured the feral that she needn't worry or feel bad for her, then looked back to Yuria.

After a moment, Yuria nodded, her face sympathetic. "Thank you for sharing this. For what it's worth, I'm no therapist. I wish that I could heal your scars, but I am not qualified to do so. Still, I do want to say something, trite though it may sound. No matter what you both have been through, you are no broken goods. I believe that there is no stain so dark that it cannot be washed clean. You can still shine, brilliant as the breaking dawn."

She offered a reaffirming smile. "And since you have so bravely bared your souls to me, I will do what little I can to help." Yuria lifted her hands and began to weave her magic. A soft, multicolored glow filled the shop as threads of light flowed from the shelves and wound through the air, smooth as running water and melodic as sheet music. The threads converged around her customers and began to slowly take shape.

When the light threads began flying, Primrose watched them closely, tracing their paths through the air. She stood up as they wove around her, taking a deep breath to relax herself. She knew this must be the seamstress' process.

When it was finished, her new outfit still evoked the image of a dancer, but a more elegant one. Her dress was reminiscent of her original garments, though in one piece instead of two. It was a rich dark red in color with a mermaid style cut, fitted at the top with a shallow v-neck and more loose once past her hips. Both sides were slit to reveal her bare legs, one side cut straight and one with a clam shell hem. There was more fabric overall than her previous skirt, which hid most of her thighs when she stood still but swished pleasantly when she moved. And it was decorated with little gold beads that glinted under light. The beads were most concentrated at the dress' bottom, scattered and thinning out as they climbed up, with only a few sewn into the top hem.

Though the dress was sleeveless, Primrose's shoulders were not bare. A cluster of dark feathers covered both of them while also securing the dress in place. From the feathers, sheer ribbons of gray fabric fell. That fabric didn't become sleeves so much as it draped over her upper arms and over her elbow, and it was light enough that when she moved it moved with her, swaying and appearing to float. A pair of short, formal gloves of the same sheer fabric covered her hands and ended just past her wrist. The cowl that had adorned her head was completely gone, though a hairband remained - golden colored with inlaid spheres of onyx and emerald. Though simplified, her accessories remained; two necklaces, one a choker and the other laying a little lower, an arm bangle, a pair of hoop earrings and two pairs of bracelets. She noted that the talon-rings had remained as well.

To top it all off was a pair of simple, sturdy, and stylish sandals. They had a larger sole than her original pair, so they must have been better suited for walking and hiking, but could still be danced in just fine. The sandals were almost at odds with the rest of the ensemble especially given their darker red leather color, but a ribbon wound around her leg in the same color managed to pull the entire look together.

Whatever impression she may have given off before, now Primrose looked part dancer, part dark sorceress, and part high society socialite. Looking down at herself, she thought that there were parts of the outfit influenced by her fusions that she had particularly liked. The dark feathered mantle transformed into shoulder coverings gave her a kind of dark satisfaction, as she took them as proof she had already claimed the lives of the crow’s right and left wings. And though she was more covered up, the form fitting section of the dress that showed off her figure made up for it... because she still needed to flaunt that figure when the situation called for it. She spun in place, noting happily how the fabric flowed and the beads sparkled. It was easy to move in, and the dress itself moved nicely. Eye-catching, but not obnoxiously so. She was sure she would be able to run, fight, and of course dance in it.

Primrose smiled. The unpleasant pasts she and Nadia had spoken about weren't forgotten, but they were in the past - and in the face of such a beautiful outfit she couldn't help but smile, slow and genuine.

Before she even thought about thanking Yuria or getting a proper look in a mirror, the dancer looked over at Nadia. If her own outfit had turned out so well suited for her, then she was a little excited to see what Nadia's looked like. "How do you feel? Do you like it?" she asked.

Thanks to Yuria's magic, the feral's getup has undergone a complete overhaul that resulted in a striking new look. No element of Nadia's current attire has gone untouched, and nothing stood out more than her new jacket. It featured a shortened bolero style, reaching down about halfway to her waist, and though leathery in texture and appearance its color was dark blue, with a vivid royal blue interior most visible on her braggadocious lapels and the insides of her sleeves, rolled up to the elbows. Black fur around the collar and the jacket's bottom edge made the whole thing even showier. Its size strengthened her silhouette, offering a healthy dose of punk flair.

Beneath the jacket Nadia wore a tapered black silk button-up, though only a few buttons were fastened. Its sides stopped at her waist, but its front and back tapered farther downward in a fashion somewhat reminiscent of her leotard, turning what would be a businesslike article of clothing into something confidently casual. Shorts of the same style as her jacket were a nice compliment, held up by her belt with all its pouches. Her mantreads looked more like black punk boots now, with heavy heels, and they matched the bulk of fingerless gloves almost like MMA gloves. Even her collar was a little different. The bell that hung there seemed to be silver, consistent with the metal visible throughout her new attire, including a silver fishbone insignia.

Overall, the new outfit wasn't a dramatic change. It represented a return to form in some respects, but aspects of Rhodeia, Massachusetts, Cat-5, Kanna, and even Kronya remained, a reminder of how Nadia's time in the World of Light had changed her. In that respect both sets of new clothes had something in common, though the blues and reds (not to mention the very different styles) formed a sharp contrast as well.

The moment she started looking herself over, Nadia appeared to be beside herself with delight. "It's so cool!" She practically sang, all smiles as she turned this way and that to look herself over. Though these clothes covered her more, they did not restrict her, and they still very much brought out the best in her, so the extra material just added extra character. This getup, clearly expensive in make, incorporated both the charm of a scamp and the aplomb of a mafioso to create the look of a high-class hooligan.

