Trudging along through the sand dunes with his overcoat draped in his arms Osvald lost himself in quiet contemplation stopping for a moment as he crested the top of a dune he surveyed his surroundings for a moment he spotted Therion still a bit ahead.

Leaving whatever hijinks the spikey shelled turtle and his boy got up to behind, the scholar had been following the trail of the brooding young thief to wherever this ‘oasis’ he had mentioned was.

Osvald wouldn't dare say but he at least found Therion’s company amicable, the boy didn't mince words or waste time with idle chatter unlike another feline thief they both had the unfortunate luck of knowing.

Wiping away a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead the scholar dusted off his trousers after sliding down the hill of sand, he had shed the shabby rags he found after his dalliance with brigands and decided it best to strip off the ruined cloth in order to beat the heat.

For a man of his ilk, Osvald's physique didn't quite match up with the stereotypical image of what most magic users and bookworms tend to look like; bulky and tall, sauntering behind the thief with his coat draped in one arm his chest exposed to the sun. He had long scars across his back, and arms most likely from the sting of a lash.

It wasn't exactly hard to notice the old guy following him, the light clinking of the chain connected to the manacle around Osvald’s neck filled the bouts of silence intermingled with the cries of distant birds likely circling a cadaver far out in the endless expanse of sand.

Thankfully for Osvald, the trek through the desert needn't last much longer. Therion disappeared behind a sand dune, and after the scholar crested it himself he could see the oasis not far off.

Kara Kara Bazaar was only about a mile outside of Gerudo Town, though the heat may have made the walk seem longer. Besides the aforementioned oasis, the area featured an inn, a general store, and of course a small open air bazaar.

Though there was at least one peddler of textiles, food was the main thing that could be found for sale here, catering to weary desert travelers with fresh fruits and filling meats. There were plenty of palm trees scattered around the water, and it was there that Therion headed - swiftly past a market stall and then seating himself on the sand under the shade a little ways away.

The gruff looking scholar had longed for the relief of the oasis and when it came into view he heaved a heavy sigh of relief, his feet weary from trudging through the unforgiving sand dunes as he approached, the radiant sunlight danced on the water's surface creating a mesmerizing glow. Casting his heavy overcoat to the ground, Osvald sought release from the oppressive heat.

He gingerly stepped into the cool water, soaking the fabric of his trousers to soothe the burns of the arid wilderness. As the water embraced his sun-warmed skin, the cool relief enveloped him, bringing a long-awaited solace to his worn frame.

The signs of hardships endured were etched into his reddened flesh, recalling the cruel lashes of captivity, fleeting though this moment was the water felt soothing but only for a moment. Osvald's steely eyes surveyed the surrounding Oasis, at the various though few stalls selling their goods ‘I don't relish the idea of dealing with these Gerudo were I to steal from one of these traders in broad daylight.’ the scholar thought to himself as he carefully stepped out of the glittering blue water.

“Tell me,” without anything else to dry his wild hair with he used his crumpled overcoat, as he approached the palm beneath the shade of which Therion laid under “That thing on your arm, it's not jewelry I'm guessing.”

Not nearly as cautious as Osvald in regards to petty theft, Therion had already nicked a couple fruits when he passed the stalls by. He paused in biting into an apple when the scholar walked up to him, confused at first. He wasn’t surprised that Osvald had followed him to the oasis, since it was the only other place around besides the women-only town. And it seemed like Osvald had imprinted on him or something, maybe since his was the first face (Artorias’ helmet could hardly be called a face) he’d seen since being locked up for who knew how long? But he didn’t expect the man to make more idle conversation. Therion glanced down at his right arm, then it clicked that “that thing” must be the manacle tight around his wrist, since it was in view while he’d been eating. Through all the changes that had happened to his body while fusing and unfusing, that hunk of metal remained just as it was, even in his beast form.

"What, this?" he said, shaking his wrist so the short chain clinked together. "I guess Solistia and Orsterra aren’t that similar if you don’t recognize it."

Honestly, the fact that more people didn’t recognize it was a huge boon for the thief. Especially because… well, it was practically a sign attached to him that said “I AM A THIEF.” Therion took another bite of his apple, mulling over whether to tell the man or not. It didn’t really matter in the long run, since apparently the geezer was sticking around and it wasn’t like Therion was going to steal from his allies… unless they had something really, really good and refused to share. Plus it wasn’t like he had much else to do besides sit around and wait for the others.

"It's called a ‘Fool’s Bangle.’ A special prize for anybody caught red-handed."

the scholar wasn't surprised, he even seemed amused though his face was pretty hard to read “Hmph, how am I not surprised.” Osvald grunted, crossing his arms “Though you seemed to easily unlock my chains, why is that still shackling you?”

Now didn’t that just wound the young man’s pride? He put on a small, rueful grin and turned his arm, showing the completely smooth surface of the manacle. There was no lock to pick, and hardly even a seam to be found. It was very clearly not designed to come off; a permanent reminder. Of course, the man who had shackled him alleged there was a way to remove this particular bangle, but Therion had doubted that.

"Fashion statement. Everybody’s doing it," he said sarcastically, clearly a dig at the chain on Osvald’s own neck. Then the thief flopped down onto his back, folding his hands behind his head while propping it against the palm tree while he crossed his ankles. His tail swished back and forth slowly, pushing the sand around.

“I think we're the only one-” the scholar's brow furrowed as he began to speak only to clam up, realizing the obvious jab at his own so called accessory. Osvald snorted derisively “Very funny, so you say you were caught. You don't seem the kind to get caught.”

Therion scoffed. "Good eye, considering we hardly know each other. I'm not."

The lazy flick of his tail turned into agitated thumping on the sand. He didn't say anymore, since he didn't feel like talking about it. Everybody had bad days - the day he'd been caught at the Ravus Manor just happened to be one of them. Looking back on it, the only reason he'd ended up traveling with Alfyn, Primrose, and the others was because of his fuck up there. While ultimately it ended up paving the way for something good in his life (though he wouldn't admit that out loud), getting caught in the first place still stung his ego.

I gotta find this guy a tome or something, Therion thought. Some kind of distraction. At first it was hard to believe Osvald was a scholar as he'd said, but if the magic wasn't enough the questions certainly proved it. Always the curious ones, those scholars, no matter how grizzled.

In the middle of that thought, potentially interrupting any further questions Osvald had, Therion's ear flicked. The linkpearl inside it came to life, delivering a message from Nadia. Apparently Ganondorf had gotten them all a pass, even the men, without tearing the whole city apart. That was surprising.

"Fortune just called. Sounds like they got us guys an exception for entering town," he told Osvald.

To which the man simply inclined his head “Hm, then there is little reason to stay here.” the scholar retrieved his brown overcoat from the ground nearby, shaking the sand from it and hanging it loosely over his shoulders at least that way he wouldn't be completely shirtless when they were in town.

“Hand over the umbrella,” Osvald said, turning with a hand out his tone making it clear it wasn't a request but still it was slightly more polite than usual “Please, and thank you.”

Therion wasn't sure he agreed with the first statement. He was actually considering staying put and just lounging until the group chose to move on. At the second thing Osvald said, Therion narrowed his eyes at the man. He was honestly not expecting to be asked to return it at all. But like hell was he going to give it up when the threat of rain or water could come at any time.

"Huh? Why?" he asked. "You want me to pay you back for it or something?"

The scholar shook his head, he almost looked amused for a second though with his beard it was hard to tell.

“I don't require payment for something I never paid for,” the mage stuck his hands in the pockets of his frayed trousers and stuck them out showing the thief he had nothing in them “I simply took what I needed.”

"Great, so if it cost nothing and isn't some family heirloom, I'll just hold onto it."

It was a little funny to imagine the tall old man trying his hand at thievery, if that was what he was implying. But Therion hunkered down in his spot, defensive over the random umbrella, and dismissive of Osvald. If the scholar was in want of shade for the walk to Gerudo Town's gates, he could have to make due with a large palm leaf or else "take" a keffiyeh from one of the bazaar's stalls. "Have fun in town."

Osvald considered grabbing the boy by the collar, though he'd seen him hold a dagger and how nimble he seemed though aloof he may be “Fine, keep it.” he hadn't the patience to argue with Therion nor a reason to but he was too annoyed to prove a point he simply turned looked out over the desert with a sigh.

“And what? Are you content to stay here? Not that I care.” stubbornly he began to trudge, calling back to the thief one last time before cresting the top of a hill of sand “Hm, anyways I'll see you when I see you.” and with that the ornery scholar disappeared behind the dune.

Therion lazily held up a hand as Osvald left, though not quite a wave it was a gesture of goodbye. He very much was going to stay there, he decided. Some time to himself in the peaceful oasis sounded too nice to pass up. When he dropped his arm he called back in via pearl just to let them know he'd gotten the message and that he was going to stay put for now, but to keep an eye out for the old man without a communication pearl of his own. Then fished another fruit from beneath his poncho and indulged.

Climbing to the roof of the Virgin Victory with the others, Geralt sighed as she saw the approaching form of Consul Z on his chariot. Zenkichi, decked out once more in his Phantom Thief attire, summoned his revolvers and took a ready position, aiming at the Consul but not quite firing. When he cried out, Geralt frowned, her face scrunching a bit. "Moebius? Already? Whoreson must actually consider us a threat." A double-edged sword in that they'd get no opportunity to get used to any of his tricks before he went all-out on them, but that he'd also have no chance to wear them down before unleashing his full might. Though something told Geralt that Z still saw this as sport rather than an existential battle.

The bolt of lightning that rocked the Virgin Victory nearly sent her stumbling, but she widened her stance and cast Quen, protecting herself as Zeustrikes began attacking.

Zenkichi opened up with a barrage of Spectral bullets from Valjean, courtesy of a Triple Down that blasted a small group of Zeustrikes, even managing to triple-up on one of them and knock it from the sky before it could do anything. This activated Protection Protocol from Sandalphon's covenant, and Zenkichi whistled as he felt the defensive buff protecting him, and especially so when Z landed a lightning bolt directly on him, having seen Zenkichi no-sell some of his minions. The Thief retaliated with a burst of revolver fire at the Moebius, causing the Jolted effect on him to detonate. He yelped in pain, frowning before he paused, laughing. "Oh, wow, good luck to me. Uhh...what was it. Purification Protocol!" He remembered, giving a whooping cheer as he felt something change, even though he didn't get another skill out in time to prevent Z from hitting him with a chain lightning which skipped around the Seekers, building another charge. This time, however, when he retaliated with a One-Shot Kill from Valjean at Z, the Purification effect that removed the Jolted and Charge effects saved him from a detonation. "Oh yeah, this is gonna be helpful!" Zenkichi cheered.

Geralt, meanwhile, was working on the Zeustrikes, not confident that her crossbow or Odysseus's Bow especially would do much to the Moebius harassing them. She did her best to dodge attacks from the minions, but between their quantity and the residual sluggishness from the Harbor Water Demon, she took more than a few blows. Quen lasted a decent while, and by the time it shattered she was more than ready to apply another shield, but such a strategy would not work forever. She fired her crossbow at minions one by one, knocking a couple from the sky, but Z simply summoned more as their numbers fell below his liking. Geralt took a glance out at the ocean, wishing they could dock to allow her to summon the Breaching Bastion, but as satisfying as it would be, the massive platform would only make her an easier target.

Zenkichi dodged a shot from Z, firing his revolvers at a Zeustrike to distract it from firing at Blazermate, before starting to reload. A quick glance around showed him Midna, who was not looking so good. Valjean, Rakukaja!" He cried, giving Midna both a defense boost and a status cleanse, before a blizzard landed on him, dealing a good chunk of ice damage and frosting him up a bit. Z followed up by throwing his shield between Zenkichi and some other Seekers, hitting it with a lightning bolt and causing a detonation around it.

Yeah, this ain't my favorite ride!" He jokingly complained.

Roxas also climbed to the top deck of the Virgin Victory along with everyone else. And when he got there, he immediately saw the deck swarming with lightning minions that the Consul had summoned. Meanwhile, the Consul himself decided to stay in his chariot and pelt them with lightning rather than actually coming down there directly. Great, a Moebius who was also a pragmatist. Just what they all needed.

Unfortunately, Roxas already knew his ranged attacks were going to be next to useless here. Apart from wasting all his MP flinging spells at the Moebius who may or may not resist them, the only other option was the RockGun which he was pretty certain would probably just do chip damage at most. Better to focus on mopping up the Zeustrikes instead and try to keep them off the other Seekers’ backs who were trying to shoot at Z. However, Roxas did put one strategy in motion by summoning Fortune, who aimed her Rail Cannon at Z’s chariot and began the process of charging her weapon.

Once that was in motion, Roxas used his phantom ruby to summon the virtual cubes and arrange them in a protective cubical shell around Fortune, while still leaving her enough room to not be harmed by them touching her. He hoped this would keep her hidden from view and if worse came to worse, protect her from all the lightning attacks long enough for her to charge her rail cannon and fire it at Z.

And that was largely why Roxas got a slightly late start in going into the fray against the Zeustrikes. Their lightning arms could be problematic, but Roxas was agile enough to mostly avoid those. He wasn’t sure what elements these things were vulnerable to, if any, so he decided to avoid using Spells for the time being. The Nobody was certainly capable enough of cutting his way through these Zeustrikes. They looked like they could hit hard but also looked like they could be taken down with hard enough hits themselves. And that mostly proved true.

After managing to deal with a trio of Zeustrikes that were coming after him directly, Roxas went on the move. Getting around, even on the deck of a moving ship was pretty easy for him thanks to flow motion. So once he was on the move, Roxas made the rounds to hit various groups of Zeustrikes that were bothering the other Seekers. He started first with Geralt, who looked like she was having some trouble with their higher numbers. Roxas put his flow motion momentum into a ground strike that sent out a shockwave that could deal some damage but also knock many of the Zeustrikes off balance and give an opening for Geralt to follow up. But Roxas didn’t stick around long enough to see what the Witcher did, instead going right back on the move again in search of another Seeker he could help out.

At this point Roxas had committed to his decision to minimize his use of magic. With all the lightning raining down on them, there was a pretty real chance he might need to step in and help Blazermate heal everyone up. So with that in mind, Roxas was sticking with his current strategy of using flow motion to dance around the ship’s deck and putting that moment into attacks that could either take out Zeustrikes outright, or leave them open for someone else to follow up on. He figured someone like Sandalphon would likely be pretty well equipped to capitalize on the openings he made among the Zeustrikes. Or if not her, someone else surely would.

His first real problem came when a stray lightning bolt threatened to hit the area where Fortune was currently hidden. Not wanting to take the chance, Roxas zoomed back over to that location and essentially let himself take the lightning bolt instead of her. Lucky for him it wasn’t a chain lightning otherwise this would have been for nothing. But it did still hurt nonetheless, and unbeknownst to Roxas also inflicted him with Charge and Jolted. But at least he kept Fortune unharmed which meant she could keep charging her weapon interrupted. And so the Nobody shook it off and then went back on the move yet again, figuring that staying put too long was just asking to get struck by more lightning or get swarmed by Zeustrikes.

So the ship wasn't fast enough to outpace the storm - and it looked like it would be way too dangerous to try and break through it my climbing in altitude in order to get above. The static in the air tingled. Eyes combed the clouds looking for their assailant until Sandalphone called him out. As the form of Z and his vehicle came into view, Pit flew to the edge of the Victory's deck. He was leaning so far over the rail that he was in danger of falling off, but he had to get a closer look - because Z's ride looked way too similar to the Lightning Chariot!

"Hey! What gives?!" he yelled. Unless it ended up somewhere else when the world got all messed up, Viridi and Pittoo should have possession of the Chariot. He worried over their safety, though when Z zipped across the sky overhead his fears were dispelled. Those unicorns were not Phos and Lux, and the chariot the Consul drove was of a different make.

The proximity also told Pit something else, which he should have picked up on already from the energy the storm was giving off. "Z" was more than just really powerful, and his differentiating himself from the "mortals" was for a reason.

"Those Consuls even have gods working for them!" Pit exclaimed, honestly surprised at that revelation. It wasn't the nature of any deities he knew to stoop to teaming up with a big group, instead he would expect any random god out in this world to strike out on their own to try and amass power. It also didn't occur to Pit that this god, Z, and the god that Angel Land's master charioteer served could just have coincidentally similar design senses, so he also hollered into the storm, "Gods that totally rip off other people's chariots!"

Cue thunderbolt, as the battle had just begun at that point.

