Until a few minutes ago, the night sky above Edinburgh MagicaPolis had been overcast, shrouded in thick, moody clouds as tumultuous as the arctic sea that enclosed the city of eternal winter. Fresh snowfall filtered down from the heavens, and the black waves lapped thirstily at the city’s seawalls. Neither heavy sky nor relentless sea could hope to swallow the floating metropolis, however, so long as the sorcery of its citizens endured. The pleasant light of fire magic shined from Edinburgh’s windows, keeping countless homes cozy despite the polar climate outside, and arcane streetlights ensured that no pedestrians need wander in darkness. Of course, tonight the shadowed avenues also glimmered with the pale blue fire of ghostflame, stronger than ever before. For the past week or so the setting sun had preceded the return of the living dead, skeletons who wandered the city streets in their dozens and hundreds, often causing panic and mayhem. With the parting of the clouds, pale light shone down from the ravaged moon onto the well-worn cobbles and frosty shingles of an Edinburgh MagicaPolis alight with warm orange and spine-chilling blue.

It was a beautiful sight, especially from the apex of the tower that crowned the immense hat of the staggeringly huge pumpkin that formed Edinburgh’s centermost and most iconic feature. From way up here, civilians were totally invisible, the magitech vehicles that glided slowly across the city’s streets canals might as well be ants, and the buildings minuscule tiles in a vast, snow-dusted mosaic. One could see well past the limits of Edinburgh itself, across the inky waters and to the fathomless glaciers to the north, or to the Frozen Highlands to the southeast, where the mountain called Dragonspine towered over the landscape. The winds howled, and it was bitterly cold, but this pinnacle offered a breathtaking view nonetheless.

Unfortunately, its charms were lost on the woman who arrived in a burst of swirling purple particles, gasping at the frigid high-altitude air as she clutched the wound in her stomach. Though her futuristic gray bodysuit boasted an impressive set of cherry-red armor on top of it, it didn’t protect her completely, and her black velvet cape had done little to defend against a swordblade delivered from behind. Such pain at this height was dizzying, but with a groan the masked woman steadied herself, then reached her other hand up toward her head. For a moment she fumbled at the switch before resorting to ripping her helmet clean off, allowing an enormous quantity of knee-length blonde hair to tumble down as the winter winds bit at a mature face filled with unquenchable rage.

“I’ll kill you,” she hissed through her teeth. “All of you! Every time. Every time you rear your ugly heads, I’ll kill you, over, and over, and over again. My children…my beautiful pets…how dare you…how dare you!”

Her scream quickly faded into the blustering winds. After a moment she turned with a huff, walking away from the tower’s edge. Before her, suspended within the tower’s open-lattice wrought iron, hung an enormous metal gauge one-third full of purple fire. She stopped in front of it, staring into the blaze, then held out our hands. “I’ll keep coming as long as it takes,” she hissed as glowing red particles began to filter out from the huge device into her body. “I’ll drain the Flame Clock dry if need be. You’ll never win, and you’ll not get away…”

Suddenly, a sphere of spectral energy slammed into her, eliciting a yelp of pain and surprise as the woman slid away. “What!?”

When she looked up, she spotted three figures emerging from their hiding places behind the metal pillars. One was a monster hunter, formerly a fresh-faced recruit now outfitted with all kinds of arms and armor, as well as an uncharacteristically serious expression. After him stomped an enormous detective with a bell-shaped body beneath a beige trench coat, a bronze contraption shaped like the neck of a saxophone protruding from his back. Finally, a short superhero with a black mask and red outfit walked beside them, his hands already balled into fists. After a moment, the perpetrator of the attack floated down in front of the Flame Clock from above: a sleek, almost alien creature with a long purple tail.

<CONSUL!> a voice roared, formed not of a voice but of pure psychic energy, and thrust like a lance directly into the woman’s mind. <In vengeance for the people of Alcamoth, and all the Pokemon you’ve treated like playthings, we’ve come to put you down.>

The Consul’s lip curled as she looked between her four enemies, still panting and disheveled. Then she straightened up, composing herself. “Oh. I see. You sent your little friends to my home to bait me out, then set up shop here to try and finish me off once I flew the coop.” She smirked darkly. “Clever. Though it’s a shame your friends died thinking their sacrifices would make a difference. Because I’m afraid your run ends here.” She stretched out her hands as her core began to glow, purple energy gathering deep within her. “You see, my power, Import, gives me complete and total access to the marvelous realm known as Ultra Space, in all its sublime glory. It was enough to take care of your friends as-is, but since you’ve gone to all this trouble, I think you deserve…”

Her power surged, consuming and transforming her body. When the swirling purple energies converged, they left behind a twelve-foot biotech monstrosity with purplish-red armor over fused black flesh, cyan energy flowing through its cable arteries like blood. In her belly whirled a true Moebius core, an engine emblazoned with the lemniscate symbol of infinity. When she spoke, her voice bore demonic distortion. “...the full treatment. The power of Ultra Space, distilled and perfected by Moebius.” Around the Consul’s Moebius form, space itself began to rip and tear, dark light and alien appendages breaking through.