Nadia couldn't be happier, and her face said as much as she turned to Primrose. "This is awesome! I feel like a million bucks." Seeing her friend's new clothes, she couldn't help but be wowed once more. "Whoa, you look great too!" When she noticed the fishbone, though, her expression became a mix of confusion and wonder that she quickly turned toward Yuria. "But...how did you...?"

"Oh, I didn't do much," the seamstress smiled. "Just a little convenience. This," she gestured to her customers. "Is all you."

After a moment, Nadia grinned. Being real for a moment had been a small price to pay for a reward like this. "Now that's what I call magic. Thank you, Yuria."

"You have my thanks as well," Primrose said, turning her own smile toward Yuria. Both of her customers looked amazing, and joy was clear in their faces. Yuria really was a fabric miracle worker. "Are you sure there is nothing you want for payment?"

The seamstress giggled, glad that her customers were so pleased. "It cost me very little, in truth, and I would say it was a privilege to work with you, so I would not put a price on my little magic trick. But one outfit isn't enough to live life in, so if you or your friends ever need anything else tailored or sewn, I'm sure you know just where to shop." Yuria winked. "Though of course, if my services truly moved you, I could not possibly turn down any gift you might wish to provide~"

Nadia smirked as she reached for one of her poiches. "Well, as it happens, I recently came by a little windfall. Might as well pay it forward, eh?" Nadia rummaged through her wallet and withdrew 2000 zenny from she sum she appropriated from Le Felin in the Metro. "Keep the change. It's more than I mon-need."

Not nearly as wealthy as Nadia at the moment, Primrose parted with the small diamond she'd acquired underground. She was sure that just one of their outfits was worth more than the combined gifts, let alone both of them, but if nothing else the zenny and gem could be put towards new clothes for future clients that Yuria helped. She pressed it into the seamstress’ palm.

"Goodness!" Yuria's eyebrows rose. "You're too good to me. If you're certain, I will honor your wishes, though."

"You'd better. Have a good one!" Waving at Yuria, Nadia turned to go along with Primrose, eager to show the whole world her new duds.

Yuria remembered something as her customers left, and reached out her hand. "Oh! I forgot to tell you one other quirk of these clothes. My garments are resistant to magic alteration. So keep that in mind if you ever try to make adjustments to them."

Having stopped to listen, Nadia gave a sagely nod of understanding. "Truly, a purr-iceless treasure." She paused, then waved again. "Alrighty then, thanks again. Bye for real!"

The pair exited. Yuria’s parting comment got Primrose wondering if that included the effects spirits had on garments, but her attention was very quickly drawn back to their new clothes. In the sun, the small gold beads on Primrose's dress sparkled even more. It had been a long, long time since the dancer had worn an outfit of her own choosing. And with one of this quality, she almost felt like she had as a little girl in the Azelhart estate, trying on dresses in a time when both of her parents had been alive. It was a nice feeling.

Looking at Nadia, Primrose could tell she was enjoying her own as much as she was. When they entered the alley headed for the main thoroughfare, Primrose slowed down and stopped about halfway through where they would have the most privacy.

"Ms. Fortune?" she said, unsure if the feral would want anyone to call her by her given name.

Nadia practically bounced along as the two left Yuria's shop. Being able to confide in a friend about how she really felt, even if just for the sake of material gain, might have taken some weight off her shoulders after all. Or maybe she just really liked her new outfit. With the Seekers' campaign against Galeem on pause in favor of a richly deserved break, this happenstance renewal made her feel like the world was her oyster. But what to do next? She remembered someone mentioning a bathhouse or something, probably Primrose herself given how many unique experiences her attentiveness had led to so far, and a good soak sounded nice. Kind of funny that just after getting her new clothes she'd be stripping them off, but now that she actually had something special she sure didn't want to get it soaked. Maybe I should've checked in with Yuria about swimsuits, she pondered.

When Primrose called her name, though, Nadia stirred from her thoughts and answered without hesitation. "Yeah? What's up?"

At the risk of infantilizing or alienating her friend, Primrose held out her hand and motioned for Nadia to give her own hand over to the dancer. Primrose was not so delicate a flower that any touch repulsed her, and she was glad that Nadia indulged her. Primrose clasped her other hand over Nadia's, turning what would have been an oddly timed handshake into what she hoped was a gesture of comforting solidarity. After all of that, she did feel closer to Ms. Fortune, and had something more to say.

"Cathartic, hm?" she said, though perhaps more for her friend than for her. "It goes without saying that I won't tell a soul anything you don't want them to know. And though I know it doesn't really help, I'm sorry about what you went through as well."

She didn't quite hurry through the words, but she did push past them with a small smile. "Can I tell you something else? Something my father said to me once."

For a moment after shaking the dancer's hand with gusto, Nadia allowed herself to get serious again. "Thanks. I'll be alright." She hardly needed to say aloud that she would return the favor; the two women understood the arrangement with just a glance. When Primrose mentioned something else, though, Nadia replied. "Of course!"

"Wealth is not found in the eyes of others. One of his many sayings I took to heart." It meant not to place worth in how others viewed you, though sometimes it was easier said than done. Primrose released Nadia's hand.

"Well, now that that bit of sentimentality is over, why don't we go show off~? Then meet up with Queen Sectonia for a nice soak before our next stop."

"I appreciate it." The feral gave Primrose's hand a final grateful squeeze before she let go. "And that sounds great!" She took off running, then turned halfway back to beckon her friend to follow her. "C'mon! Water we waiting for?"

Primrose grinned, setting off after her. She pressed a hand to her ear to inquire about their queen bee's whereabouts and when she caught up to Nadia, pointed the way toward the public baths.