As one of the Seekers with ranged options, Pit didn't hesitate to return fire at Z. His light arrows may not be as fast as lightning bolts, but so long as the Conul wasn't zipping around he could strike the man and his steeds even from afar - especially because the more distance there was between the arrows and their target, the faster the arrows would move. Of course at the same time, he had and the rest of the group had to deal with the lightning itself and the Zeustrikes conjured.

The latter wouldn't have been as much of a problem if they weren't accompanied by Z's divine wrath. They were not only fast and aggressive, but tending to keep their distance and go for long ranged attacks. On the flip side though, they were easily dispatched. At least it seemed that way to Pit, who briefly swapped from firing on Z to pelting the nearest couple of Zeustrikes to stop their Thunder Blasts from going off. But when combined with the dangerous rocking of the ship and the near constant electric barrages either from actual lightning bolts or just the static electricity building up too much and discharging, it gave the Zeustrikes much freer reign of the small battlefield.

Thankfully some of the Seekers dedicated themselves to handling the minions, on top of the area of effect abilities helping to thin the herd as they were summoned in. Trusting that to them, Pit kept his focus on the Consul. They had to at least try and knock him out of the sky! And for that the angel gave up trying to mitigate the lightning entirely, since he had no real way to counter it. If he swapped to his defensive orbitars it would sacrifice his offensive, and if he tried bouncing the lightning back he had no clue if it would even hurt the little thunder cloud guys, let alone Z himself. Besides, even just getting grazed by a bolt seemed to electrify him, making his hair and feathers poof up.

The defensive barrier Goldlewis had given everyone helped, and he could dodge to the best of his ability, but it was the chain lightning that was Pit's biggest problem. Whenever it jumped around the Seekers, which was often, he found it near impossible to avoid - leading to frequent Charges being applied to him, and of course smaller, faster bolts striking him when the Jolted went off.

Gaah! I feel like a living lightning rod! The angel separated as best he could from the others to spare them the splash damage of the detonations. He poured his own energy into more powerful and more frequent dash and charge shots which he fired at Z, aiming to stop his pursuit before he and anyone else ended up fried.

Finding a weaponsmith wasn’t hard. But finding one from within the tribe proved a bit more challenging. The public smiths were vai from outside the tribe, and it quickly became apparent that they were not the ones that worked on the Gerudos’ weapons. This was likely because these smiths were outsiders and not kin to the tribe itself. But as a fellow tribesman, and especially as the king, Ganondorf had no trouble learning where a member of the tribe could have their weapons worked on.

The Gerudo had their own inhouse smith who operated within the main guard’s barracks. Her name was Linore, however her equipment and services were only available to members of the tribe itself. So it was fortunate then that Ganondorf was a tribesman himself. He had only but to ask one of the many guards and they pointed him right to where Linore could be found. He entered the smith’s workshop and saw an array of tools of the trade in addition to various weapons that were still a work in progress. And hammering away at the anvil was Linore herself. ”Well met, Kinsman.” Ganondrof said to her in greeting, ”I am told that thou art the one that I may entrust my blades to.”

Linore stopped hammering and glanced up at him. She looked surprised at first but then recognized who it was that was speaking to her. She had been too busy to gather at the audience earlier, but clearly she had already been informed of Ganondorf’s arrival. “Aye, that I am.” Linore said simply, “What kind of work do they need?”

At this, Ganondorf removed the twin swords from their scabbards and set them upon the nearby workstation table for her see, ”These blades were sealed away in an underground tomb, I know not for how long. But it is plain to see that they haven’t been touched or polished by a grindstone in some time.”

“Clearly…” Linore said as she peered closely at the weapons in question. “They were definitely forged by the tribe, but this specific design hasn't been employed in a very long time. Ancient blades like this deserve to be treated with great care.”

Meanwhile Ganondorf had counted out a few hundred Zenny that he placed on the table as payment. But the weaponsmith held up a hand and shook her head, “No need for that, Lord Ganondorf. My work is not for the coin, but for my loyalty to the tribe. Besides, I wouldn’t dare try to charge the king for my services.”

”As thou wish.” Ganondorf replied, pocketing the zenny once more, ”I hath other business to attend to. I trust I can return for my swords when that is completed?”

“Of course.” Linore said with a nod and bow, “For you, m’lord, I’ll begin the work immediately.”

”Excellent.” Ganondorf said, ”I shall leave you to it, then.” And with that he exited and began making his way toward his second destination.

---

The “temple” - Clair de Soleil - was right where Nabooru said it would be, on the northern side of Gerudo Town - incidentally the opposite side of where the train station was located. What Nabooru had conveniently forgotten to mention, however, was the massive 50 foot pit the temple itself was in, the pit’s walls even reinforced by sandstone. Not to mention the scorching hot gold dust that the structure was physically half-buried in. In fact there appeared to be other structures as well, half-buried and half-destroyed monuments of unknown origin on the outside around the temple itself. Clearly the Consul wanted her flame clock to be difficult to reach. But this alone wasn’t enough to deter the warlord. Seemingly unassailable temples was something he was quite familiar with.

Ganondorf summoned the phantom horse and rode it down toward the temple. With its ability to gallop through the air, reaching an entrance without running the risk of touching the gold dust was a simple affair. Maybe the Consul had not counted on any intruders having the ability to fly or move through the air. Either way, Ganondorf was in now. The temple’s architecture was unfamiliar to him, in fact it might as well have been completely alien. He supposed in some places it bore a slight resemblance to the Spirit Temple but that was only here and there and even then the actual resemblance seemed superficial at best. The walls of the temple appeared to be a similar sandstone that lined the walls of the outside pit. But unlike out there, these contained images and symbols inscribed into them. It had to be some kind of language, but like the rest of the temple, its meaning was completely unknown to Ganondorf.

Here and there he also saw support pillars that appeared to be made of a polished green stone. It could almost be mistaken for emerald or jade, at least until one looked more closely at it or felt it with their hand anyway. Deep in the temple, Ganondorf finally came across a spacious room with a stone staircase that led up to the top of a large central platform. And when he climbed the steps, the warlord had finally found what he was looking for. At the center of the platform stood the all-too familiar flame clock. And upon closer examination, Ganondorf noted that it was around two-thirds full. At this point, he put on the linkpearl earring so he could use it to communicate to the rest of the Seekers.

”I hath found the flame clock.” Ganondorf would be heard on all their linkpearls, ”In Clair de Soleil, as Nabooru said. The temple is at the bottom of a large pit on the northern side of the town opposite of where the train station is. And the clock itself appears to be two-thirds full. So that is one more clock whose location we confirmed.”

Ganondorf then paused as another idea came to him. Then he spoke on the linkpearls again, but this time addressing a specific Seeker, ”Ms. Azelhart?” Ganondorf asked Primrose. ”Can thou create for us another linkpearl? I would like to present one to Lady Riju, so that we may have a line of communication with Gerudo Town should the need ever arise.”

”Well, I guess that’s one way to do it” Midna commented as Goldlewis uppercutted Roland onto the ship, trying to make light of the situation even as her voice was uncharacteristically filled to the brim with nerves.

Those nerves died down just a little as the Virgin Victory proved itself to be quite the absurdly powerful machine, lifting into the air and then blasting off and away, but, unfortunately, the initial part of their getaway was only a brief reprieve. With little effort the Consul caught up, bringing the storm with him, and setting Midna’s heart beating faster again. The boasting he was doing didn’t exactly help, nor the way he called them ‘mortals’ which lined up with Pit’s identifying him as a god, or at least as someone who considered themselves as one.

Had she been in a more confident state of mind Midna might have shot back with insults and counter boasts about how he’d be their third so called god today, but as it was, all she ended up saying was ”Goddess, this is going to be awful”

She was, at least when it came to her own subsequent experiences, entirely correct in this assessment, as the already pain on the eyes lightshow in the sky started to rain down upon them. Lightning unending, infused with an extra kick that was just perfect to bring her down

Still, she didn’t find this out right away, as when Z targeted the badly spaced pair that were Midna and her Flygon with a bolt of chain lighting they had a way to handle it. The blast arched down towards them, prompting the ground type pokemon to throw itself in between its mistress and the attack. The bolt slammed into it, and then, rather than arching onwards, was redirected into the ground as the dragon earthed the strike. Still, despite its supposed immunity to electrical attacks, the pokemon still hunched in pain, something else other than electricity in the attack clawing at its vitality.

That was concerning.

The despite attack not striking her, it still impacted the princess nonetheless, Midna experiencing a spike of stress from mere proximity, as well as being dazzled by the close proximity of the blindingly bright lightning strike. A rather poor combination that left her retaliation, frantically flicking down the trigger of her Mutagen Shotgun till it clicked empty several times over, incredibly scattershot, all the pellets flying wide, which was an impressive lack of accuracy even for her. At least her flygon’s own retaliation, a burst of spikes who’s damage valued half of that of the chain lightning damage pre-damage-mitigation, flew far more true, lightly homing in on the causer of their release.

Unfortunately, while the Flygon could shut down a lot of Z’s lighting effects, both she and it fared incredibly poorly when a wave of ice washed across the battlefield thanks to the consul’s minions. The blizzard bit deep into Midna’s bones, while also chilling the soul and cracked the scales of her flygon, both of them weak ice due to their shared dragon typing, and the ground typing of flygon making them even more vulnerable, leaving the strikes devastating to endure.

It was her turn to block now, with the princess pulling her new ice shield from a portal, and them both of them hunkering behind it as the storm threatened them with extinction. Given it was merely a medium shield, it only did so much too ward the large beast and now fairly tall Midna from the storm.

It was incredibly fortunate then, that the lack of shooting power in the team led to them focusing a great deal of their strength on cutting down the mooks. Them, and also Midna’s own beast legion which casually ignored everything going on on the battlefield, moving through it like a ghost, claws scything down anything that was in reach like it was a reaper amidst the wheat. If only it could get more than a few meters form Midna, she’d have happily let it play her part in this entirely.

As it stood, it and others struck down the first wave of minions, bringing an end to the storm and a reprieve to those most vulnerable to them… just in time for her flygon to have to earth another chain lightning strike. Already sluggish, wilting, and panting with pain, Midna could see as she hid behind it that it would not be able to protect her from many more strikes, and another surprise ice storm would be its end.

So, upon seeing Z casually sumon a replacement wave of Zeustrikes, she let it flee back to the twilight realm, leaving her alone, frostbitten, holding an empty shotgun and practically cowering behind her shield while her mind stumbled over what to even do to help or fight.

Seeing this, Goldlewis knit his brow together in concern, his teeth gritted. He could read body language just fine, but he reached out anyway. "Hey, Midna! You hangin' in there, cowgirl?"

Had she been herself, she might have insisted everything was fine, but a pileup of her inherited malusis caused the dam to break as she admitted “No! I can’t see shit, I can't feel my toes, and my heart’s trying to rip itself out of my chest in fear!” on the open coms for all to hear.

In that moment, she might have learned something. About reaching out. About asking for help, as spot healing from Sandalphon, a defensive boost from Zenkichi and a hand to rise from Goldlewis helping her get back on her feet. Then the shield came flying and everything she’d been given was washed away.

Midna’s stress went right back to the roof as a bolt of lightning came flying in after the shield, coming face to face ⅔ of the causes of Urbosa’s death, fear leaving her far too slow to try and get out of the way of what came next. The lightning slammed into the shield, causing an electrical denotation that threw Midna back to the floor. Then, with no flygon to ground it, the chain lighting arched onwards, pulsing between those that had helped her and then the princess herself, prompting Jolted to trigger, bringing down a third bolt down on her location.

It was here where she found out what the extra damage that hadn’t been resisted by her flygon was as she tried and failed to push herself up off the ground with strength-less arms, and saw her own skin. Unnatural paleness suffused it, the tan skin she’d gained from several fusions gone as that dreadful familiar sight from her lowest moment starred her straight in the face. The moment where she herself had almost died, exposed to the divine Light Spirit’s radiance by a spiteful Zant.

If there was any doubt about Z’s claim of divinity, it was washed away by this and this alone. Even as the color returned to her skin, the Light spirits’ later blessing of her and Zenkichi's boost having turned what would have been a dead nail to simply a devastating strike, Midna’s spirit was broken. She was worthless in this fight, and if she stayed in it she was going to die, be it from frost, light, or a heart attack.

So, with a weak tug on her astral chain, she brought her beast legion running over to her, where it promptly grabbed her by her collar, threw her over its back, and then started running for the entrance of the ship, a defeated Midna slumped over its back.

Well, Sectonia wasn't fully expecting this line of events, but it made things easier. She'd have to clean and pretty up the guys if they were going to be here and in her company, although a few of them might need some weird fashion. Still, before she did that, Sectonia had to make herself presentable. Sure she was... ok, but there were just things you can't do out in the wild. She had to get her hair all cleaned up form all the fusions, and decide what armor pieces of this gem thing she wanted to keep and if she needed to change a bit of her accessories to match up with her new look.

With that, Sectonia made her way to the service portion of the town. Good thing about a town of all women, or was all woman, it wasn't difficult finding a place to beautify herself nor products to do this on the road. She had an extravagant camping set, might as well get a set of tools to keep up her appearance that'll change from time to time. Although styling herself would take some time, at least she had the space for it.

With that in mind, Sectonia spent her time getting her fluff all fixed, getting that 'tatoo' she hid under her crown covered up with something more permanent, and just overall getting herself prettied up. Granted it took some time for all of this, as she was still a tad smaller than she normally was, she was still quite large compared to their average clientele, and her more... exact and demanding requests didn't make life easy for the stylists.

After what seemed like an hour, Sectonia was all fixed up. She decided to discard and sell a couple pieces of the armor her fusion with the knight woman she found in the prison. Mostly pieces that interfered with people seeing her face or her spellcasting. She still kept the breastplate and shoulderpads though, having a much more fancy breastplate than she had before. Granted that money went right back into her stylists, but hey, thats just how it went.

While getting herself sorted material wise, she heard Ganondorf report on the placement of the flame clock. Interesting, she'd have to go give that a look, since at this moment she had yet to see such an item. But that was after everyone got a bath.

After all of Z’s fanfare, the battle was on. From the outside, divorced from its context, this fight might look like a cinch. The Seekers, fresh from a victory against an alphabetically adjacent Consul and the Guardian he was supposed to protect, stood united against a single foe. Even the addition of a Zeustrike mob shouldn’t have moved the scales all that much. Unfortunately, Sandalphon could not bring herself to give her team the vote of confidence. With her allies worn out from their efforts this morning and only barely starting to recover thanks to the few hours they spent in Everdream Valley, this battle against Z was much too soon. Though finding the Virgin Victory seemed like a lucky break at first, running into the Consul who’d evidently been tailing it turned that rare blessing on its head, and failing to escape him put the airship -and all of its occupants- in a precarious position indeed. From the moment Z cast his first bolt, Sandalphon had realized his intentions. This wasn’t a question of whether or not the Seekers could beat him; it was a question of whether or not they could beat him before the Lord of Lightning knocked them out of the sky.

Such a thing was easier said than done. The heroes, spurred on by the self-evident risk of their current situation, came out swinging. Everyone who wanted a piece of Z quickly found out that they ignored the Zeustrikes at their peril. Their Energy Shots were near-instant beams of lightning, while their Thunder Blasts strike with electricity followed by wallops of air. Energy Waves, icy Blizzards, and buffeting Hurricanes, while more rare thanks to their greater MP demands, could hit multiple Seekers at once. If given half a chance, they could buff themselves with Raise Arms or Dodge as well, or sacrifice some HP to create a Lightning Wall that could soak three non-reactive hits apiece. Still, the Zeustrikes were ultimately the easier targets. Roland could build up his Emotion levels by fighting them, Geralt hunted them down, and Roxas diverted their attention while speeding around.

The real problem, of course, was Z, and despite Pit’s remarks, his ride alone gave him a tremendous advantage. Perched atop his airborne chariot, Z circled the Virgin Victory at a comfortable distance, interfering with the fight as he pleased. This distance plus the speed with which he moved through the stormy skies made hitting him almost impossible even with bullets, let alone slower projectiles, and with the atmospheric conditions plus the shaking of the Virgin Victory in play, preternatural levels of accuracy were required. Though Fortune managed to charge up her railgun in safety thanks to the cubes placed by Roxas, his strategy ended in disappointment when her shot failed to connect, missing Z by a good 10 feet. Zenkichi’s shots faced similar issues. Projectiles that homed like Pit’s light arrows and the Flygon’s cactus spikes fared a little better, but if they lacked the speed to keep up with the Consul they could get swept away in the storm. Sandalphon tried sniping the Consul several times with the Eye of Sol, but even with her inhuman powers of mental calculation she found it prohibitively hard to land her shots. Only by tuning out the fight against the Zeustrikes completely could she attain the necessary focus, but that meant abandoning her role as support.