<Struggle all you want,> Mewtwo declared as his teammates readied themselves for battle. <What you do with the gift of life determines who you are.> He held up his hand, pure psychic energy gleaming between his fingers. <And you…are dead.>





Located off the World of Light’s southeastern shore, at perhaps the southernmost part of the region known as the Deep Blue Seaside, a certain island town offered a climate of tropical warmth and humidity, with palm trees and white sandy beaches. It stood out as the largest and most developed by far of the islands that together formed an atoll surrounding the ecological marvel known as the Blue Hole, a deep basin whose contents transformed with every high tide, its terrain and wildlife inexplicably swapped. One day its shallows might be home to colorful colors, and the next a kelp forest, while the lower reaches accessible through pits and tunnels in the underwater landscape could be polar, volcanic, or even prehistoric. A source of near-unlimited livelihood, the Blue Hole was a natural -or perhaps supernatural- treasure coveted by all and jealousy guarded by the denizens of Mafia Town.

Unlike its precious Blue Hole, though, Mafia Town was mostly man-made, paved over and built up into a densely-packed, multi-level maritime fortress of orange mosaic tiles, stone bricks of milk-white or chocolate-brown, and roofs of dazzling silver or shingles as azure blue as the sea itself. Each layer of buildings became the ‘ground’ for the one above, creating a winding upward path from the docks and shipyards past bustling markets up through narrow lanes between tall apartment buildings with hanging laundry lines and flower boxes on their windowsills. Toward the top things evened out and opened up a bit more, offering rooftop greenbelts among fountain plazas, poolhouses, and clock towers. Even that wasn’t the limit, though. At the very top and middle of Mafia Town there existed a seemingly unlimited source of freshwater, not just feeding the high-speed aqueducts and cascades and that washed down through the town’s channels to the sea, but a spiraling geyser that somehow held up a massive plate like a support pillar. The Mafia Headquarters on top of it couldn’t be seen from down here, but like an umbrella it cast a great round shadow over Mafia Town that traveled throughout the day, offering its many residents -including the plentiful but mostly harmless (not to mention identical) Mafia goons- a little reprieve from the beating sun.

Most remarkable, perhaps, were the smells. Thanks to the Blue Hole and its dominance over regional trade, Mafia Town boasted an abundance of eateries, and with the evening well underway all the restaurants were in full swing. It wasn’t just the briney tang of seafood on the wind, either. The aromas of fresh baked crust from Possum Pizzeria, savory sauces from Seaside Spaghetti, and so forth all filtered their way through the streets on the breeze, tantalizing the citizens’ taste buds as they wrapped up work for the day.

Of course, not everything was one hundred percent food-oriented. Even down by the water there were seaside plazas alongside all the wharves, where one could find things like a lovely flower shop or a art display. Beyond the town itself, hot air balloons and sailboats lent both sky and sea a wealth of color, while the assertive billboards and hand-painted graffiti of the Mafia made sure that few public walls lacked decoration.

Down on the water, the fishing boats were making their way back to port one by one. The Mafia was very selective about who could harvest from the Blue Hole, and many of these vessels worked for them, but among the handful of Mafia-approved enterprises that didn’t there was a distinctive boat with a purple hull that had yet to get moving. On its deck, a well-tanned man with a shock of white hair, scars, sunglasses, and a red Hawaiian shirt with bananas paced back and forth, his manner impatient but not necessarily troubled. He glanced at the water every so often, expecting something any minute, and before too long his vigilance was rewarded with the sight of familiar shapes swimming upward. Both were navy blue, and one much larger than the other, so Cobra didn’t need to think twice. By the time the pair breached the surface at the back of the boat, he was already ready and waiting to receive the waterproof yellow crates the divers thrust into his hands. “Took you long enough!” he greeted them, flashing the two a smile until he tried to heft the precious cargo in his arms. “Whoa, this is heavy!” He settled for dragging it onto the boat. “Stuffed to the brim again? You two don’t know when to quit!”

“I do: an hour ago!” The first diver, Dave, gasped as he climbed up from the water, hauling himself out like a seal on an ice floe. He was a rotund man with a brown goatee, and though typically cheerful he looked red in the face right now, exhausted and practically panting from his efforts. After collapsing onto the boat’s deck, his chest heaving up and down, Dave just lay there while Cobra retrieved the other box. “But she keeps swimming off the minute she sees anything interesting,” he complained, his tone affectionate. “I swear, she’s gonna be the death of me.”

After climbing aboard, the second diver immediately unzipped her wetsuit and let it hang around her waist, revealing a mint-green swimsuit underneath, tall cat ears, and a head of calico-colored hair in a fluffy bob cut that she shook to air out. Ms Fortune’s electric-blue eyes were full of mischief as she grinned down at Dave, her hands on her hips. “Well, good thing I’ve got you around to bail me out when I get in trouble. Where you see danger, I seafood! Plus, you’re great at finding the extra oxygen down there, so it’s all ‘tanks’ to you!” When Dave just rolled his eyes, the catgirl known only to her closest friends as Nadia turned to the other man, pleased with herself for her puns and not out of them yet. “Whaddya think, Cobra? Our e-fish-iency is off the charts!”

After finishing his inspection, Cobra stood up from her crate with a huge grin. “Good haul, Fortune. Chances are we break our profit records again tonight.” As Dave sighed in exasperation, his contributions downplayed like always, Cobra he headed over to the ship’s helm and began to spool it up. “Let’s find out.”