Instead the archangel shifted between follow-up shots and healing miracles, patching her allies up when the shields provided by Goldlewis broke down. After all, Z didn’t just let the Seekers shoot at him. He seemed to take every attempt to hit him as a personal challenge, and happily answered in kind. Once Susie’s magicrystal got his attention, Z destroyed the missiles that the robot sent his way, even after the static discharges in the atmosphere detonated a few prematurely. He sent chain lightning bouncing among his enemies, using his Aegis shield to make up for any breaks in the chain, then dutifully detonated each one. While Blazermate, Zenkichi, and Sandalphon herself could cleanse the Charge and Jolted statuses he inflicted, Z could dish them out a lot faster, to the point where even if Blazermate forsook healing entirely she still couldn’t keep up. Besides, Charge only lasted a few seconds, and her teammates scarcely stopped attacking to wait for a cleanse. Compared to dealing with everything the Consul could dish out, fighting the Zeustrikes sounded pretty good, even if that alone wouldn’t land the heroes a win here. All the while, Z saved his heaviest bolts for the Virgin Victory itself, pounding the ship again and again with lightning to bring it closer and closer to destruction.

One big problem throughout was communication. Between the chaos of fighting in a live thunderstorm and the roaring wind, it was difficult to request help or follow-up attacks even for those inclined to do so, with or without Sandalphon’s group call. Almost none of the Seekers said much of anything, and even those that did mostly just remarked on the state of things.

The battle came to a head when Z, perturbed by the mounting losses among his Zeustrikes, kicked off some teamwork of his own. “IRON FILINGS!” he yelled down as he passed overhead. “THEN LET ‘EM HAVE IT!” At his command, the lightning beasts started using a certain status move. It applied the Conducted debuff to their targets for a whopping thirty seconds, causing every electric attack in the fight to deal an additional jolt of flat damage. Then the Zeustrikes began to spam their lowest-cost attacks, Spit and Energy Bolt, to push the amount of electric attacks in play through the roof. Within seconds everyone present was in a state of constant shock, quickly chewing through a fresh round of shields from Goldlewis and forcing Sandalphon to use both Angelic Praise and Angelic Wings.

Both realized right away that this couldn’t be allowed to continue. “This ain’t workin’!” Goldlewis howled, gritting his teeth. Figuring that Pit had the lowest health among his allies, he used his Shield Charger to grant the angel a tough barrier to keep him standing for a little longer. Not even he could take this passive electrocution forever, though. Midna had already fled with an injured Asbestos covering her retreat, and it wouldn’t be long before more of them couldn’t keep on fighting. “We gotta get outta this storm!”

Sandalphon nodded, her expression neutral but her pupils in the form of stress marks. “Commander, we’re suffering up here. Is there any way we can escape from this situation?”

Clearly, this was not the news that Commander Nelson had been hoping to hear. “Perhaps. The Virgin Victory cannot take much more of this. Our best bet may be to ascend through the cloud layer to clear skies. We can close the upper deck to shield you from the storm as we do.”

Without hesitation, Goldlewis agreed. “Do it, now!”

“Okay,” Alice MacGregor replied calmly. “Can you give us an opening? If he destroys the shielding, we’re through.”

Sandalphon narrowed her eyes. “Affirmative.”

As Z flew in for another electric bombing run, the archangel conjured a laser targeting device, then used it to indicate the deck ahead of him. At the same time, Goldlewis reached up a hand and activated his goggles, shooting a red laser pointer in the same spot. A moment later, his Burn It Down and her Headquarter Support Request activated simultaneously, bombarding the upper deck with a napalm cluster bomb and a heavy blue satellite laser that tracked the Consul’s path. Together the two forced Z to veer away from the Virgin Victory, damaging both him and his Zeustrikes in the process.

Without a moment to lose, the shielding slid up from both sides of the upper deck and slammed shut overhead, separating the Seekers from both Z and the storm. Then the Virgin Victory began to ascend, pushing up through the stormclouds. As the team finished off the Zeustrikes sealed inside, lightning bolts battered the ship from all sides, rocking the boat back and forth as the lights flickered. Stress levels went through the roof as the turbulence increased, threatening to rip the Virgin Victory apart any second. Finally, after a tense few seconds, the ship burst through the clouds. The shaking subsided, and when the shielding fell away the Seekers could see nothing but clear blue skies above a sea of clouds, a vista of staggering vastness and beauty. Goldlewis breathed a sigh of relief, but neither he nor Sandalphon could rest easy. “Look sharp, folks,” he advised the team. I got a feelin’ this ain’t over yet.”

“We’ve taken heavy damage,” Alice reported. “Our best bet is to get as far away as possible, land, and begin repairs immediately.”

The Commander groaned. “Agreed, full speed ahead. Charting a course for-”

A ball of lightning exploded up through the clouds, and after brushing away the snow-white fluff their pursuer made himself known. “DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU’D GET AWAY?” he thundered. “YOU’RE IN MY WORLD NOW. YOU’VE ONLY GIVEN YOURSELF FARTHER TO FALL!”

He pulled up on the ship’s port side, lifted his hand, and conjured his most massive thunderbolt yet, a spear of lightning as long as his chariot. Before throwing it, however, he paused, seemingly staring at the Virgin Victory. After a moment, Sandalphon followed his gaze to the ship’s starboard side, where she saw a disturbance among the clouds. They were being kicked up, like dust behind a sprinter, or water behind a boat. Something else, she realized, must be pushing up from underneath–something obscenely huge. As far as she could tell from her limited perspective, something was displacing the clouds as it rose upward, but she couldn’t tell what it was beyond some kind of big shimmer, an area slightly at odds with the background.

Then the unidentified flying object uncloaked.

It was a massive ship, much bigger than the Virgin Victory. Four huge tilted turbines kept it aloft as it lifted higher, capturing the smaller airship entirely with its shadow. Its armor looked heavy, forged from space-age alloys with cutting-edge technology. Unlike the Seekers’ vessel, this one seemed to be made for in-atmosphere flight. Goldlewis stared with his mouth agape, practically shaking in his boots. Was this another enemy? Things were bad enough as is.

When he glanced over at Z, however, the Consul seemed similarly stunned. After a moment, Z clenched his jaw beneath his helmet, his eyes narrowed in an irritated sneer. “HMPH. SO YOU’VE FINALLY DECIDED TO SHOW YOUR FACES. THE LOST NUMBERS…”

The Lost Numbers? Sandalphon turned her gaze back toward the new ship. Whatever this interloper was, it seemed to be no friend to the Consul. This time, she noticed figures emerging from an exterior door high atop the ship. A handful of figures made their way out onto the ship’s surface, braced against the wind. Her keen eyes spied a surly-looking twenty-something in a blue coat and a scruffy man in his forties in a red one, both with white hair and a greatsword slung across their backs. At their heels followed three smartly-dressed demon women with white hair and eyes as red as their collared shirts. Finally, a third man followed them, somewhere in his mid-thirties, with messy black-blond hair and beard, sunglasses, and a flashy suit. He carried a bottle of electric yellow wine in one hand, and some sort of power seemed to be flowing from him to boost the others.

“Looks like you got the party started without me!” Dante called breezily as the wind whipped at his hair. He grinned at the Seekers. “But don’t worry, ‘cause we’re here to bring down the house. Ready, Cerberus?”

The triplets jumped onto him “Ready!” they chorused.

“Right, let’s go!” Dante summoned his greatsword, which immediately slammed into his chest. His body exploded into flame, transforming into a huge, six-winged, four-horned demon of craggy brimstone skin atop a molten core, with Cerberus still clinging to him, unbothered. The sight of such a strong demon made Sandalphon cringe, but if she’d clocked this newcomer correctly, he might just be the team’s saving grace. With a beat of his wings Dante took flight, soaring from the new ship toward Z. Nero blasted off his own prosthetic arm, turning it into a missile he then jumped on to ride it like a surfboard through the sky.

Having already realized what was about to happen, the Consul let loose everything he had. He unleashed a bombardment of lightning javelins like the arrows of an entire army. Dante hurtled through the storm, soaking it all up, and closed the distance. Taking his namesake sword in both hands, he brought it down on Z’s Aegis shield in an impact that rang across the sky like the bell Jondo. It stunned them both, but as Dante reeled backward, Cerberus took action. “Woohoo!” The three springboarded off him, manifested elemental weapons as they ran down the backs of Z’s Ixion steeds to attack him directly. Striking in perfect sync, they got in a handful of hits before the Consul composed himself and blasted them back with a burst of electricity.

“Augh!” As they faltered, Dante reached out his hand, and the three fused into a pair of massive nunchucks, with one head apiece of fire, lightning, and ice. The devil grabbed the lightning head and twisted around, whacking Z’s head with the other two to set off a temperature shock. He staggered backward, almost falling from his chariot, then manifested and hurled a point-blank thunderbolt. It struck Dante in the chest, but as he fell back he tossed the nunchucks into the air. They turned back into Cerberus, and the triplets dropped into the Ixions, where they immediately started ripping throats. Their attack on his steeds incensed Z so much that he scarcely noticed Nero flying in over their heads.

“Eat this!” Nero performed a backflip, hurling his Punchline missile-arm straight into Z’s chest for a taste of his own medicine. Before he could fall, he shot out his wire snatch to grapple onto the left arm of Dante, who’d just resummoned his sword to finish off what Cerberus started. The three jumped onto him again, and with one mighty cleave apiece, he dispatched the Ixions, and in karmic reversal of fortune the Consul’s chariot began to fall.

Of course, Z just took flight himself, crackling with electricity as he floated in the sky. Even still, he sounded plenty mad. “Damn you!” he growled. The next second a sunlight thunderbolt slammed into Dante, its holy might dealing heavy damage. With a pained grunt, Dante whirled around, whipping Nero toward Z as his nephew dangled from his arm.

The line caught Z mid shield toss, and Nero’s momentum sent him spinning around the Consul, pinning his arms to his sides as he got wrapped up. When he ran out of slack, Nero grabbed hold of Z himself, then equipped an Overture arm that he promptly attached to Z’s helmet. “Get a grip!” With a smirk he kicked off. “See you next fall!” He used Air Hike to reach Dante, and after grabbing hold, he pulled out the Blue Rose. Hanging on beside him, Cerberus pulled out a trio of pistols of their own.

Dante’s demonic face seemed to smile. “Jackpot!”

His hangers-on pulled their triggers, blasting the Exploder that Nero had placed. The huge explosion knocked Z from the sky, sending him into freefall. The Consul glared upward as he fell, considering his options, then scoffed. “Hmph.” He twisted around to face downward as he disappeared into the clouds.

As much as he wanted to soak in the Seekers’ admiration, Dante had to hustle back toward the ship that brought him. “Gotta dip for now, so if you want an autograph, you better hustle!” Once he and the others reached their ride, it peeled away, headed toward the now-visible edge of the stormcloud expanse.

“...Well then,” Commander Nelson's voice reached the Seekers through Sandalphon’s group call. “I suppose we should follow them.”

---

Only once both ships settled down in the middle of nowhere, somewhere on the dusty, arid peninsula between Gutsford and the Satisfactory Industrial Zone, could Goldlewis, Sandalphon, and the others really begin to appreciate the sheer size of the massive ship that had come to their aid. It was like a floating fortress, beefier even than Rufus Shinra’s immense helicopter, and after seeing Dante there was no telling who might be inside. Curiosity came hand in hand with gratitude to the Seekers, after all. With the loss of Alcamoth, it seemed like the away teams were all alone in the world, and yet unexpected allies had come to their rescue. The faces of the heroes’ rescuers might be unknown to Goldlewis and Sandalphon, but at least one person on the team had met Dante and Nero before. At the same time, though, the inexplicable and rather drastic change in the legendary devil hunter’s appearance only begged further questions. Only one lay on everyone’s mind, however: just who were these Lost Numbers?

Eager to get their questions answered, the most curious team members left the Virgin Victory, trekked a short ways, and grouped up at the rear of the unknown vessel. After a brief delay, the huge bay doors swung down to settle in the dust, creating a ramp up into the belly of the best. A handful of people descended. Nero was there with a freshly-equipped Gerbera arm, exactly as Pit remembered him from their road trip together through the Paved Wilderness with Yuri and Banjo-Kazooie. Beside him strolled a very different Dante compared to the one Blazermate met in Redgraccoon City, still with those clingy dog girls hounding him.

There were also two complete strangers, including the down-and-out dandy Sandalphon spotted before, as well as a woman who bore obvious resemblance to him. Also in her mid-thirties, she was sturdily built, with a set of baggy black overalls over a white sports bra, and spiky black-blonde hair tied in a low ponytail. In sharp contrast to her counterpart’s bottle, the woman carried a huge black hammer on her back like it was nothing. Probably brother and sister, the two shared a distinctive eye color, a bright red-blue gradient. The more that Roxas, Pit, Susie, Blazermate, Geralt, Zenkichi, and Sandalphon looked, the more oddly familiar the siblings became. Neither bore any trace of Galeem’s influence.

That wasn’t all, though.

“Meh, meh, meh! Wait for Tora!”

A familiar furball bounced down the ramp after the others. With his stripy fur, big brown eyes, flapping wings and denim overalls (as well as him stating his own name) there could be no mistaking him. It was Tora, the gregarious Nopon engineer they left behind in Midgar the other day. When Geralt and Midna bid him farewell, there had been no trace of hope left in his lightless, crestfallen eyes. Yet now he seemed to be full of delightful energy, and it wasn’t hard to see why. Alongside him ran his other half, his indispensable companion, returned from the dead. She looked a little different, rather like a Vandelay robot mixed with YoRHa android thanks to her sleek robot parts and modern attire, but it was Poppi all the same.

“Friends!” Tora cried, already weeping tears of joy. “Meh, meh! Tora so, so happy to see everypon again!” He went around hugging everyone who’d let him, especially Roxas, Pit, and Blazermate. Poppi followed in his footsteps, shaking hands with gusto. Even Goldlewis got the chance to scoop both inventor and invention up in one big bear hug. He hadn’t gotten to know the two that well since Al Mamoon, but he did know two things: that neither deserved the bad hand dealt them, and that both deserved to be happy.

After greeting everyone, Tora stepped back and tried to compose himself. “Meh meh! Tora know everypon welcome her back already, but Tora want give Poppi proper introduction, meh!” Threatening to burst with happiness, he held his wings out toward his companion, and Poppi used her pleated skirt for a curtsy. “Now presenting Tora pride and joy: Poppi Quixotic Tutelar Perfect Artifice 2000, AKA Poppi QT-PA-2T!”

Poppi treated the Seekers of Light to her most joyful smile. “It Poppi’s pleasure to make -and remake- your acquaintance.”

With the dynamic duo having broken the ice, the woman put her gloved hands on her hips and gave a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you all made it,” she told the Seekers, her voice kind. “When that Consul engaged you, we feared for the worse.”

“Not all of us,” Dante grinned, nodding at the team. “I know you guys are the real deal. If only we'd had you on the homefront, eh?”

The woman shot him a look, then turned a gentler face back toward the Seekers. “So you know them already? Not me though, I’ll wager. I’m Dawn, and this is my baby brother Cirrus.” Her brother averted his gaze, his lips pursed in thinly-veiled annoyance. Smiling, Dawn gestured up at the ship. “This is the Avenger, and we -the Lost Numbers- are here to help.”



When she heard where she and Primrose would be meeting Sectonia, Nadia caught herself and doubled back. “I’ll catch up with you!” she called as she took off back the way she just came. “I better grab a bathing suit. Don’t wanna ruin these duds!” She jogged back down the street, passing and earning a curious glance from the hammer-wielding craftswoman on the way, then slipped back into Yuria’s shop. The seamstress looked surprised to see her client back so soon, but welcomed her gladly, especially when Nadia revealed why she came. It didn’t take long for the two to find the swimsuit that the feral liked best, and after forking over another 1300 zenny, Nadia walked out with a ruffled mint-green two-piece stuffed in one of her pouches.

From there, Nadia hustled through the side street a third time, passing up a couple stores and hole-in-the-wall eateries only with great reluctance. A bar called the Noble Canteen, with a distinctive bottle statue inlaid with blue mosaic tiles, almost convinced her to stop, but she kept going. She rounded its corner and emerged into the wide-open Gerudo Town bazaar, where she took a moment to orient herself. Broadly speaking, this bustling marketplace occupied the desert settlement’s center, with Lady Riju’s grand palace plus the barracks of the city guard to the east, opposite the main entrance to the west, where those beefy sand seals were stabled. Evidently her destination lay to the palace’s north, in Gerudo Town’s northeastern quadrant. With no visible path around the palace itself she’d need to circle around a bit, but that’d hardly be a problem.

The real issue hit her when her eyes fell on the bazaar’s food carts, and she found herself unable to move on. It was well past lunchtime at this point, as her rumbling stomach reminded her; she’d been so focused on purr-loining from the Nyakuza in the Metro that she missed her chance to try out the countless food carts. The fact that the food here turned out to be incredibly aromatic. Tandoori roast chicken, gilded tajine, biryani, samosas…all fragrant with mouth-watering herbs and spices. As she watched a Gerudo shopkeeper expertly shaving meat from a vertical skewer to use as shawarma in a flatbread wrap, Nadia realized she was actually drooling. “Alright, alright already,” she muttered to her stomach, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Within moments the feral had purchased some pita pockets laden with crunchy vegetables and flavorful lamb, perfectly complemented by cucumber yogurt sauce. “Alright, pita pocket. You’ve done me a great disservice by tempting me so. Time to ‘meat’ out justice!” When she bit in, the combination left Nadia stunned, wondering how in the world someone so ordinary could be so good. With very little dignity, the feral wolfed down the rest. Then she headed north at a brisk jog to make up for lost time, smacking her lips all the while.

Her trip brought her out of the town’s more commercial, cultural center and into its residential zones. After a couple minutes she could go no farther, as the road stopped short in a T-junction at the edge of a massive pit. If Nadia expected to see sparkling pools of water down there, she was mistaken. Instead she beheld the glitter of gold, almost blindingly bright in the afternoon sun, and after a moment she realized that within the pit lay an elaborate Egyptian temple half-buried in dunes of what could only be gold dust. The sight left her in awe, not to mention confused. What could possibly convince people to destroy their riches like that? Some kind of tithe? “Jeez, what a waste. If someone ground up my gold, I’d start a rebullion.”

Shaking her head in dismay, Nadia turned and headed east. As she passed by various buildings, she scoped out each one, searching for Primrose or Sectonia as she tried to figure out which one was the bathhouse. None fit the bill though, and pretty soon the feral wound up at the end of the street in front of a huge, elaborate structure, easily the second-biggest building in Gerudo Town after the palace. When she studied it with brow raised, however, she came to a sudden realization. “‘Bath of Tefnut?’ Wait. This is it? No way!” Eager to be proven wrong, she raced inside.



Once she made her way through the parlor, itself a rather elaborate affair of impressive stonework, the interior took her breath away. In front of her sprawled an immense natatorium of such lavishness and beauty that to call it a mere ‘swimming pool’ would be a gross understatement. It was nothing less than a work of art, a seamless and gorgeous integration of nature and tradition with ingenious design. From atrium-style glass panels in the vaulted ceiling high above, natural light streamed down on a fringe of tropical greenery that lined what must be a hidden perimeter aqueduct, for water streamed down in perfect curtains past the immense, stoic statues of towel-clad Egyptian gods and into a pool of spectacular enormity. Its waters seemed to glow from within, suggesting some sort of illumination below, but except for that and the glow from incense-filled braziers no artificial light could be found anywhere. Everywhere Nadia looked, she found more impressive decor, from the colorfully-inscribed pillars and obelisks to the luxurious cushions and recliners. And an ancient boat, just hanging above the waters, why not?

“Jeez. Whoever built this place must’ve really pooled their resources.”

After chuckling to herself. Nadia took a deep breath in and out. Despite all the guests throughout the Bath of Tefnut, everything was calm and peaceful. After half a day spent traipsing around the treacherous Chasm, the vast and varied Underground, and cities at the continent’s extremes, it seemed like she’d arrived at paradise. It was finally time to relax.

After finding the others, Nadia quickly got changed, then neatly piled her outfit, rigging pack, and other items at a chosen deck chair. Then the two-tailed feral slid into the pleasantly warm water, eliciting a happy sigh. “I’m home.”

Midna, slumped atop her invisible to others steed, retreated in shame onto the command deck of the Virgin Victory. It was a prelude to the bad news the commander received only moments later, the still panting in fearful breathless princess pulling herself onto a chair just in time for him to get the call about how bad things were outside.

The next few moments where a rollercoaster of emotions, which did nothing to help Midna’s mental state as the relief escape turned to the despair of being caught, turned to the astonishment, awe, and a feeling of impotence as surprise reinforcements arrived and Dante saw off Z with only a bit of help from the three Cerberus ladies.

That should have been the end of it, but the war still raged within Midna as her body refused to calm down. The brush with death, reminder of her near end, memories of the dream of a Consul striking her down and Urbosa’s actual death all swirled around with the pain of her wounds to keep the adrenaline pumping when it was no longer needed.

Once the excitement subsided, giving way to a mercifully uneventful cruise through clear skies in pursuit of the unknown airship, a couple minutes passed before she became aware of heavy footsteps. Earlier in her adventure through the World of Light, before things got so complicated, she might have expected such footfalls to belong to Bowser, but right now only one member of her team fit the bill. After another moment, Goldlewis poked his head in. He kept his aged face neutral, each crease and wrinkle stern, but not unkind. The way he zeroed in on Midna immediately suggested that he’d been searching for her specifically.

“Howdy,” he grunted after a brief moment. “Figured I oughta check in. Looked like you were in a mighty bad way back there. Don’t wanna overbear or nothin’, but if there’s ever anythin’ ya need, just call me, y’hear?”

”I’m f-fine” she lied, before insisting ”This isn’t me, it’s that traitor’s fear, messing with my head. Her death, not mine, at the hands of …” and here she paused as things suddenly slotted together in her head. What, exactly, had killed Urbosa that now caused so much fear in her now; it was the very thing Midna had then killed her a second time for fighting alongside. The warrior had been killed, resurrected by Galeem and made to unknowingly fight alongside her murderer, only for Midna to come along and in her blind hatred of that man, end Urbosa's life again for a crime she had been made to commit.

”Is this why it's so bad? As punishment for killing her?” she asked reality, asked her soul, before letting out a single sob of a laugh and then slumping, defeated as she declared ”Then I guess I deserve it”

Goldlewis couldn’t speak to what Midna had done, or what she did or didn’t deserve, but he could offer her the same practical advice that he gave Geralt. “What’s done is done, for better or worse. But even if you made a real bad mistake somehow, that don’t mean you can try and make it better. You could try fusin’ with spirits who’re liable to undo your problems.” He paused, thinking. The princess’s irrational fears were a tougher nut to crack than Geralt’s rage. “Or, we could try an’ find a way to defuse you. It’d be worth it to have to back in top condition.” He shrugged, a kind smile manifesting itself on his face. “And to make sure you feel at peace with yourself again. Whaddya think?”

”Maybe, but this” she flexed a hand, causing electricity to spark around it briefly ”is too useful. Besides, Peach isn’t here or herself, and I’m not sure what possible fusion could stop me being deathly afraid of swords, shields, and electricity.”

To that, the veteran couldn’t offer much of a response. Midna’s decisions were hers to make, and her problems were hers to solve. Though he knew he wouldn’t be much help from the outset, as long as Midna knew he had her back, Goldlewis had done his job. He gave her a sympathetic nod, then jabbed a thumb at the door. “Wanna come back up top? The fresh air up here sure does a body good.”

The princess gave the smallest of flinches at the prospect of going back out there, but the danger was over, and so she nodded. She slipped out of the chair, cringed in pain from her untreated wounds, and then mounted back up on her Beast Legion so she could be carried out into the fresh air. It did help, exposed to clean air and a sky free from the storm, though the unobstructed light still made her squint her eyes to protect them. Nothing was perfect.

Well, other than the reliable and effortless healing magic they had access to in spades anyway. Upon spotting the princess and her still wounded condition, Sandalphon casually began to twirl her lance around to bombard her with explosive healing bombs, the angel’s face a complete deadpan as she performed this acrobatic act of aid.

Being noticed like that did make her feel a bit self conscious about having run off while the others were fighting, but Goldlewis’ concern checking in on her, and returning alongside her, made that feeling far less prominent than it otherwise would have been. It also had her thinking more about how she could work around her flaws rather than wallowing in her own fear and remorse.

It was in that state of mind that something rather simple clicked, as, once she was healed, she summoned her Flygon to receive the same treatment, and in doing so reflected on two simple facts. It was immune to electricity. She had a flygon spirit inside of her. She should be able to get that same resistance, yet the question was, how? What, exactly, caused spirits to manifest new power?

It was something to mull over.

At any rate, air and a healed body didn’t exactly wipe away her bad mood, but it did at least perk her up enough to offer a quiet thanks to Goldlewis for his kindness.

Soon after that, they touched down, and were met with an unexpected but most certainly welcome reunion. Incredibly welcome even, given that it resulted in getting hugged by Tora, which was not at all a thing Midna had realized she had needed till she received it, which left her a little stunned. She awkwardly and then enthusiastically shook Poppi’s hand, and then smiled as the pair got scooped up into a bearhug by Goldlewis.

The big man’s heart was very much built to scale, she felt.

With others more familiar with the pair and what had occurred to the mechanical member of the duo closing in for a reunion, she left it to them to find out how the miracle of her return had gone down. She instead had something she had to say to the ‘Lost Numbers’

”Thank you, for your intervention, that was, well, a very bad situation we were in. If you hadn’t jumped in when you did…” she said, trailing off when it came to what their fate might have been. Rather than stick on that point, she pushed forwards with questions instead, such as ”You called yourselves the Lost Numbers? Are you survivors from Alcamoth or-?” or had they not been alone after all in their freedom?

Dawn crossed her arms. “Some of us.” She nodded at Dante and Cerberus. Now that the questionnaire had started, the triplets had wandered off to check out some of the local wildlife spooked by the Avenger’s descent. “As you might expect, everything’s riding on our ship here to keep us afloat, so we usually keep our distance. But the attack on Alcamoth wasn’t exactly low-profile. We swooped in just after Moebius left to lick their wounds. We found Dante, Cerberus, and a few others in the water. When we found out that the rest of the survivors escaped to Markarth, we headed there too.”

“Most of us aren’t from there, though,” Cirrus piped up, getting to the point. “We’re what you might call ‘citizens of the world’, eh? That being the World of Light.”

While she wanted to ask more about who they were and where they’d come from, what was more important right this moment was Midna quietly asking ”How, how bad was it? How few are left?”

Her question troubled Dawn, and she found herself unable to answer. Both Tora and Poppi changed gears in an instant, their joy of reunion replaced by fear and horror. Evidently they knew even less than the Seekers did, despite arriving alongside the Lost Numbers.

Cirrus breathed in through his nose. Compared to his sister, the man looked a lot more downcast in general, like someone going through an interminable rough period with the aid of copious amounts of alcohol. His disheveled hair and gaudy, cheap-looking suit certainly didn’t help the impression. At the same time, though, his cynicism empowered him to say what needed to be said. “A couple dozen. Maybe…thirty?” He gave a mirthless chuckle through his nose. “But don’t worry, the rest’ll be back. Sooner or later.”

“Cirrus,” his sister hissed through her teeth, her face clouded.

A shocked hand went to Midna’s mouth, before being slowly pulled down it in a claw like fashion as she came to grips with just how bad it had been. An entire city, reduced to a mere 30 souls ”That… I knew it would be… how could we…” she tried and failed to enunciate her feelings on this, before blinking in confusion and asking Cirrus ”What?” in regards to his last comment.

He blinked back at her. “What?”

“Nothing you need to worry about right now,” Dawn protested, giving her brother an indignant push. “I’m sorry for your loss. Really. This world is infinitely cruel, but losing people never gets easier.”

At that, Cirrus sighed, staring at the ground.

”I…” Midna began, floundering as to what to do with that strange exchange, and then switched tracks to the other key question, which was ”Who are you? The Lost Numbers?”

Dawn glanced at her brother, but he avoided her gaze. She shook her head as if to say guess it’s up to me. She looked over the gathered Seekers and Centennials. “We’re…we’re new life,” she said simply. “People without records in the Source Engine. We were born in this World of Light itself, the children and grandchildren of people like you, stolen from your own worlds. Who managed to find love in what little time they had.”

As Goldlewis stroked his whiskers, thinking, Sandalphon nodded. As always, the archangel was lightyears ahead. “That explains the vague familiarity I feel seeing you both, at least in part. Particularly you, Ms. Dawn. The resemblance is certainly there.” She knit her brow together slightly. “Yet…I very much struggle to conceive of how this could be. No pun intended. Unless…nobody ages in the World of Light…?”

“No, we do,” Dawn sighed wearily, holding a gloved hand up to her cheek. “Growing older all the time. As to how…well, it’s complicated. No need to get into the nitty-gritty just yet.”

”That all… raises so many questions” Midna said, rather redundantly, before agreeing ”But yes, let’s focus.” before asking ”That’s who you are, or what maybe, but why are you all together? What’s your, well, plan?” in an attempt to gauge what the organization's deal was.

At that point, Dante cut in with a smile. “Why, to take out Moebius, the Guardians, and Galeem, same as you guys.” He glanced at the siblings, then shrugged. “Course, it’s hard to do that when you’re on the run, living in fear of getting caught while trying to survive day to day.” He raised his eyebrows at the Seekers. “But now the Lost Numbers have some heavy hitters, eh? Maybe it’s time to take a stand.”

Dawn nodded, her face resolute. “We have ample resources. Now more than ever. With the loss of Alcamoth, you could use a new home base, right? And what better than one that can fly? Not to mention turn invisible.” She crossed her arms. “I said we’re here to help, and we are. We found those who didn’t want to fight places to live. It’s been a long time coming, but everyone here is ready to fight the good fight.”

The look of relief and hope was plain on Midna’s face was palpable as she let out a breath, and then said ”That is the first bit of good news I’ve heard all day”, before grinning toothily and adding ”and if you want some, we just took down a guardian in Midgar this morning, as well as one of the Consul’s watching over it. Y I think was their name or designation or what have you”

Her announcement seemed to surprise Cirrus, but Dawn looked energized. “That is good news!”

“Meh, meh! Good work everyone!” Tora congratulated the team. “Wish we were there to help. Maybe Tora and Poppi lend hand next time!”

His partner nodded. “Poppi look forward to it.”

”There’s plenty more to go, so you’ll get that chance, I’m sure” Midna replied, not nearly as Sordonic as she could have been with that statement because the lost numbers and their flying invisible fortress where exactly what they needed to get off of the back foot and get ahead of the now waking giants that were the Consuls. No more scrounging for transport, no more being hunted.

Things that had been looking down were now looking back up again.

Sectonia kept herself as clean as she could, but the bathhouse she was in was more for relaxing than anything. Still, she had some work to do with not only herself, but the others. And those others needed a lot more work than she did. Granted, with this being a place for only women, and that rule not being able to be overridden by Ganondorf, the bathhouse was only full of herself, Primrose, and Nadia. A relaxing change of pace, as these two kept themselves proper, or at least attempted to, or asked for her help when they couldn't manage it on their own.

Speaking of her companions, after the three got all settled in the relaxing bathhouse, Sectonia decided to try a little gossip. After all, it would work with her plans later on anyway, so why not? "So, I suppose Ganondorf at least knows how nobility works, although I'm surprised things went so smoothly. Do you girls think that he has a soft spot for his tribe? It seems that those in charge here only knew of him in fairy tales, besides one of them that knew him personally. And the way the others spoke of him, its as if he hasn't been around for centuries. No doubt a consequence of Galeem's interference, but also interesting knowing that he seems to have taken from both time and space."

Waiting for the other girls to give their opinions, Sectonia listened to their replies and after that, had an idea for a change of subject when the other two had discussed the situation as well. "On a more pressing matter, the boys are going to need a bit of sprucing up. While I don't have to worry about the two of you, I do think we'll need to give the guys a makeover. Do the two of you have any interesting fashion ideas for the boys?" Sectonia said, trying a bit of gossip and small talk. "While I doubt we can do anything to Ganondorf and having it stick, we do need to clean up Therion's hair and the koopa families... Everything. But I have a feeling short of volcanic flowers, frills and crystals wont match their styles."