A few minutes later, he brought the boat to a stop at the trio’s destination: a floating restaurant docked at one one Mafia Town’s smaller wharves. Though essentially a glorified raft kept afloat with the help of tires, Bancho Sushi was solidly built and barely rocked beneath her feet. It also looked nice, with a clean traditional wooden style supplemented by elegant cherry blossoms. While Cobra moored the boat, Dave and Nadia worked together to haul the boxes over to the holding tank, where they dumped the live-caught sealife while putting the carvings from larger creatures on ice. Then Nadia made a beeline for the opposite end of the long counter to stroke the black-and-white cat that always lounged there. After a full week of feeding and petting the kitty, she and Nadia were basically best friends, even if Chucho didn’t approve. As one might expect, the interior of Bancho Sushi had no customers right now, but that was about to change.

Already the sushi chef, a serious-looking man with black spectacles and a light blue kimono, was getting prepped, and the two other employees were running around setting things up. Bancho could tell just from today’s haul -and the hungry customers beginning to gather outside- that tonight was going to be a busy night. “You’re late,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Whoa, don’t have a tempura tantrum,” Nadia joked, holding her hands up as in surrender. “So what’s on the menu tonight, boss?”

“Hmm.” Bancho peered deep into the holding tank, identifying its contents and what could be made of them in an instant. “Quite a variety. In addition to sushi and sashimi, I can make Fried Onion Cuttlefish, the Tropical Fish platter, Wrasse Curry, Deep Fish Tempura, and Trevally Kombu Ochazuke,” he assessed before looking at the ice box. “Is that…Megamouth Shark?”

Nadia nodded, grinning. “Mm-hmm! Now that was a fun fight. Poor Dave was just about pissing himself, though.” Imagining the menu, the catgirl sighed. “Man, I never thought I’d like sushi, but the stuff you make is something else. If swimming wasn’t such good exercise, I’d be as big as Dave by now.” She shrugged and turned to go. “Well, guess I’ll get outta your hair be-fur the customers show up.”

“Wait a moment.” At Bancho’s voice, Nadia turned on a dime. Her eyebrows shot up when she spotted the knotted blue headband in his hands. “You wanted to try working up front, didn’t you? Tonight’s your chance.”

He barely got the chance to finish before the catgirl snatched it out of his hands and started tying it around her head. “Hell yeah! Just you wait, Bancho. I’ll make you proud!”

The chef cracked the faintest of smiles. “Just don’t drop anything.” He then narrowed his eyes at her attire–or lack thereof. “And get changed, would you? I know you’re feral for tips, but I’m not letting anyone serve sushi in a swimsuit.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Nadia was already dashing away when she slid to a sudden stop, her head turned one hundred and eighty degrees. “Wait, was that a pun!? From YOU!?” By then he’d already turned his back, though, so the catgirl couldn’t do much but run off, snickering to herself.

After another minute she was back, dressed in her usual fur-lined jacket, shorts, and unbuttoned shirt. With Bancho Sushi about to open, Nadia took a deep breath to steel herself, and looked out across the water. Since she and the others arrived here last week, life had been good, but she hadn’t done a great job collecting information. Only fleeting rumors reached her ears about red-clad Consuls, or entities powerful enough to be considered Guardians. Plus, it seemed like the Mafia had been getting bolder ever since she arrived. Nadia rubbed the bruise on her chin. She bet they had Juri to thank. They’d met -and, of course, fought- several times already, and while Nadia generally got the better of her rival, Juri sure hadn’t made it easy. Hopefully the overgrown delinquent wouldn’t show up today, but it was shaping up to be one hell of a night either way.

Nadia took a deep breath, then put on her best smile. At a nod from Bancho, she jogged over to throw open the front door. “Welcome to Bancho Sushi!” she sang, giving the crowd an eyeful as she bowed with a playful expression. “Where we always let the good times ‘roll’!”



Floating high above the Sandswept Sky’s eastern coast, the airborne realm of Skyworld took the form of a gargantuan array of interconnected sky islands, sprawled out both horizontally and vertically, their mountainous landmasses of pale stone contrasted against the rich yellows and oranges of lush, perennially autumnal foliage. A number of the islands featured a more natural appearance, with pools of pristine water, golden grasses, and placid herbivores interspersed among their untouched deciduous sentinels. Most, however, featured at least some semblance of deliberate masonry, and many of the largest islands featured architectural achievements of astonishing size and grandeur. Holy spires, breathtaking cathedrals, and lovely temples could be found all over, surrounded by elaborate monuments and serving as the centerpieces of angelic colonies of a uniform Greco-Roman style. Over everything towered several minor erdtrees, the most massive of which could be found on the centermost and largest sky island of all, Eden, surrounded by concentric rings of idyllic waterfall terraces.

The outlying forested islands, where the high-altitude winds sang through birches decked out in fall colors and past all manner of intricately-carved monuments, offered plenty of diversion for a wandering eye. Their inhabitants included curious egg-shaped paissa, mischievous gaelicats, two-faced remlits, eerie seraphaces, and moody bansheep, all going about their business in beauteous harmony beneath a slow sprinkle of falling golden leaves.