"I have a few hairstyle ideas for Bowser and Therion, and a nice haircut for Rika, but other than that, figuring out what to give to the others... well lets hear what you two have."

Trudging through the vast, arid expanse that stretched out before him Osvald's journey was not going as planned. Sweat trickled down his forehead, soaking his clothes and making every step a battle against fatigue.

The scholar's chest stung from the heat and glistened with drops of sweat as he crested a dune, Osvald squinted against the relentless glare of the sun it's light and heat bearing down on him.

With the inner part of his forearm the scholar wiped his brow, breathing heavily he thought to himself fatalistically ‘I wonder if the heat is beginning to play tricks with my mind.’ pushing the rim of his thin spectacles up the bridge of his nose, Osvald descended the side of the dune catching a glimmer of a far off light shimmering like a mirage in the distance.

’Hm, the light is no illusion.’ the scholar's determined stride forward through the sand and loose rocks picked up, Osvald's worn leather boots sinking into the sand with each step.

“Oh…Good.” uttered the exhausted scholar.

The light indeed hadn't been a trick of the eye, but the light shining on the towns sheer sandstone walls carved out of the rock, Osvald heaving a great sigh of relief tired stumbled his way past the large open entrance after he sauntered past the couple guards, met by the lively sound of a busy bazaar filled with the sound of hawkers selling foodstuffs, tactiles and the like.

Gerudo and others alike - of all shapes and sizes, gave the disheveled looking traveler erelong glances of mixed degrees from suspicion to disgust at the man looking much like a vagabond with his clothing ragged and dirty. Osvald cared little of how others perceived him so long as it was of no importance or consequence.

’Now to find the others, it…Shouldn't be that difficult.’ considering that half of the Seeker's were not even remotely human nor very quiet Osvald considered finding them to not prove too difficult though where to start he knew not.

It was a relief when the Virgin Victory managed to escape above the storm clouds. That relief was very short lived, followed by a whirlwind of “Oh crap!” that was itself followed by a completely different iteration of “Oh crap!”. The first Oh Crap was when the Moebius emerged and it became clear that the ship was not going to get away from him in its current state. The second Oh Crap was when the other ship suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. No one had any idea if this was friend or foe, so there was no telling if the Seekers’ situation was improving or getting worse.

All fears were alleviated when the fighters who emerged all took on Z, meaning they were no friends of the Consul in question. All the better when they managed to route him and allow their collective escape. A few of the Seekers recognized Dante the triplets, although Roxas did not. But he then heard a voice that could easily have been a third Oh Crap, albeit a positive one in this context - as Tora came bounding out to join the others, and he wasn’t alone. Unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, Roxas also spotted the familiar form of Poppi accompanying him too!

”Tora! Poppi!” Roxas exclaimed with excitement as he pulled off his mask and clipped it to his hip. Hugs and reunions were had by all. For once, the Seekers actually did manage to catch a break after enduring a conga line of disaster after disaster. Needless to say, the fortune of Poppi’s return was very very welcomed. ”You did it, Tora! You saved her!” Roxas happily said to Tora, ”How'd you do it?”

"It thanks to Organization member, meh" Tora explained. "She retrieve Poppi spirit from valley of ruin. Friends all aware that spirits are data, yes? It seem like for artificial being like Poppi, experiences get written to spirit as well as memory. So after Tora make new body, Poppi spirit give everything needed to bring Poppi back!"

The answer gave Roxas a pause. The Organization did this? Knowing them there had to be some kind of strings attached. But frankly, he was too glad to see Poppi again to worry about that right now. If this was part of some scheme, they could cross that bridge when they got to it.

Poppi didn't know what to make of her situation herself, nor the frank discussion of her artificial nature, but she seemed every bit as grateful as Tora that things turned out for the better. "For me, it like dreamless sleep," she mentioned. "By now, whole experience in Valley of Ruin feel more like nightmare than reality. But now Poppi awake, and glad to be back."

”I’m glad you’re back, too.” Roxas told Poppi, ”Both of you!” And now, with the danger seemingly passed, Roxas figured it was safe to let Scamp out of his Poke Ball, and so that’s what he did. ”Come on back out, Scamp. You still haven’t met everyone yet.” The Yamper appeared out of the Ball’s light and barked its usual cry of “bow-wark!” then scampered around in circles, clearly energetic and excited by all the new faces around.

The happy reunions also came with some serious talk. Mostly about Alcamoth, as Midna asked about it once she returned from inside the ship. In addition she also inquired about the strangers who were accompanying Dante - the Lost Numbers, as they called themselves. And they’re explanation honestly left Roxas wondering something, a question he was certain was on everybody’s mind in some shape or form. Or if it wasn’t then his pointing it out would certainly pique people’s curiosity.

”Wait, but… if you were born here in Galeem’s world,” Roxas spoke up, unable to keep himself from asking this, ”then what happens to you when this is all over?”

Dawn and Cirrus exchanged a look, the latter wearing a sardonic expression that quickly got turned on Roxas. "Beats the hell out of me," the man told him. "Dawn here thinks we might get pulled into the world our parents came from. Of course, that wouldn't turn out well for those of us whose parents came from two different worlds, now would it?" He shrugged, his gaze listless. "Me, my bet's on ceasing to exist. But hey, what can you do."

His sister sighed, unable to sugarcoat the situation.

Their answer was… about what Roxas expected, and he looked down at his shoes. It was one thing to want to fight Galeem and put the worlds back how they were. But could he still do it if it meant some people had to disappear along with this world? Roxas was no stranger to being made to disappear in order to help another. He had to do it once himself. At the time he was angry about it, feeling like the choice was being made for him against his will - and he wondered if either Dawn and Cirrus were feeling the same.

”I’m… sorry.” Roxas finally said. ”I probably shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Well, safe to say none of the trio was expecting to be saved by a giant invisible ship. A ship with some actual tech from the looks of it which got Susie excited. And on top of that... "Tora! And you got Poppi back! I knew you would! And some survived from Alcamoth! Thats good to see! It was a tough city so... well yeah." Blazermate said, glad to see some familiar faces. Susie meanwhile took a look over Poppi as well, seeing exactly what Tora did. "Hm... I see that you remade Poppi using the androids under our 'guardian angel's command. Well, it seems to have worked so alls well."

Roland hadn't met any of these people, being a late arrival in the group, nor did he show any of Blazermate's familairity or shock. He did gather a bit from the exchanges going on though, and introduced himself to the rest at the very least. "Hello, names Roland. Previously a turk, once was a fixer, now... I guess I'm a washed up rebel now? Man, why has my life been such a whirlwind recently..." Roland said, rather gloomily. He then pipped up and said. "Well, I'll let you all get reacquainted and just take a breather from dealing with... whatever that thing was."

For the trio's questions, Midna asked most of them. Roland would wait for everyone to ask theirs before he asked his, as they might ask things better than he could in this situation. Roxas then asked the question Blazermate had, so Blazermate had no real questions. Susie meanwhile asked the question on her mind. "So where did this ship come from? And are you sure the tech is strong enough to deal with these Consuls? They have some... strange powers."

"Where did it...?" Cirrus looked confused, and a little derisive. "What does that matter?"

Dawn shook her head. "We're not planning to use it to fight Moebius. At least, not directly. It's our home after all. We'll use it to fly you guys around and keep the war effort supplied."

So, this was something they found is what Susie got from that reply. She should take a look over it and see what she could do to make it better then perhaps.

Roland's question was a simple one meanwhile. "So you were all born of this world, people age, all that stuff happens. My question, how are you all free of that light ball's power?"

"That's just it," Dawn replied to Roland. "We were born the natural way. The right way."

Cirrus quickly added on to that. "You all show up fully formed and under Galeem's control 'cause it makes you that way."

That lead to a lot more questions than answers for Roland, but he'd let it rest for now until he had more information. Although Roxas being sure that things would 'go to being normal' after all of this was something Roland didn't think would happen.

The Warlord now found himself back in the royal palace. After returning from Clair de Soleil, Ganondorf didn’t have much else planned for his stay in Gerudo Town. As such, he figured the remaining time was probably best spent resting and maybe washing the dirt and grime of the Under off of himself and his equipment. To that end he was told of the Bath of Tefnut but was also advised that it was a public bath and reserving it for private use on short notice was likely not going to be possible.

But that did not mean that Ganondorf was without a means of bathing. The Bath of Tefnut was the public bath in Gerudo Town, but the royal palace also possessed its own private bathing quarters within its walls. Normally it was reserved specifically for the Chief’s private use, but Lady Riju was willing to lend its use to the Gerudo King. And so that was where he now found himself, bathing in the hot waters of the Palace Bath. His armor and cloak were being washed and laundered in the meantime, while his weapons were currently being held in the guard barracks by Linore until Ganondorf was ready to go and pick them back up.

While he bathed, Ganondorf went back over what Asgore had said in his head. About the world having multiple iterations and the people inhabiting it living out multiple reincarnations. Of course, the land he hailed from was no stranger to beliefs involving reincarnation. Even the prophesied Hero of Time was said in some legends to merely be the reincarnation of an ancient Hero hailing from an order of knights that lived in a monastery in the sky. The actual validity of those legends were still in question, but the point was, Asgore’s words about people simply reincarnating may not have been as utterly foolish as the Warlord had initially dismissed them as.

”Bah.” Ganondorf grunted in frustration, ”None of it makes a scrap of sense to me.” He muttered. As much as he hated having to admit when something was too puzzling for him, at least here he was alone in private where no one would actually hear him make such an admission. ”...Damnedable old goat.”

But after a bit longer, Ganondorf was informed that his armor and clothing were ready for him. As such, he exited the bath in order to dry off and redress himself. It certainly was nice to now be free of all the dust and muck of that accursed Under. Of course, he knew inevitably he would have to return if only to destroy the clocks located there. But even so, he imagined that wouldn’t be for a while yet, so he could enjoy the cleanliness for the time being.

“Lord Ganondorf.” one of the Gerudo Guards addressed him when he exited the bath quarters, “Lady Riju is preparing to have her afternoon lunch, and she requests that you join her. To discuss a few further details concerning the Consul and the situation with the Bandit Hordes, of course.”

”Of course.” Ganondorf answered, ”Let us not keep the Chief waiting then. You may lead the way.”

Normally Primrose might question the need of a suit for bathing, but Ms. Fortune had run off before she'd gotten the chance. She waved lightly at the feral's retreating back, then continued on her way.

She heard Ganondorf's voice in her ear soon afterward, noting his findings. Then she heard her family name come through the connection and she blinked in surprise. She didn't recall ever saying it aloud... only Therion was privy to it, or so she thought. She quickly recalled her friend's comment about using her full name to check into the hotel in the Home of Tears. Of course, Ganondorf had been there and checked in himself. He probably saw it there on the guest list.

The initial surprise meant that Primrose didn't respond to him right away. Now that it had passed a different, more pleasant surprise at the courteous way the King of Evil spoke settled in her instead. She chuckled to herself before replying through the pearl. "That seems wise. I'll find you at the palace later."

She continued on, passing through the area's main thoroughfare. The largest street in town was busy as expected, maybe even busier since the locals and travelers alike had something to gossip about now. Speaking of... Osvald was hard to miss in an environment like this. He seemed to be a little lost though, perhaps the heat had gotten to him. Only a little earlier, Therion had called in and mentioned the man would be heading to town. It seemed like he intended to stick with the group for a little longer at least. Primrose approached until Osvald caught sight of her too, then motioned him over to a more shaded area of the street.

"Here," she said, presenting him with a pale pink linkpearl of his own. "This is a magic earring that lets us communicate with each other more easily. If you've the mind to join up with us for the long term, you should have one."

She didn't expect it would take long for a scholar of magic to figure out how it worked. Once that was settled she excused herself, departing without much fanfare.

She made a beeline for the bathhouse, and once there she found that she was second to arrive. Thankfully, Queen Sectonia had such a unique silhouette that spotting her was easy, even in such a large space. She showed off her new outfit to the alien queen seeing as she was an appreciator of all things beautiful before going to get undressed. Making use of one of the bathhouse's many complimentary towels Primrose returned, slipped into the water, and hummed her approval. It felt heavenly, as she thought it would. Healing magic could only do so much, especially for fatigue, so this was just what she needed to rest and relax. When Nadia appeared Primrose greeted her warmly, and during the time she had changed into her two piece Primrose had let her hair down from its ponytail.

The dancer would have been content to just soak quietly in her companions' company. She had already slipped further into the bath, eyes closed and body relaxed with only her head above the water. Of course, she didn't mind a little chatting either, and when Sectonia started to gossip Primrose tipped her head to hide a small grin beneath the water. She found this part of the 'villainous, alien dictator' to be endearing.

"Who wouldn't be?" she said in reply to the comment about Ganondorf being soft for his tribe, pulling herself to sit up a little. The second comment she didn't reply to, as it was something she didn't even want to think about at the moment. The displacement, death and continuous revival, and everything else they'd heard from Asgore... which Primrose realized they hadn't exactly shared with the rest of the group. That said, the dancer herself wasn't about to do it now when they should be winding down from all that.

The next topic was more casual, though for the queen much more important it seemed.

"Hmmm..." Primrose hadn't put much if any thought about how anyone but herself looked. Aesthetically, anyway, especially given how fusion was likely to change one's wardrobe just as much as their physical looks. But now that it was brought up, it might be fun to think about.

Ganondorf already sported a suit of dark armor that suited him. The plumage of his helmet was a little archaic though. Rika was all but covered up in her light Agastya armor and helmet, at least giving her a cohesive look from the neck down. When her helmet was off she had shaggy short white hair and a pair of mismatched horns on her head. Out of the family of four, she was the easiest to think about as far as fashion went. Primrose hadn't a clue where to start for the three reptilians.

"I'm not sure," she said. But she didn't want to give Sectonia no opinion at all. After another moment of thought she said, "perhaps Ganondorf could be convinced to wear a shoulder capelet, something... classy. And a nice hat or hood, or even a ribbon might look good on Rika when she isn't wearing her helmet."

It was quite amazing what simple accessories could do to tie a look altogether, so that was what Primrose suggested. She communicated her lack of ideas about the actual Koopas though. Maybe getting rid of those shoulder tentacle things Bowser wore, and getting Kamek a nicer robe? If Sectonia went through with giving the boys a makeover, Primrose definitely wanted to see the outcome. She was sure the queen would have a field day with Osvald especially. As for the last subject on the list, the thought of Therion agreeing to any of this seemed unlikely, but it also deeply amused Primrose.

"I'm curious what your plans for Therion are. As long as I've known him, he's always had that... well, that messy mop that covered his eye. Now that his hair is parted, it looks strange. I'm sure whatever you're thinking will be an improvement."

And it was the privilege of close friends to be able to laugh at each other's mild misfortune, so she didn't feel bad at all when she gave the queen some advice about him. "...but seeing as I doubt he'll agree at first, just let him know its important to you when you ask again."

Sincere and earnest people were his weak point, given he had always been used to dealing with the opposite. Like herself, Therion was usually good about seeing through people, but considering that her allies looking good actually was important to Sectonia, the queen could probably get him to begrudgingly agree.

---

Still under the shade of a tree on the bank of the oasis, Therion sneezed. Since he wasn't allergic to anything (that he knew of) and there was hardly even a breeze, the superstitious thief figured someone must be talking about him. He sniffed, rolled his eyes, and got back to lounging.

It was really nice to finally have some peace and quiet. Since everyone else had gone into town, Therion was alone at the Kara Kara Bazaar. When the Seekers' business in Gerudo Town was settled, he'd just meet them at the metro entrance. Until then, the only thing he was getting up to was some relaxation himself. Well, technically some light thievery had already taken place, but he'd already eaten the evidence.

Therion yawned, stretching his arms out before refolding them beneath his poncho. In the back of his mind he knew the area wasn't completely safe, especially since Ganondorf had just called in to tell everyone he found a flame clock nearby. Whatever Consuls operated in the desert could return here at any time, or even a random monster could appear and attack, anything could happen really. Even so, after suffering through the Under the last couple of days on top of the harrowing morning they'd all had, complete with a not so restful sleep the night before, Therion felt like taking a nap. He considered taking his beast form for a truly comfortable sleep in the warm sand. Ultimately, he probably looked a lot less dangerous like this - a short guy in a shawl huddled under a tree - rather than as a big tiger.

Next town we stop in I'll see if I can sell some of these left over stones, He thought, at least trying not to nod off. Don't feel like taking my chances in this one. Wait... Fortune said something about a carnival, right? Town after that one, then. And I'll have to figure out what to do with the rest of this stuff too.