As divine as it all looked, especially that immense tree with its luminous boughs, this was no perfect paradise. Its many fortified bastions, ramparts, and winged soldiers spoke of plentiful turmoil, and nowhere seemed more active than the acropolis stronghold of Palutena’s Temple, sheltered beneath the wings of the goddess of light herself. The reason for this militance could be found just by looking around, for not all of the archipelago’s islands were autumnal parks or angelic townships. In sharp contrast, some of them -on the far side opposite Eden and Palutena’s Temple- were stained pitch-black and sickly yellow-green, infested and overgrown by some form of inky, oozy corruption with a tendency to form crystalline deposits and eye-like growths. So vile and virulent were these organic structures that one could scarcely imagine what might lurk deep within the throbbing hearts of those infected zones. From afar it could be hard to make out the details, but even at a distance this corruption inspired a strong aversion in anything healthy and/or holy.

Such was the danger posed by this pitch-black contagion that its presence redefined Palutena’s forces, demanding a drastic overhaul of the army to combat the plague’s monstrosities. Every thoroughly-drilled, well-armed squad featured at least one formidable Feathershield, each possessed of brawn as grand as his sterling silver armor and a towering greatshield polished to a mirror sheen. In their company one could find a selection of gallant Featherswords, keen Featherbows, and slight Featherstaffs, all wearing either helmets or silvery masks, while cherubim filled out the ranks. Rarer but more impressive still were the elites, the Storm Wardens with wings of light and heavy cannons, as well as the Champions so heavily armed and armored that they might as well have been holy mechs. Captains like the stern, unflappable Fodoquia and the honorable but formidable Nathaniel commanded entire battalions of winged soldiers, and oversaw the operation of holy siege weapons like ballistae at tactical positions around the quarantine zones. Of course, nobody was busier than Palutena’s direct subordinates, the dutiful, fearless Uriel and the energetic, dependable Pit, even if the young angel wasn’t quite as his goddess remembered him.

Tonight, as the colors of sunset began to stretch across the boundless sky, tensions were especially high among the cohorts and contractors of Palutena’s Army. Since the arrival of a handful of capable warriors last week, the goddess of light had spurred her forces forward in an aggressive initiative to push back and cleanse the corruption, and they’d managed to gain a lot of ground. Now, only a handful of the sky islands remained in the plague’s ink-black grip. Unfortunately, the corruption was reacting like a cornered beast, stoked into a frenzy by the threat of extirpation. New kinds of horrors had been rising from the depths of the murky more, each more powerful and twisted than the last. Most worrisome of all were the corrupted angels, some former soldiers fallen to the evil taint, and some that had never once been something holy–just fleshy abominations hidden within bodies of gleaming gold and pure-white marble, each one capable of triggering a new outbreak if its deception went unnoticed. Given the threat posed by these new false angels, the decision came down from Palutena to push forward in an all-out offensive to eliminate the corruption and its horrors once and for all.

With a fully manned defensive perimeter already established around the infested islands, the main assault force now congregated at a checkpoint, that being the foot of the majestic Crystal Spire just beyond the Coliseum. Ahead of this point of no return floated the ominous Ivory Citadel, first of the infected islands, but any bridges connecting it to more wholesome landmasses had long since been destroyed.



In the northern reaches of the World of Light mainland, further still than the Forbidden Kingdom that lay between the frigid winterlands or Midgar’s wartorn valley, lay a wild and untamed borderland of jungles and giants that only ended where the mind-numbing Transmission began, giving way to the bleak dereliction of the pale city’s hinterlands. There, beyond the Forbidden Kingdom’s fields of rolling gold and temperate forests sprawled the arid Tyrannian Plateau, home to mammoth monsters of prehistoric origin, and untamed tropical forests richly sustained by the faintest aftershocks of the monsoons that pounded the Garbage Wastes.

Of course, even in a wilderness such as this, bastions of civilization still stood, and none stood taller than the acropolis city of Meridi-at-han. Equal parts fortified citadel and flourishing city-state, it towered above the land of jungles and rivers atop its central mesa, connected to a handful of outlying spires by bridges of astonishing scale. The city’s colorful buildings dared to rise even higher, stacked atop one another like a child’s building blocks, and over it all reigned the grand pink parapets of the Palace of the Sun, from which the Satrap and his Sun-Court ruled. After being denied access to the elevators and instead climbing up the interminable staircase from the port at the river’s edge, newcomers could pass beneath the hot and piercing gaze of the all-seeing eye that adorned the city’s main gate, and step into a fragrant haze of sweet incense and acrid smoke. Within lay dense, noisy, and colorful market streets, alive with the shouts of merchants and lively melodies accented by the patter of dancers’ feet that, like the silken tapestries that hung overhead, swayed to the rhythm of the winds.

After losing track of time in the city’s bustling heart, a visitor could climb higher to the balconies and hanging gardens of the upper district, where they could be enchanted by the movement of countless kites that schooled and darted like so many fish, and the flight of pink flamigos over the sparkling waters.

As with most nights, a certain man could be found in an open-air tavern overlooking Meridi-at-han’s mercantile center, leisurely seated at a corner table and watching the steady procession of cityfolk through the marketplace below. Standing at six foot eight and weighing almost five hundred pounds, with hairy forearms thicker than many folks’ midsections, he was a giant of a man with a strongman’s physique despite the age evident in his creased features and graying blonde beard. He wore somewhat militaristic formal attire with a rustic flair, such as metal skulls and horseshoes in place of typical accessories, and the contents of the huge coffin that laid by his feet was a topic of much debate among the regulars here, although few dared to disturb him. Even if the locals didn’t feel inclined to talk to him, though, Goldlewis Dickinson was happy just to listen–that was why he was here, after all.