It was starting to get to the point where Therion felt he was getting close to his carrying capacity. Some things that he wore or otherwise carried around he could use that melding pot for, just to lessen the load a little. Other things, like the weapons he was starting to amass (his own short sword and dagger, the other nicer dagger he'd found, the pair of sickles Ganondorf had given him, his stock of throwing knives and crystal darts, and the valuable looking Yato) he needed another solution for. And that wasn't including the small shield he had and his new best friend: giant umbrella.

All the inventory thought reminded him of Tressa, and he idly wondered where she might be. Probably at a bazaar just like this one, if he had to guess. It also happened that the inventory thought wasn't actually helping him stay awake. Therion stifled another yawn and tucked into himself a little more. Fuck it, nap time it was. He was a light sleeper, so if something happened or someone spoke through the pearl again, he'd wake up. For now, might as well get a little more rest while he could.

As the battle raged on even harder, Geralt transformed into her Ardor Blossom form, knocking Zeustrikes out of the sky with fireballs, but taking more heat in return. Z punished each Zeustrike's demise with a bolt of lightning, and then simply summoned more. They couldn't be ignored, however, as they flitted around, hurting every Seeker they could land an attack on.

Zenkichi was doing his best to purge the statuses that Z and the Zeustrikes gave out, but his buffs were powerful and far apart, meaning that within a few seconds, whoever he managed to cleanse would likely be Charged and Jolted again. It was rough going, and once Midna's will broke and she retreated, things started to look even more bleak as Z commanded his minions to pepper the Seekers with shavings of iron, furthering increasing their electrical conductivity and rendering them more vulnerable to electric damage.

It was after this point that Sandalphon reached out to Commander Nelson, requesting a change of plan to escape. Sandalphon and Goldlewis unleashed powerful attacks, forcing Z off and heavily damaging the Zeustrikes, and defeating many of them outright. Geralt and Zenkichi filled the air with fireballs and bullets, Zenkichi sighing after his revolvers clicked empty, and Geralt relaxing with satisfaction after the last was destroyed, and the Virgin Victory's shields came up.

Geralt returned to her natural Identity, and Zenkichi let out a long sigh, shoulders slumping. He was just about depleted again, maybe having a few more Triple Downs or -kaja buffs in him. A Heat Riser or Megidola would probably wipe him out, though. Their relief was short lived, with Z bursting through the cloud cover in a completely expected manner, booming that they'd only made their inevitable crash-landing even worse. Zenkichi and Geralt locked eyes, nodded, and prepared for combat once more, before pausing to stare at the massive ship that appeared before the Virgin Victory.

Watching the absolute smackdown that occurred after the fighters burst from the new ship, Zenkichi laughed, hooted and hollered, completely confident that these daredevils had the fight, though Geralt watched with narrowed eyes. That almost looks like Dante, but certainly not the way I remember her. But those three girls are unmistakable as the ones Link freed from that Gaol. Silently, he smiled. That meant they'd know what happened to Yennefer. Good.

Not long after, the Virgin Victory landed and the Seekers disembarked near the Avenger. Akane was practically clinging to her father, who was more than willing to reassure his daughter. While their relationship was sometimes acerbic, the time they'd had to remember the mending that the Thieves had helped them do was easing the tension. It didn't hurt that he'd just risked his life to protect her, either.

When Tora came out of the Avenger, Poppi right at his side, Geralt had to pause. Knowing what she knew, it should have been possible, but...they'd mentioned that Poppi was lost in the Valley when the robots attacked. So...how did Tora get her Spirit back?

Zenkichi was just thrilled to learn that that doomed expedition had been just a little less terrible. Poppi wasn't the only casualty of that mission, but...well, he couldn't blame the others for celebrating having their friend back. It was a lot easier not to think about the people they'd known for a couple of hours, the mercs that had gone out with them. Even for him.

The matter of Poppi's Spirit was explained after a couple of questions by Roxas, and Geralt was...only somewhat surprised to hear about the help from the Organization. He knew Roxas didn't trust them, their leader in particular, but they'd been nothing but helpful so far, even if their help was not always practical in nature. Still, having Poppi, and by extension Tora, back was great.

"It's Geralt, by the way. Flirt with me at your own risk." She made sure to clarify, knowing that neither had seen her since her latest round of Fusions. Zenkichi gave a chuckle to that, though he had no idea just how far Tora's flirtatious ways went when it came to attractive women. Geralt might have had some weird stuff inside her at the moment, but the warning wasn't unwarranted.

The discussion surrounding their new allies, where they had come from, and the...ramifications of Galeem's defeat put a bit of a damper, on the mood, but Geralt looked to Dante, Cirrus, and Dawn, and stepped forward. "Where's Yennefer? On the ship, or did she have you drop her off somewhere?" The possibility that she didn't survive had not once occurred to Geralt, and to even entertain the notion would have felt like a betrayal.

With their mission completed, and their defensive mirror acquired, the troop ended up at something of a loss as to what to do with the rest of their time in town. A brief debate initiated, only to come to an almost immediate end when Bowser decided the answer was his favorite fallback: food.

Thus they made their way back to the market where they’d been trying to find mirrors, which caused a brief moment of exasperation from the merchants they’d previously harangued, and then sighs of relief when they saw the reflective tower shield now strapped to Bowser’s arm. Upon arriving, the King raised his snout to the wind, audibly sniffing loudly, and then declaring ”This way!” before following his nose to what he sought.

At the end of the scent trail they found a garudo women named Estan sitting before a collection of meats, some of which she was right in the midst of cooking for one of her customers, which had, quite obviously, been what had drawn the king’s attention.

The sight of a giant turtle salivating between his pointy teeth might have been a bit intimidating, and it certainly was to the customer, who made great haste in finishing her purchase, leaving Estan staring down the incoming Bowser without flinching.

Kamek then coughed, slipped ahead of his king and said to the shopkeep ”My apologies for his majesty, he gets like this when he’s hungry sometimes”

“Ah, not a problem. I once traveled all over, searching for the best meats ever, so I have seen plenty of people in all shapes and sizes, all of whom like some good meat” she replied, though the vegetarian koopa made a shrug of polite disagreement with her final point.

Bowser meanwhile declared ”No one more than me!” as he too arrived, before telling her to ”now show we what you’ve got”

“All sorts of stake, but for royalty? For you I’ve got a little supply of Gormet Steak, freshly cut from Great-Horned Rhinoceros hunted just to the east of here” she replied with mercantile guile, before reaching over, and unwrapping some paper covering just the most picturesque slab of meat on bone you ever did see. That certainly got Bowser’s mouth watering, prompting a smile from the shopkeep

“You like it, yes? Then I can cook you up 4 cutts, right here right now. Perfectly seared and spiced to perfection”

”3 only, I’ll pass-” Kamek said, only for Bowser to predictably adjusted the number it back up to ”4. I’ll take his”

Kameks sighed, and then asked ”how much ” to which she smoothly replied “600 total” bumping up her usual price on the spot, and just as she predicted Bowser quickly agreed ”Deal!”

Soon enough, the smell of high quality and even higher price meat filled the air, and then a bit after that the 3 royals of the troop where chowing down on the big hunks of flesh, while Kamek chowed down on a much more affordable roasted voltfruit, enjoying its intriguing mix of sweet and sour.

The question then was what to do next, and upon asking around about entertainment in town, they got directed round the back of it, where they caught sight of a familiar set of outcrops and an even more familiar signpost.

Kalimari desert wasn’t all the same however. For one, there were the walls of garudo town to its east, which sported a drawbridge of all things to let spectators up onto the central rock plateau. For two there were no karts to be seen, and instead they caught sight of the Garudo sand seal racing around the former go kart track.

For three, there was no sight of the train running along its track. Whether that was because of safety reasons, resource efficiency reasons, or simply a lack of knowledge as to how to run it, its absence was a disappointment to jr, why bemoaned that ”aww, but that was the only really good part of this one”, rather spoiled as he was by the eccentricities of the later developed tracks.

He came to regret those words.

Fast forwards through the rigmarole of getting the prince into a race (because obviously he wasn’t not going to join in with this) including bench pressing Rika to prove he could handle himself, trying and failing to get his ocean going seal-pokemon Dazzle to pull him through the sand, then resorting to having to use one of the regular sand seals like everyone else and thenshowing a surprising degree of skill during practice thanks to his sporting and minion training experience.

After all that was done however, the prince got right into racing across the sands, blasting off the starting line, taking a fairly skilled turn round the first wide corner, and then effortlessly having his sand seal leap over the first spot the railway tracks crossed over the track (as it couldn't exactly burrow under it and also tow him along).

”Hey, that was a pretty good feature even without the train!” Jr called out in compliment after he landed on the sands on the other side of the tracks, having ramped off them with the shield he was surfing on, thinking the way it had been turned into a test of skill of the towing seal was pretty neat. Strangely, one of the other riders called out “don’t jinx us!” in response to that comment, right in time for a whistle like a banshee’s wail to utter from the tunnel that went through the mountain.

”Huh? What’s going on? What’s up with the train it sounds weird” Bowser asked, the Koopa having been knocked flying by the old locomotive more times than he’d care to admit, only for one of the women to reply “Just a train? No no no, it’s a deadly demon and its soooo cooool!” with a great deal of ecstatic glee.

The surrounding spectators had a bit of a mix of reactions to this deceleration, some seeming very much in agreement, a mix of excitement and open bloodlust in their eyes, while others were disapproving, having come for a good clean race and grumbling about how it was both a stupid and unnecessarily dangerous addition to the track, much preferring the times it didn’t decided to show its face.

Down below them the whistling came to a fever pitch as an armored wartrain burst out of the tunnel, a mighty steam engine with gun turrets and bloodshot eyes attached to its armored form. It blazed across the first crossing, smashing into a racer and sending her body flying off into the desert, and unlike the mario karters, she was entirely unable to withstand that kind of collision. Despite being covered in gun turrets, and giving a delighted whistle upon track-killing one of the racers, it did not turn its many weapons upon the rest of them, instead seeming to act in function just like the mundane steam engine it was replacing, ‘merely’ with far deadlier consequences.

Both the elder koopas tensed at its appearance, but upon seeing it was following the ’rules’ of the old train, both were pretty sure the third koopa had the racing prowess to handle this.

”Show that choo choo chump who’s boss, kid!” Bowser called after his son in encouragement, while Kamek tutted that ”Someone should do something about this mess, it’s a bit much isn’t it?” not at all intending to do so himself. That kind of thing was a hero’s job after all. Focused as they were on the race, it took both of them much too long to notice that Rika had gone missing.

Below then, the train blasted across the second crossing, narrowly missing the middle of the pack of racers much to its chagrin, before slowing as it approached the spot where its track ran alongside the bottom right of the course. Its track’s shooter loop had let it do so ahead of those in first place despite its slowing, after which showed that it wasn’t quite going to stick to its predecessor’s rules as from its side multiple massive meters long chainsaws extended out over the track, forcing the racers to duck beneath them or be sliced in half.

The others had to do that anyway anyway. Jr was short enough to crouch just a little, much to his elder’s relief. That relief ended a few moments later after when they saw the figure of Rika leaping off of the plateau despite the cries of warning from (and more than one attempt to tackle her by) the other spectators, their cries joined by the two elder Koopas as she fired her grappling hook and latched onto the top of the train.

An eye atop the back of one of the turrets swiveled around to stare at her, first with surprise, then in rage as she charged it, and then not at all when she drove her chainsaw bayonet into it, prompting a whistling of pain from the train. Turrets on its back spun, trying to get a bead on the flee on its back, but the princess back flipped over their firing arcs, shots slowing around her as they failed to nail her, and then started unleashing blasts of electrical goop, rapidly coating its surface with damaging over time goop that also let her sail atop it.

In response to this vandalism carriage doors opened in one of the train’s carriages, and a pair of demons leapt atop its back, one armed with a scyth, and the other with a shotgun, both racing to engage the ticketless rider.

Despite being alone on its back, she wasn’t without support, as down below jr formed iron spears using his metal tattooed arm, the projectile's floating in the air around him for a moment before turning and launching themselves in a broadside at the demons going for Rika. The train one again whistled in outrage at this second interference, accelerating after Jr and then tipping to the side, one set wheels leaving the tracks as it tilted its chainsaw down such that the tips scythed into the ground, creating an incoming angled wall of death. It claimed the life of another racer, but jr used a barrage of his own flukefey strikers hitting him to give him the sideways momentum needed to still duck under the blades where they came out of the train, where the space was still wide enough to survive.

Up top, Rika parried a demonic scythe swing with her chainsaw bayonet, traded double barreled cannon fire with the other demon, and then called out ”what took you so long!” as Bowser came leaping in to join the fray. She wasn’t the only one to notice him however, as the train unleashed cannonfire upon the incoming king, only for it to slam into the reflective sheen of the mirror of lost battles as the king used it to block the shots.

The smoke from the blasts cleared a moment later, revealing the intact form of the king still falling towards them, the cracked exterior of the mirror, damaged but not broken, and, emerging from its reflections, a one eye’d witch. This illusionary witch leapt off the surface of the mirror as soon as she had formed, her twice as large as her wiring chainsaw sword primed to brutality exorcize the demon her true self had once bound into this train’s body in the first place.

With a sort of primal and wholly instinctive fear only someone as badass as Bayonetta could have instill, the train swerved, phantom tracks forming beneath its wheels as it rammed its way out of the confines of the mundane train track and blazed up into the sky, taking Rika with it. This swerve let it avoid Bowser, who impotently slammed down into the now empty tracks a moment later, however the copy of the train’s binder had no such issue, slamming it's massive blade into the plateau’s walls and using that to redirect it's momentum and just barely land on the back of the train.

Both demons immediately turned on the reflection, only for it to dodge out of the way of the scything blade, and for the stray shotgun pellet that hit it to simply pass straight through the illusion. It then slammed it's massive sword into the scythe wielding demon, causing it to stumble backwards and cry out in pain, despite both the impact and injury it inflicted being false, and the foe having been fooled into reacting as if it had been hit by a true attack.

Rika’s however were entirely real, the princess summoning her spear and impaling the hammered demon with a one handed strike, then driving a vault breaker into it, knocking it off both the spear and the train itself.

Fortunately for it, the demon could fly. Unfortunately for it, so could Kamek, who nailed it with a close range cosmic spray just after it halted its fall. The slow moving mage should have been a prime target for the train’s guns after drawing attention to himself, but the it was much too busy freaking out as Rika and the train demon’s binder dispatched its other minion together (with Rika, again, doing all the damage while the doppelganger took all the attention). In response it tried corkscrewing its tracks like rollercoasters, trying to tip both of them off with the resulting barrel roll, and then, when they started running around it in the opposite direction to its spin, flailing its chainsaws as obstructions, only for both women to duck, dive, and leap to avoid both sets and ending up right back on top of it.

Left with no other ideas, it then instead hard braked, launching both of them forwards off of it in the process. Rika responded by tapping her featherfall rune, launching herself up into the air and out of the way just in time for the train to let loose with a forwards facing cannon barrage that unleashed all of its ammo into the reflection of its binder. No amount of dodging or ¾ chances to ignore damage would get it out of all that fire power, as in the end a single insignificant fragment of shrapnel ended up being the thing ending the reflection’s existence.

Upon seeing her gone, the train demon revealed its hideoues face and began to laugh a the reflection’s demise, only for it stationary form to get nailed by a beam of concentrated sunlight blasting up from Bowser, the desert sun charged flash canon blast lancing out of his maw. Joining that shot was a blinding flash from the equally solar empowered Peeka, the photosynthesizing paradox pokemon blazing through the sky at the command of its trainer down below. Last but not least from the ranged firepower, Kamek hammer it in the face with a conjured magical fist.

Rika herself could not be ignored either, but rather than shoot at it the princess came buzzing right back into melee on the back of her Vespikan Ichor Queen. The giant wasp woman drove a mighty cleaver strike into the side of the train, at which point the princess leapt off its shoulders and right back onto the back of their foe. In response it craned its long neck up and around, trying to either bite her or stab her with its bladed chin, only for the princess to bullet jump away while unleashing her firepower into its face. Bullets, disruption bolts, electro swarms and splatter blasts struck it, the latter procking All Out Assault as she did so, turning her grizco blasts into a rapid fire shotgun, which in turn charged her Fan of Knives, letting her also shotgun it with a set of seven bleed causing blades into its face.

It screamed, fleeing her and hiding back in the metal of its body, but there was no escape from all the poison, bleed, and burning DoT effects her bombardment had caused. Nor did it protect it from a Rot's Exultation empowered Rika smashing it with her fists 3 times, denting blows weakening that armor further than her passive armor penetration that had been enabled by the 3 ongoing DoTs already was.

It raged, swerved and spun, trying to throw her off as it attempted to flee, and while doing so didn’t notice that she was somehow getting heavier and heavier until it was too late.

As the spectators watched from afar and Bowser and Jr raced after her, Kamek channeled his magic. In response Rika grew and grew in size atop the train till she was riding it more like a motorbike than a mass transit vehicle. Rating a palm on the rear of its engine for stability, she raised the other gauntlet up and then vault breaker she smashed it right down, sending the train careening into the desert while she herself floated down with her feather fall rune.

She touched down next to the demon engine who was now buried face first in the sand, gripped it but the rear, and then hauled it free, only to continue to haul it over her head, tip backwards and then slamming the already beaten train into a nearby rock face, suplexing it into oblivion.

Having lost the battle of ship vs train, the loser disengaged in the hands of the winner as she got to her feet, briefly looming over the desert while doing so. Then a moment later a mana spent Kamek slumped to the ground, exhausted by the distance involved in the spell cast (and turning into a cat demon while doing so), causing the princess to start shrinking back down, leaving on her own out there in the desert. She returned soon enough however, riding with Jr on the board towed by his borrowed sand seal, to the sound of cheers and sight of a few cold stares.

Opinions about the death of the controversial lethal aspect of the race tracks were a bit mixed. Naturally your daredevils and more bloodthirsty spectators were rather a bit displeased with its demolition, some of the previously indifferent to the train crowd were just upset with outsider meddling, while those who had been disapproving of the whole bloodsport thing from the beginning were happy to see it gone.

Ultimately however, the seer spectacle of what had just gone down forestalled what was going to be an inevitable ongoing argument for goodness who knows how long, controversy drowned by the cheers Rika got when she got hoisted up into first a relieved hug and then an overhead lift by Bowser to the sound of chants of ‘train slayer!” ‘train slayer!” ‘train slayer!”

Attempts at quiet chiding words from Kamek to Rika, and also from the head of the guard to the troop on behalf of the town’s ruler, where both also smothered by the resulting celebration that exalted Rika’s absurd daring and the sheer skill she’d displayed. At some point during this Rika ended up crushing the spirit of the train for an item. As if also rewarding her for her casual daredevilry (she’d just been trying to help her brother) it generously granted her two items for the price of one.



Shame they were just, stupidly big. Even Bowser could only use one of the blades, and that was if he was forgoing his new shield and doing so with both hands. Fortunately, Kamek was able to shrink them, though that did somewhat lose the appeal of the ridiculous weapons, especially once they worked out they could be used as motorbikes.

The sight of, and then trying out of, that last feature was just the icing on the cake of the party, Jr getting his own little moment in the limelight while wheelying and donutting the giant bladed motor vehicle around the racetrack, artfully bunnyhopping over the rails while doing so.

As the battle continued, the Seekers were making too little progress. It seemed almost inevitable that the Victory would go down, but even so that hardly stopped them from trying to prevent that. Pit relied on the support of their healers and the shields provided by Goldlewis as he kept up his ranged assault. The main problem was in reaching the Consul. I'd show him a thing or two if I had the Lightning Chariot back! Pit privately huffed. The group got a little bit of a break when they broke through the storm clouds, but it was much too short. Z was still sticking to them, and when he prepared to throw a ridiculously large lightning bolt Pit sprinted to the same side of the ship. This was exactly the kind of thing he'd been saving his orbitars for. He swapped out his weaponry and stood ready to block the force of nature with the orbitars' charge shot, but Z... hesitated? "Huh?"

Out of everything that could have happened, another ship showing up was surprising. And one so much bigger than the Virgin Victory! Perhaps even more surprising was that ship's occupants though. A handful of familiar faces exited it, jumping right in to finish driving off the Consul. Their battle was brief, but flashy enough that when Z fell, Pit cheered right along with some of the other Seekers.

"They did it!" The angel didn't dismiss his orbitars just yet on the off chance the Consul popped up again, but he didn't think the man would. He crossed the Victory's deck yet again, watching the much larger ship move off. That had been Nero! So some of Alcamoth's inhabitants were fine after all! And not only that, but fighting fit!

Pit remained up top while the Victory followed after, eager to find out just what was going on. Almost as soon as they'd landed he hopped over the side and grouped up with everyone else in order to meet their re-found allies. Said allies didn't make them wait long.

"Nero!" Pit greeted. They'd only been on the one reconnaissance mission together, but even so Pit considered pretty much anyone he fought or traveled together with a friend. The others were more or less familiar to him, but the pair who exited immediately after caught the most attention from him.

"Tora! And Poppi?!"

When the nopon came up to give him a hug, Pit happily returned it. He squeezed the furball between his arms, pulling Poppi in too. Everyone's sudden appearances (including Z's) were bringing some serious emotional whiplash. When Pit released Tora and Poppi, he had a huge grin on his face.

"I'm so happy to see you guys!" Pit had truly believed that Poppi would be alright, but it was extra nice to have her back so quickly. Did the Seekers taking out Midgar's computers mess with the virus she had, or something? Roxas beat him to asking, and as it turned out Poppi hadn't exactly made it out in one piece despite being with them now.

They got her spirit back? Data? Pit tilted his head, pretty clearly confused. He would end up being confused about a lot of things that were being said. The explanation about who the 'Lost Numbers' were, how they'd found Alcamoth, this 'Markarth,' and the Victory afterward, the whole being born in this world thing and what would happen to them afterward, something about a 'source code'... not a lot of it made sense to Pit.

"Do humans really grow up that fast?" he asked instead to no one in particular. He didn't think so, but maybe things were different now? After all, to him it still seemed like the first confrontation with Galeem was only a little while ago. Definitely not enough time for a stork to even deliver a baby. He squinted at Dawn and Cirrus. "And that's why you look kinda familiar? We know your mom and dad?"

There was something more important than figuring out the identity of the newcomers' parents though, something gigantic that was able to fly and turn invisible that they were standing right next to. Pit shook his head.

"More importantly!" he said and pointed at the ship. "A flying invisible fortress! With a cool name! The Avenger." His voice deepened a little as he said its name just to sound extra cool. He glanced back at the team that had taken on Midgar. "This is awesome! Right? If they're gonna help us we definitely have to go with them!"

So it was that Pit's lot was cast with the Lost Numbers and Alcamoth survivors, though he expected most everyone's would be. Today was turning out to be pretty lucky, all things considered. Not even the more awkward parts of the conversation put a damper on the angel's enthusiasm, though he did quiet down at least a little when Geralt inquired about her wife's whereabouts.

Once the representatives of the Lost Numbers opened the floor, the Seekers began to fire off their questions. Given what everyone had just been through, things stayed pretty simple, with nobody clamoring too harshly to figure everything out all at once. Still, there were plenty of things the heroes needed to know, and if their new friends could offer any answers, they couldn’t afford to pass up this opportunity. Goldlewis decided to keep quiet at first, trying to put together the right questions. With the sheer number of unknowns in play, he needed to make sure he didn’t forget anything important that might’ve gotten buried amidst the constant storm of absurdities. Meanwhile, Sandalphon paid close attention to what her companions got in response, ready to extrapolate whatever she could to figure out what she wanted to know without having to ask.

First, Midna’s questions prompted Dawn to deliver some very good news. Though the report Shirogane gave on what the Virgin Victory found -or rather, did not find- among Alcamoth’s wreckage painted the worst possible picture, it sounded like the Lost Numbers just happened to be first on the scene. That didn’t mean that everyone made it out, far from it in fact, but the knowledge that some of their allies survived was a jolt of hope that the Seekers really needed. Even Goldlewis, who’d never seen the place nor its people for himself, gave a sigh of relief.

In answering, however, Cirrus said something that earned him a sharp look from Sandalphon. They’ll be back, sooner or later. Despite his tone, there was no way to spin that remark as nothing more than a bitter joke. The archangel wanted to know what he meant by that right away, but his sister shut him down immediately. Sandalphon realized in that moment that she was hiding something–they both were, in fact. Maybe they only meant to shield the Seekers in some way, but regardless of their intentions, she needed to know. Once she did, she could judge whether or not the Seekers should for herself. For now though, she just made a mental note of it. And while she chimed in after Dawn mentioned being ‘new life’, the woman also said something that Sandalphon logged for further analysis. The Source Engine. She made it sound like a database, but for people rather than figures. Then again, given what Sandalphon herself knew of spirits, everything about a person really could be boiled down to raw data. Maybe her hypotheses were getting ahead of themselves, but it wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine that this ‘Source Engine’ might be the source of spirits themselves.

Goldlewis, meanwhile, considered the Lost Numbers’ offer of help. Right now, robbed of their support network and more targeted by Moebius than ever, they could definitely use the help. But this sudden windfall of well-equipped allies almost seemed too good to be true. What was the catch…?

With his first question Roxas helped shed a little light on what happened to Tora and Poppi, and while seeing the kids happy to see one another again was about as heartwarming as could be, the keyblade wielder went on to unearth an existential conundrum that left everyone reeling. As he realized what the World of Light’s end would mean for these people, Goldlewis swallowed. All of a sudden it made sense why some of the ‘new life’ wouldn’t want to fight. It also implied that Dawn, Cirrus, and the other Lost Numbers were still willing to set things right despite the ramifications. “Takes a hell of a lot of guts,” he murmured. “Y’all might be even stronger than we are.”

At that, Cirrus cracked a wry smile. “For the sake of the mission, I sure hope not.”

When Roland and Susie asked some questions, Sandalphon’s chief takeaway wasn’t about the Lost Numbers, but about herself. All of the Seekers, really, and everyone in this world. If aging worked in the World of Light as one might expect, and each member of these reclusive renegades had been raised from infancy, what did that mean for everyone else? She only remembered her home world, Galeem’s attack, and then waking up one day in a Piltover church. Like the others she’d assumed that to be the start of everything, events and memories prior to her own advent pure fabrication. But if that had just been when ‘it’ made her, that ‘it’ being the Source Engine, Galeem, or whatever, that really changed things.

“Meh, meh!? Geralt!?” Tora’s surprised yelp cut through Sandalphon’s concentration. The news that the young-ish redhead in front of him was actually Geralt had evidently thrown him for a loop. Though the nopon had braved the Sandswept Sky while Geralt sailed the Deep Blue Seaside, Tora knew the crabby old Witcher from their time in the Land of Adventure, and this woman looked nothing like him. At the same time, though, he couldn’t deny the power of spirits. Tora looked away in an indignant huff. “T-Tora not know what friend talk about, meh! Only room for one ladypon in Tora heart, and that Poppi!”

When Geralt asked Dante about Yennefer, the devil hunter crossed his arms with a thoughtful expression. “Yennefer…” he repeated, thinking. “Black-haired sorceress lady, right? Yeah, saw her back with the other survivors in Markarth. Asking about you in fact.” For perhaps obvious reasons, he seemed nonplussed by the extent of the changes that fusion could inspire in a person. “Told her we’d keep an eye out, and she could come with if she wanted, but she chose to stay behind. Said to tell you to hurry back, if I saw you.” He grinned. “Guess we know where you’re headed next, huh?”

After that, it was the veteran’s turn. Pit’s question ignited his smoldering curiosity, and forced him to request further clarity. “Now, I know this ain’t neither here nor there,” Goldlewis began. “But seein’ as Sandalphon already sussed it out somehow, an’ I hate bein’ in the dark, I gotta ask.” He offered a quizzical expression to Dawn, the likelier of the two siblings. “Who’re your parents, anyhow?”

Dawn shifted uncomfortably. “Hahh, I figured it’d come to this sooner or later. Well, if you’ve gotta know, our parents were Tifa Lockheart and Cloud Strife.”

After Goldlewis wracked his brain for a moment, Sandalphon stepped in to help. “Tifa was the name of the barmaid in Heaven’s Edge, in the Sector 07 Slums,” she explained evenly. “I don’t recognize the other name.”

“Me neither,” the veteran admitted. “But wait, you said ‘were’, when this Tifa’s still alive?”

When neither Dawn nor Cirrus replied to that, Sandalphon chimed in again. “The more noteworthy problem with this claim is that the Tifa I observed appears to be younger than Dawn by approximately a decade.” She stared at the Lost Numbers, unblinking. “There is much our potential allies aren’t sharing with us.”

Dawn held her hands up placatingly. “Hey, hey. I said we’ll get to it later, and we will, I promise. But the ins and outs of how we all came to be isn’t as important as what we choose to do now about the future.” She put her hands on her hips, her face resolute. “Our offer of help is the real deal. Even if…even if we know what ending the World of Light would do to us, we’re still ready to go the distance. And we have a lot to offer. Only those who start today will have a tomorrow.” Even if Pit had given them his vote of confidence, the others had yet to concur. She pursed her lips, then held out her hand. “Will you join us?”

A tense moment passed. Naturally, it was Dante who broke the nice. “Y’know, if you guys say no, I’m gonna look reaaaaal stupid…”

“...They seem like goodypons to Tora,” Tora piped up after a moment.

Goldlewis glanced toward Commander Nelson, who met his gaze before sighing. “Our options are not good right now. The Victory took a pounding thanks to that blasted Consul, and it was already pretty roughed up. Provided that these Lost Numbers are trustworthy, it would be best to relocate all assets and personnel from both the Centennials and Bridges to the Avenger, strategically speaking.” Though it pained him to consider abandoning the Virgin Victory, camping out in an earthbound wreck wouldn’t help much of anyone.

Cirrus smirked. “Trustworthy? Did we or did we not save your asses? Jeez. Well, even if you don’t trust us, we’re just a couple assholes, and you’re the heroes who’ve beaten multiple Guardians. What chance would we have?” He shook his head. “You saw for yourself how much Moebius likes us, too. You’re literally all we’ve got.”

After a moment, Sandalphon relented. “We are in dire need of stability and centralization,” she summarized. “The Lost Numbers have proved their good intentions. If the Seekers operated by assuming betrayal at every step, I certainly wouldn’t be here. We have every logical reason to give them a chance.”

Goldlewis nodded. “That about sums it up, I reckon.” He crossed his arms as he glanced between the siblings. “Looks like we’ll be rollin’ with y’all from here on out.”

With a smile and sigh of relief, Dawn clapped her hands together. “Great! In that case, all aboard! We can give you a quick tour while we’re on the way!”

“On way?” Poppi raised an eyebrow. “Did Poppi miss something? Where everypon going?”

Dawn was already halfway up the ramp before she turned around. Even with a giant hammer strapped to her back, the woman could hustle. “Oh, it was Cirrus’ idea!” she called down. “He said that if we did convince you, we should take you to Carnival Town to celebrate, if you’re willing. Figured you guys could use a vacation after all your hard work, I guess!”

Sandalphon considered the short time the team spent in Port Meridian. Considering what lay both behind and ahead of them, a few hours’ downtime wasn’t anywhere near enough. “That may be wise.”

Her brother shrugged as he trudged up after her. “And if that doesn’t lift your spirits, there’s always drinking. I’ll be at the bar if you need me.”

Now it was Goldlewis’ turn to look surprised. “Y’all got a bar on this thing?” He’d be lying if he told himself he wasn’t curious.

“Told you we had a lot to offer!” Dawn grinned. “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg! Come on in!”

Goldlewis watched as Tora and Poppi turned to follow the others back up the ramp, followed by Cerberus, who’d snatched Dante’s guns from their holstered and run off to play with them, prompting the devil hunter to give chase. Only once Sandalphon stepped past him did he get moving, followed by the Bridges crew with their fully-loaded backpacks and floating carries of equipment. Nelson, MacGregor, and Shirogane returned to their Virgin Victory for what might be its final flight, already planning the transfer of essential equipment to the new ship. Once the Seekers climbed aboard into the aircraft’s vehicle bay, the cargo ramp folded up behind them, and the Avenger prepared for takeoff.

As the background noise built up and the ship began to move, Dawn beckoned her guests over. “Might be for the best to steer clear of the engine room, but everything else is fair game. If the Avenger is our world, our world is now your oyster. Just be sure to say hi to everyone you see. From this moment on, we’re all friends here.” She waved toward some of the strangers who’d been watching the exchange from inside, now scattered around the vehicle bay with their eyes on their new allies. Dawn directed everyone’s attention to a map of the Avenger’s layout on the wall, which showed off more rooms than Goldlewis would have thought possible. “Anywhere catch your eye?”