Over the course of his stay in Meridi-at-han, Goldlewis had kept his ear to the ground in order to try and ferret out certain details of the surrounding region, and he’d managed to learn a great deal. For one, no living soul could head too far north without succumbing to the eerie Transmission that emanated from the City Without a Name, which struck him as the perfect defense mechanism for hiding something -or someone- of vital importance. Meanwhile, rumors suggested that the Guardian of the Frozen Highlands to the west roamed his region freely, fearless thanks to what seemed to be complete invincibility. As for the Forbidden Kingdom to the south, all signs pointed to Esaka, the Tiered City, where it was said that talented martial artists gathered to do battle in spectacular tournaments.

Of course, in addition to all those tasty nuggets of information, Goldlewis took the chance to savor local cuisine. For dinner today he’d ordered a gilded tajine, a simmer stew of spiced meat flower petals, and herbs hidden beneath the hat-like lid of a peculiar pot. It went well with a strong beer, so it was shaping up to be a nice evening.

That said, the army veteran kept a wary eye on one part of the scene down below. With the sun beginning to set over the Tyrannian Plateau, an infamous band had seemingly emerged from the shadows to begin setting up shop in an open plaza, sending excited whispers flying amongst the populace, and for good reason. Even in the relatively short time Goldlewis had been staying here, he’d heard plenty of rumor about a traveling caravan of masked but clearly inhuman performers who arrived in various towns and villages when night fell, speaking strange tongues and strumming strange instruments as a circus tent took shape amidst their mysterious wagons. Some looked forward to the arrival of the Grimm Troupe as an invitation to a night of enchanted revelry, while others warned of it as an omen of imminent calamity, citing the darkness left in the wake of the itinerants’ departure. Already a handful of spear-wielding guards in intricate blue outfits could be seen not-so-subtly hanging around the area, watching the enigmatic insects as they worked, but without any wrong committed so far they could not take action. At one point a guard captain had approached and demanded to speak to the troupe’s master, giving Goldlewis a very brief view of the grass-cloaked, scarlet-eyed Grimm himself, though he was much too far away to hear anything. With plenty of eager bystanders nearby, the guard captain couldn’t reach a conclusion, and Grimm vanished again as suddenly as he came. At this point it looked inevitable that the Troupe would get to perform, though what that might entail Goldlewis hadn’t the slightest idea.

He looked away, drinking deep from his glass. If it wasn’t going to be a nice evening, at least it would be an interesting one.

---

Juri Han was good at a lot of things. But the thing she was best at was crime. Turns out, she was the hardest criminal in this entire city, so it made her work a lot easier and lot more fun. It wasn’t that much of a step up from Carnival Town, unfortunately, but it was enough to sate her boredom. And now she was really getting paid, and they even gave her a big gun, which was currently strapped over her shoulder. One of those old school American type guns, big and loud. Probably not the most effective tool in her toolkit, but certainly an entertaining noisemaker and more than capable of blasting some holes should the need arise. The identical mafia goons were easy to boss around. This was the ideal place for Juri, a freelancer with authority! She didn’t take orders from anyone without getting paid by the act, but actually trying to be a responsible leader was just way too boring.

Juri had kept to herself from the others, to the degree that one might suspect she had just hitched a ride to find a new place to commit crimes. As she carried out various deeds for the Mafia, she ran into Miss Fortune a few times and they got to play on opposite teams. Why the Seekers went to Mafia Town and chose to still be goodie two-shoe salary workies, she literally couldn’t even imagine. It was fun to break stuff, steal stuff, and earn a boat load of cash in the process. Money was going to be important on this little adventure. Money was the multiversal language. Info, supplies, equipment, weapons, vehicles, bribes… all of it.

But despite doing her own thing and even actively attacking any of the Seekers who got in the way of her mafia business, she was still taking her job seriously. This was all in the pursuit of not just a good time, but finding the Guardian. At least, certainly more seriously than that goober Miss Fortune, who Juri was currently coming to visit. She figured the other Seekers wouldn’t be too far. She had a potential Guardian lead she thought was worth looking into. As far as rumors and intel went, nothing beat the criminal underground. The cops are always trying to play catch up with what the crooks of the world already know. There were underground cooking rings here, using ingredients from endangered and rare species. Poachers and pirates came and went, and when their palms were greased they spoke of a gargantuan bird. It was spotted in the distance in the Twilight Forest, easily large enough to blot out the sun, or so they said. That area’s Guardian hadn’t been eliminated from what Juri heard in the meeting. And so far a lot of them had been big scary monsters. A massive bird fit that description. Needless to say, she was pretty smug about hearing that little tidbit, so she was eager to share it with the other Seekers.

Juri’s hair was still in its new asymmetrical undercut ponytail hairstyle inspired by Sombra, and her slightly darkened skin tone had only tanned further. Her outfit had changed as well to fit the maritime mood. Though Juri’s idea of swimwear seemed to be some kind of leather biking outfit but without the pants. There was the crowd of simple minded townsfolk, and then there was the space around Spider, like she might bite out at them if they accidentally touched her. Which was only a partial exaggeration of the imagination, really.

”Oh, boy, I can’t wait.” Juri said with a grin, her voice carrying through the bustle of the crowd as she pushed her way inside. ”I want somethin’ fresh and spicy!” She demanded, taking a seat on a barstool. Obviously, she was going first. None of the other customers were going to object.

”Then maybe we can chat business on your-” She stifled a laugh. ”On your lunch break.” She giggled. Clearly amused at the prospect of Fortune working a regular job.

”The customer is always right, y’know.” She said. ”So I better not see any hairballs or hair strands or anything gross like that.” She wagged her finger. ”And when I say spicy, I mean spicy. ” Juri leaned over the bar.

”...But not too spicy.” She added, cheekily, sitting back down. Apparently done with her order, she tapped her hands and looked around at the place. All the ingredients here were found in the magic hole that was too stupid to make up its mind as to what kind of ocean it wanted to be. This place would need to up its military force if it didn’t want some serious pirates to roll in and claim the place for itself. But maybe this stupid ‘endless conflict’ Galeem had put all its stooges up to meant that nothing actually changed…what a joke!

The Spider was no one’s action figure. Juri would never abide by such a thing, so her conviction for being with the Seekers were real, even if her methods and attitude might leave a bit to be desired.

As twilight descended upon the Crystal Spire, so too did its princess. Though born on dragon wings, adorned with armor of blood and gold surrounded by black cloth, the princess did have one thing that made her fit in with the heavenly host.

Her new lyre.

Admittedly she wasn’t very good with it yet, at least when it came to playing actual music. Her recently discovered hearing issues certainly weren't helping with that. Still the angels she had been working alongside this last week had not complained, for thorough the more or less on a whim fusion with the beautiful Norah had ironically not given her an ear for the melodic, it had given her a power entirely suited to war.

---

friday night

The princess and her flock wheeled through the skies towards a group of angels returning from the front. Their timing was odd, as was their low flight path that kept them out of sight of the battlements of the floating city, but it was hardly unheard of apparently. Their mission might have run long and their exhaustion could have been dragging them down.

Still, in light of the first devastating outbreak of corruption within the city walls, Midna had been requested to switch over from her old task of from simply saturation twilight volley bombing islands to acting as part of a newly formed night watch who were on the lookout for infiltrators. With darkness adapted eyes, she certainly was more suited to it than the day loving angels, but it was playing hell with her sleep schedule and ability to socialize with the other seekers.

Still, in this moment, it might all prove to have been a necessary sacrifice as she swooped down towards the group, a squad of the silver clad feathers following in her wake.

”Or this could have all been a waste of time” she groused openly, only for her eyes to lock onto what by its weapon should have been the feather-staff in the squad they were approaching, but as they got closer she could see it was anything but.

The figure, with feathers, gleaming armor, and hovering halo, might well be mistakable for an angel, but it was avian in nature rather than being a winged human, which most certainly put it out of place amongst skyworld’s ranks. It wasn’t alone either, as two more of the avian angels were among the company, their more compact weapons and sticking close to the squad’s feather-shields causing them stand out less among the others.

A strum of the lyre she’d taken into battle was all the warning her squad (who’d she’d had since day 2 of her time here) needed to take up a battle formation, and just in time too.

At the sight of them approaching, rather than call out a greeting, the opposing squad’s feather bows drew, notched, and let fly a volley of arrows towards them. Their motions in doing this however were jerky and clumsy, as if being puppeted rather than acting under their own control. This slowed them down, which, combined with Midna’s musical warning, meant that rather than strike down her squad the arrows to slam into Midna and her squad’s 2 feather-shields’ shields as the other feathers moved to take cover behind them.

As the arrows harmlessly fell away, Midna strummed strings on her lyre that had begun to glow the moment they had hit the shields, leading her to play a tune that caused the musical instrument to shoot out trios of musical bolts at one in three of the opposing bows. These joined the cactus needles her flygon was unleashing in a similar retaliatory volley in response to her being struck, and together they sought to make a stinging point.

Trying to hurt a princess’ people came with consequences.

”Return fire!” Midna commanded as she played, prompting their shield wall to split apart, and allowing their own bows to lose their own volley into the far less coordinated opposing squad.

Musical bolts, needles and arrows struck the opposing feathers, their shields doing nothing to protect them and instead being physically dragged by the avian angels to protect them and only them. As a result the shots struck several of the enemy feathers, but when they did they did not flinch in pain or cry out in fear. Instead black sludge seeped from their wounds as the reanimated puppets of the corruption surged forwards to attack their former comrades.

”Hold!” Midna commanded her squad, before moving to the front of them and ordering her flygon to ”Bug Buzz them!”

The charging corrupted feathers ran into a wall of ear splitting sound, black ooze dripping from their ears, skin splitting and feathered ripped loose to reveal the rot within as the flygon unleashed the high pitched wall of insectile sound upon them.

It would have shattered a mortal charge, but the puppets merely faltered for a moment, before they pushed on heedless of their wounds. That reaction would in turn have shattered the nerve of a mortal company, but with unshakable faith, the feathers merely unleashed a battle cry of “For Father!” and counter charged.

Swords and shields clashed while feather staffs cast supportive spells of healing despite the dark smothering their day empowered miracles. In the skies, there were no neat battle lines however, especially with how the two sides looked far too similar to each other in the dark, and so the fighting quickly devolved into a chaotic and confusing mess where it was hard for the faithful to tell friend from foe.

But not for Midna.

Her shield crashed into the side of a black bleeding feather sword, crippling its wing and sending it plummeting down towards the waters far below, while her flygon’s talons lashed out, cutting another down.

All the while she kept playing, every third block or bloody wound her troops made or received resulting in their attacker being hammered by a musical might that had no difficulty telling friend from foe.