Nothing pleased Nadia more than the realization that the waters of the Bath of Tefnut were every bit as good as they looked. An outsider seeing a cat soak herself with such relish might have looked at her askance, but by now the feral had really grown to appreciate this leftover quirk. Ever since her fusion with the Oceanid all the way back in the Bottomless Sea, she’d really grown to appreciate the wonders of water for what they were. Though the element dominated Little Innsmouth back in her home world, filling the canals of the Dagonian borough twice a day during high tide, Nadia had avoided it like the plague back in those days. Truth be told, she’d probably pass on a swim there even now, knowing how filthy those waterways could be. But her newfound affinity meant that she’d achieved something tantalizingly close to serenity beneath the crystal-clear waves of Heaven’s Edge, just south of Limsa Lominscuttle Town. Floating there amidst all the fish and coral, fully immersed in a tropical paradise, had been nothing short of sublime.

Of course, this place was excellent in its own right. While the ocean had been bracingly cold, these waters felt soothingly warm. In this strictly controlled environment, a far cry from the boisterous pool party vibe of the seaside resorts, everything was wonderfully quiet and calm. Though plenty of other guests could be found throughout this public bathhouse, nobody disturbed one another. Anywhere else Nadia might have hurled herself into the pool in a quest to make the biggest splash possible, but today even she couldn’t bring herself to disturb the air of tranquility. She just floated around on her back, her eyes closed, and relaxed. If she’d sought peace with nature back at Heaven’s Edge, she could seek peace with herself right now. Against all odds, it felt like her experience at Yuria’s with Primrose really had relieved her somewhat, helping to feel more at ease. It was a nice feeling.

Eventually, Sectonia started talking. Nadia’s ear twitched, and after a few moments she cracked her eyes open. She seemed to be talking about Ganondorf, speculating on his relationship to the Gerudo people. While she didn’t really care about the backstory, the answer to Sectonia’s question seemed obvious. Of course the big guy would have a fondness for his people. Even if she couldn’t relate personally, she figured having a ‘people’ to identify with would be a big deal for anyone. Idly she wondered what that might look like for her. She’d already seen her fair share of catgirls and catguys here and there, but their shared features inspired no real feeling of kinship. If anything, Little Innsmouth had been her community, and the Fishbone gang had been her family. After what happened though, it seemed unlikely that she’d ever find a new one. Especially with the Seekers of Light, a group whose ultimate goal was dissolution. When this was all said and done, they’d all drift away like bottles in the sea.

Nadia heaved a long, heavy sigh, thinking of Primrose, Therion, and Ace. Making friends was all well and good, but the more she got attached, the more it’d hurt when everything went back to normal. If only these friends -this lovely moment- could last forever.

After she failed to deliver the opinion Sectonia was waiting for, the big bug continued. She started talking about sprucing up, fashion, makeovers, and so on. Truth be told, it annoyed Nadia a little. While happy to defer to the queen when she herself felt like a change, Sectonia seemed to see her allies as problems to solve. “We?” Nadia replied with a chuckle. “When did you learn how to speak French? I barely know enough about looks to get myself together, let alone make decisions for other people. If the guys need a new outfit, they oughta get the Yuria treat-men-t. And that’s all I got.” She smirked. “I got a feeling if you hair-do anything funny with Big G, he’ll give you a ‘cut’ or two of your own.”

A few minutes later, Nadia decided to take a break. She pulled herself from the water, shook herself off, then grabbed a towel. After wrapping it around her shoulders like a cape, she started detaching her limbs one at a time in the hopes of drying them off easier. This turned out to be one of her less bright ideas, and one of her forearms ended up slipping from her grasp. “Ah, crap.” It plopped down a short ways away, but rather than get up Nadia tried to puppet it back toward her with a mix of spider-crawling and blood jets. Unfortunately, the slippy tile floor made this a little tricky, and she was so focused that she didn’t notice someone approaching until a pair of black slippers clacked to a stop right behind the stranded arm.

Nadia looked up. The newcomer, as one might expect in Gerudo Town, was a woman, and despite her simple black swimsuit -rather modest by her standards, in fact- she possessed an oddly regal look. Her black bob cut and dark skin gave her the air of an Egyptian queen, made especially striking by the piercing cyan behind Galeem’s sunset glare in her eyes. They stared down at the fallen forearm, curious rather than appalled. “What is this?” she asked, kneeling down. She ran her finger through the pool of blood, then strained it between her thumb and index finger. “Blood?” Sensing Nadia’s gaze, she looked toward the feral. “Is this…yours? Are you injured?”

“Oh, no. I’m just like this. Sorry!” Nadia grinned sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I’m unh-armed. Mind passing it over?”

“Hmm…” The woman picked up the arm by the wrist and slowly stood up, examining it. Nadia could feel her grip, and something about it made the hairs on her neck stand on end. “Does this…happen often? You must lose a lot of blood…”

The feral shrugged. “It’s no biggie, I got more where that comes from. Could even say it’s hemoglobinfinite.”

The woman’s eyes fixated on her with such suddenness that Nadia got the impression she’d made a poor choice of words, somehow. “Fascinating…” With very little ceremony, the elegant stranger slipped her blood-covered fingers into her mouth.

This time, a chill went down Nadia’s spine, and she rose to her feet. Taking a half-step forward, she reached out to receive her arm. When the stranger did not immediately acquiesce, Nadia took matters into her own hands. She shot out muscle fibers from both stump and arm that bound together and promptly yanked the missing limb back into place. Nadia flexed her fingers, her brow furrowed while her new acquaintance casually crossed her arms, an amused smile on her face. “You know, I don’t remember seeing you three before,” she murmured. “Is this your first time at the Bath of Tefnut?”

“Actually, I was just leaving,” Nadia told her as she reached for her clothes, grinning as if the whole thing was all in good fun. “Any longer and I’ll turn into a raisin. You know?” At this point, Primrose could probably tell that her smile was far from genuine.

The woman put on a sad look. “Ah, a pity. It’s almost a shame to let you go…but you’re welcome to return whenever you’d like, Miss…?”

“Fortune,” Nadia said shortly.

“A fortuitous name,” the lady smiled. “I am Eliza, the owner of this place. See you soon…”

In no time, the feral was standing beneath the desert sun again, letting the warmth and breeze finish the drying process that Eliza cut short. Her new clothes were back on, her swimsuit stuffed into one of her pouches, and she felt revitalized from the experience, even if it ended weirdly. Eccentricities aside, there was something wrong with that woman, Nadia could just feel it. She didn’t like someone looking at her the same way she’d look at a cheeseburger. Well, whatever. With her bath out of the way, Nadia could think about what to do next. She stood there for a minute outside the Bath of Tefnut for a minute, tails swishing, before activating her linkpearl to make another call.

The next moment, her voice reached the Seekers scattered around -and outside- Gerudo Town. “Hey, everyone! Now that we’ve relaxed and had lunch, why don’t we all get together for some fun?” She did not pause to consider that the others might have spent their time very differently, instead pushing forward with her proposal. “I was thinkin’ we’d get back on the train and head to Carnival Town. It’s this gorgeous seaside town that’s basically one big fiesta twenty-four seven, with great food and fun in the sun. If you’re looking for a good time, it doesn’t get much better than that!”

Though Ganondorf in particular might already have the welfare and governance of Gerudo Town on his mind, the Seekers’ overall goal right now -to enjoy themselves as a reward for their efforts in the Under- remained. If the campaign against Galeem could wait while the team recuperated, so could the Bandit Hordes, and a place that extended a party invite to all would work out much better than one only open to half the team via royal decree. Once in agreement, the Seekers wound their way back through Gerudo Town to the train station, where they would embark on one last ride with Nadia in the lead, eager to show her old stomping grounds to new friends.

---

In the Dystopiascape, a heavy cloud cover presided over all, a somber tapestry of interwoven grays that suited the deadly serious atmosphere down below as Midgar faced its ultimate challenge. To many, that city stood as something akin to a force of nature, an inescapable fact of life whose shadow loomed larger over every soul, defining every aspect of their lives from cradle to grave–and it was today that their fates were decided. Yet for all the lives that hung in the balance, in their tens and hundreds of thousands, Midgar was just one small part of the world. Far beyond the reach of Midgar’s heavy shadow, a radiant sun shone down through spotless blue skies, and as the curtains closed on the city in chaos, its citizens could finally seek that light for themselves.

And nowhere did the sun shine brighter than upon the Sandswept Sky’s northernmost point, a hooked peninsula of salty sea breezes and verdant palms, where mountains with sunglasses smiled upon the sparkling blue waters and the party never stopped. Tostarena Town had been an oasis for festive latin culture in a vast, inhospitable desert, but Carnival Town was the genuine artifact, a colorful and energetic municipality that reigned as the tourism hotspot of the entire eastern seaboard. Here, exuberant music resounded from every street, and sensational food could be found from the ubiquitous street carts all the way up to the rooftops. In addition to the plentiful Tostarenans, Carnival Town harbored cacti both adorably small and comically large, as well as numerous raving rabbids and jovial monkeys, all of whom epitomized the local philosophy of living life to the fullest with all its thrills and spills. Everywhere one looked, one could find billboard advertisements for fun ways to pass the time, or leaderboards for the various activities, with a certain celebrity called Captain Falcon topping the charts for the races.

The cat train brought the Seekers to Carnival Town through the Super Bell Subway a well-lit train station that doubled as one of the city’s many, race tracks. Just a moment after the team stepped out onto the platform, a gang of racers in karts, bikes, and other speed machines cruised by, bravely dodging subway trains as they fought for first place. “Whoa!” Nadia grinned, her initial surprise turned to excitement. “Yeah, that’s about how I remember it! Better buckle your seatbelts, guys, ‘cause you ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”

Carnival Town offered two separate racing events on the whole, and each was very different from the other. The biggest in terms of scale was Big Blue. As its name suggested, Big Blue was a large F-Zero track suspended over the ocean waters of Carnival Town’s harbor. Its size and overall distance was much greater than the comparatively smaller scaled Kart Races held on Carnival Town’s namesake track. This was necessary because of how much faster F-Zero machines were. Big Blue’s size and scale also meant that those races couldn’t be held on a daily basis like the Kart Races could be. In fact the F-Zero race on Big Blue only took place twice a week, whereas the Kart Races could be held regularly every day.

In fact a Kart Race was being held right at the moment. The track itself was versatile and capable of having its course, terrain, and obstacles swapped around once a day so that no two races here were ever exactly alike. Both events attracted its share of colorful racers, but Kart Racers on the whole usually trended toward younger drivers, while the more dangerous and technical aspects of F-Zero machines meant they were for adult drivers only. Of course that didn’t mean there weren’t adult Kart Drivers, in fact a certain F-Zero Pilot was currently fighting to maintain his lead over the pack in that day’s Kart Races. He drove a Kart modeled after the body of his personal F-Zero machine - the Blue Falcon. And although it handled quite differently, its driver wasn’t about to let that stop him from maintaining his reputation as a skilled racer.

That racer’s name was also plastered all over the leaderboards for fastests lap times and win/loss records as well. In the few days he’d been here at Carnival Town, Captain Falcon had already begun making a name for himself. He was already famous in the F-Zero Grand Prix but now that fame and infamy was beginning to follow him into the Kart Races as well.

"Yes!" The Captain shouted out as he managed to successfully corner around a sharp turn. He was being chased down by a few opponent Karts, some of whom were even prepared to fire the items they had grabbed from the item boxes scattered around the tracks as a means to take out the competition. But Falcon himself was more accustomed to the F-Zero Grand Prix in that regard. As such, he often went out of his way to refrain from utilizing such item boxes to his advantage simply because they didn’t exist in the races he was accustomed to and therefore he was used to claiming his victories on sheer driving skill alone. And it wasn’t lost on him that this fact often tended to peeve the other kart racers currently trying to overtake him.

Also “Karts” was probably a loose term to describe the vehicles being used in these races. Some of them were indeed classic style karts, but not all of them. Some racers had their karts styled after motorcycles or four-wheel ATV’s, depending on their preference. Out of the many different racers Falcon had found himself going head to head with, there were some standouts who often gave him the most difficulty. A certain bandicoot girl with a blonde ponytail, a red-furred squirrel with a bit of a potty mouth, a white-furred critter with tiny wings and a red pom-pom on its head, a kid in lime-green clothes with his ears perpetually covered by headphones blasting music, and a large cat with purple fur. But the worst of the bunch had to be the pair of turtles, whom Falcon could only assume were related somehow given they shared a last name. These two “Koopas” had gained quite the penchant for racing aggressively and sometimes even outright playing dirty.

But this, too, was something Falcon was no stranger to. He’d had his share of rival racers in the Grand Prix who also were overly aggressive in their attempts to retire their rivals as a means of eliminating the competition. Though admittedly these two Koopa brothers were quite a bit brazen and sometimes even cartoonish in their antics. But the pack was crossing the finish line and beginning the final lap of the race. And the track for today was designed with sharp corners and at least one loop-de-loop in mind. These corners invariably made for prime spots to try and force drivers off the track or even set traps if one was smart enough to calculate where most of the racers would make the tight turns. In fact one of the first corners contained a slyly placed banana peel that someone dropped during the previous lap that Falcon narrowly managed to avoid. The foul-mouthed squirrel behind him was not so lucky and careened out of bounds. He was unhurt but this set him back irreparably and he was certainly not happy about that fact.

Unfortunately for most of the racers, Morton Koopa’s large size meant it was relatively easy for him to drive through more than one item box at a time and effectively rob racers behind him of a chance to overtake his lead over them. After breaking through some item boxes, Morton started roaring with laughter as he barrelled his way forward a few positions while supercharged by a Power Star - knocking aside Mog and Coco in the process. Meanwhile his smaller brother Larry had just fired off a red shell that homed in on poor Beat and blasted him aside for the Koopa to zoom past. So this now had them setting their sights on the Captain, who was still maintaining his lead at this point.

First the Koopalings tried getting on either side of Falcon and slammed their Karts inward against him, only for the F-Zero Pilot to slam his brakes and cause them to miss and slam into each other instead. Falcon then hit the gas and steered around the stunned Koopalings, but it wasn’t too long before they were tailing him yet again. This time Larry shot another koopa shell, but it was green and therefore wouldn’t home in on its intended target. This allowed Falcon to safely dodge the green shell, resulting in it wildly bouncing around the track barriers and eventually blasting Morton, resulting in the two beginning to bicker with one another. Moments later, Morton busted out an item of his own. This one temporarily transformed him and his Kart into a banzai bill that blasted through Larry and would have slammed into Falcon as well if he hadn’t managed to veer out of its path. But at the very least this now put Morton in the lead where he now threatened to take first place and put an end to Captain Falcon’s current win streak. That was until the Captain spotted something blue blur past him.

Yep, it was the dreaded Blue Shell. Someone farther behind must have managed to obtain one and fired it off. And since Morton was the one in the lead now… “Oh come on!” The Koopa bellowed out when the spiky blue shell circled his Kart and then slammed down on him with explosive force. This completely grinded his momentum to a halt and resulted in Captain Falcon zooming past him and eventually past the finish line as well. He may have gotten a little lucky at the end, but Falcon’s win streak still remained intact for the time being. Incidentally, Morton and Larry’s aggressive antics backfiring on them resulted in rest of the pack managing to overtake them and leave them both in dead last, and arguing with each other over whose fault this was.

The Captain, meanwhile, brought his Kart to screeching halt and watched with satisfaction as the leaderboards updated to include his latest lap time records as well as the additional points to his win/loss record. Overall a pretty good race, he thought. And he still hadn’t needed to resort to using those item boxes yet, either. Though he had to admit that particular ending did involve some good luck on his part, but as far as he was concerned that was all just as much part of the game as one’s driving skill was. Sometimes you really did need something a little extra beyond pure skill, and this definitely seemed to have been one of those races.

Ah, but the Kart Races were not the main thing that drew Falcon to Carnival Town. No, that would be Big Blue. But the next Grand Prix race scheduled for that track wasn’t until later that evening. As such, Captain Falcon still had plenty of time to kill before it was time to head over to what he considered to be the “main event”. Given the time, he decided he’d break for lunch before continuing any of his escapades on the racetrack. In fact he may just look around at what some of the other games Carnival Town had to offer as well. He had to spice things up, somehow, after all.