”Hold fast, stick together! Let my song strike them down!”

In a twist of fate however, she was not the only one with magical music. Her bows, unable to fire into the melee for fear of striking their friends in the back, moved up and around it in order to take shots at the corrupted counterparts who had no such qualms. When they did however, a pair of trumpets sounded, building up in intensity till the pair of non staff wielding avian angels fired large pink and gold orbs from their instruments. Combined with the shields guarding them and the arrows of the corrupted feathers adding to their firepower, the feather-bows quickly found themselves in a losing battle.

So Minda intervened.

She broke out of the melee and blasted down towards the corrupt ranged forces. Arrows flew and trumpets sounded in response to her charge. However, the flygon barrel rolled and weaved, while the princess shielded herself and played a song of consequences for every blow that did land as sand poured from the twilight realm to sing a song of incoming pain that could not be stopped.

”You will be swept away!”

The sand storm struck a few moments before she did, grains sandpapering away feathers and skin, before the princess herself arrived and blew it all away with the force of her arrival, for she did not arrive alone. A pair of portals opened, launching her wolfos and darknut out of them, both boosted to titanic proportions. The beast slashing and bit at the bows, while the undead knight delivered a sky shattering cleave that sliced a corrupted shield in half, before both dropped down into portals rather than plummeting down into the drink below.

Midna’s strike was no less devastating, shadow hand smashing out in a wide angle slap, breaking through the corrupted feather shield’s defenses and launching it clear away from the avian angel, onto which her flygon pounced, tearing away its marble armor facade and truly exposing the nightmare within.

”Disgusting”

Then she was away, rising up and away as the storm closed back in, smothering and blinding the shattered remains of the corrupt ranged forces. Yet rather than victory cheers Midna’s accent ran into screams that the sound of her own assault had rendered her already poor hearing deaf too.

Rather than protect the ranged angels, or provide support to its fighters like the feather staff it was imitating, the final angel had charged the way she had come. Now, ash and spirits of feather swords falling around it, the avian angel was buckling the defenses of a feather shield with repeated unholily strong cleaves of its leathery sharp staff top, heedless to the musical bolts hammering into it and the shields own attempts to stab it.

”Dive, get clear of it!” she commanded, right before the spike of the avian angel’s weapon skewered right through the feather’s shield, tip stopping an inch from his visor slit. Credit to him, the shield barely flinched, and immediately abandoned his breached defense, raising two feet up and kicking off the back of his shield before dropping like a stone to do as she’d commanded.

The remaining swords also fell back, the action signaling out the few remaining corrupt from the righteous and allowing them to turn on them while the angel reached up and ripped the stuck shield off of its weapon. It then barely reacted as a volley of arrows from the feather bows failed to pincushion it.

”Focus on cleaning up the stranglers, I’ve got this one!” she called out, causing the avian’s eyes to snap to her.

As the bows turned and started to pick off the sand storm blasted survivors of the corrupt ranged forces, the avian cried out a screeching warcry, the first sound the otherwise silent forces of the corruption had made, and dove towards her, heedless of the scorching purple dragon’s breath her flygon blasted up at it.

The avian angel pulled its weapon back, and then swept it in an arc towards Midna’s unshielded side, only for her to roll her beast’s flight so she was upside down and could block the bow with her shield, earning it nothing but a retaliatory needle barrage for its efforts. She and it spun away from each other, banking around for another pass. She lashed out with a shadow fist strike on that, which it blocked with the wide flat of its staff head, before retaliating with a claw swipe that gouged a cut into her flying steed.

Again, song and needles only scratched its marble armor, and so as they closed to clash a third time, Minda committed to the strike with all that she could. She swept her shadow hand over head, but rather than in a slap or punch, the hand closed around the hilt of a blade, before ripping the several meter long sawblade covered the Dead End Express out of the twilight realm in a crescent moon strike, and slamming it down on top of the avian angel.

”Get shredded!”

The saws on the weapon once wielded by the angel’s kind’s nemesis ripped and tore, stripping away the foe’s armor and exposing its fleshy insides. Yet the massive strike wasn’t without consequence, as the princess herself lost her one handed grip on her steed due to the sheer mass and momentum of the mighty blow, and was sent plummeting towards her enraged foe.

Rather than panic, she released the weapon and her shield, sending both spinning into portals, and then, still playing her lyre, unleashed a cyclone dive kick she’d charged with her sandstorm, slamming into her foe and stunning it for five seconds. More than what she needed to grab onto it, crescent moon slash and then stab a serrated blade straight into its monstrous neck.

”Choke on it”

As it turned to ash below her, she went into freefall, down down down towards the sea below, sailing past where the feathers were working together to take down the heavily damaged avian angels. The one stripped of its armor fell with relative ease, arrows skewering corrupt flesh till it was overwhelmed, while the feather blades hacked away at its wings of the more intact one and remaining barrier bearing feather shield kept its focus, enduring its powerful claw strikes.

Soon enough it would fall too, but Midna would not be joining it in the drink below, for the feather shield who had lost his bulwark before dove down after her, joined hands with her, and then slowed her fall enough that she could land back on her steed without shattering her bones on impact.

---

back in the present

In the end, it had been a victory, but far from a bloodless one. It also had not been the most hard fought of such actions either, as each day the night attacks grew more and more bold and dangerous.

There wasn't much of her squad left at this point.

So she should have been in full support of pushing forwards and breaking the corruption for good before things got any worse, and yet.

And yet...

She remembered her dream, where victory in the dead zone had merely meant that D would come to destroy the victor inorder to start the cycle again. She remembered the news of the state of Peach’s castle they’d gotten, flame clock drained, no life left due to their ending of the conflict there.

”Is us being here, doing this, just making things worse?” she asked the others who had gathered for the attack. She’d picked the top of the the stands for their reunion point, one that they overlook the forces as they gathered, and conveniently give them something else to watch as people sparred down below if they didn’t want to stare at their destination hanging in the distance.

”The corruption’s spitting out more and more horrors in response to us breaking the equilibrium, and if we do fully shatter it, then death still comes here, one way or the other”

The evening was quick to set in on this particular day; the cloud cover previously sprawling across the subdued sky now parting to reveal a sunset horizon of lavender, tangerine, and peace hues. Away from the clinking of silverware and tantalizing aroma of various cuisines emanating from the town center, a lone male figure leaned against the safety railing that overlooked the entryway to the port harbor; clad in a bulky, form-fitting grey bodysuit with two handguns nestled within beige holsters fastened at his hips. The man's enigmatic appearance only served to deepen if one took a closer look at him. His face was rough, scarred and weathered from various engagements- one of which cost him his left eye as a black eyepatch was secured around his head up and underneath the base of a short ponytail of dark brown hair. Yet perhaps the most interesting feature, and the one that could inspire fear and also single him out of a crowd, was the large titanium carbide coverings fixated to the upper left side of his head; acting as protective sheaths to secure the jagged shrapnel still embedded within his skull. Unfortunately, this unwilling accessory gave him the appearance of having a horn. It was an ugly fixture, yet it served to remind him of how he came to be, and who he was now.

His remaining ocean-blue eye reflected the tranquility of the night's atmosphere, finally finding a brief moment of R&R as he dipped his head to glance over at a pouch that rested near the edge of his suit's side webbing. Reaching a red metallic hand down to fish through the pouch, he retrieved a short metal cylinder as he popped the cap off the end, stuck it in his mouth and inhaled as the tip lit up a bright crimson red. The man exhaled the herbal smoke out the other side of his mouth, and continued staring out into the glistening docks, lost in thought. The Mafia, though relatively harmless as far as he observed, ran through that dock with a smattering of goods. The days only changed in appearance, yet each was prescribed with the same set of events. Someone gets over-confident and attempts raiding one of the port crates, or perhaps even more brazenly, a whole damn cargo ship. Mafia promptly goes on alert, and almost always looks to him to apprehend the perpetrator- if only for how skilled he gets it done. It was a little monotonous, yet it put blood money in his pocket all the same.

Another puff from his cigar, and the world felt brighter. The ritual of his evening unwind was something he'd found to start making routine when day turned to night, and people were put off enough by his appearance to usually stay away. Usually. There was one person here who he'd seen on occasion, yet never met officially or on a call to action. A hyper-muscular man who wore the tight latex-like outfit of a comic book superhero; a bizarre uniform of white armored shoulder pauldrons against a blue suit body and red knee-high boots. Or, were they gold? He'd swear the man would swap them out every so often. Those white triangle-like markings for eyes on his mask would seem to shift with his expression, even if he never moved his mouth beyond a stoic frown. He didn't get the man's name in passing, yet the Boss had seen him enough to know he would be sure to be encountering him again.

Which is precisely why the nature of this particular night felt different with each passing second..

Earning pons was slow going at first, but by Day 2, Captain Falcon had already begun to become known as one of the best cyclists working for Crazy Eats. But while his skills as a racer lent themselves well to the demands of a stunt-riding delivery person, the actual payout of the job was admittedly suboptimal. What Cap really needed was to find where the bounties were posted. Even in a town run by a Mafia - harmless as they mostly were - there surely had to at least be an occasional call for certain people to have a price on their heads. It was incredibly fortunate for the Captain that the person he was looking for just so happened to be the owner of the restaurant he had first entered on the day he initially arrived in town.

A former mafia boss himself, Tianyou Zhao had essentially given that life up some time ago under circumstances he had so far chosen not to share. Instead he was more interested in cooking and making You Tian the best restaurant in town. It was merely poor timing that he happened to be out at the time Falcon first showed up. Despite his mafia days being put behind him, Zhao had no problem pegging Captain Falcon as a bounty hunter. And on the night of the second day since Cap’s arrival, the two actually met for the first time when the Captain came into You Tian for dinner that evening.

“C’mon, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re a helluva lot more than just some delivery boy.” Zhao had told Falcon when he served him the meal. And so this got the two chatting about what kind of work Cap actually specialized in: Bounty Hunting - at least when he wasn’t winning Grand Prix trophies that is.

Despite keeping his own restaurant completely above board, Zhao still occasionally found himself having to butt heads with Mafia Cooks attempting to run their lousy rackets in his little corner of town. As far as Zhao was concerned, Mafia presence was simply bad for business and would drive his actual paying customers away. So he enticed Falcon with a little job offer. He could point the Captain in the direction of some baddies that needed to be taken down, and pay him a bounty to make them go away. Simple, but at least it was a start. Starting out, Zhao was mostly interested in cleaning up his own street where You Tian was located, but then he started showing interest in maybe trying to clean up other parts of town as well.

Of course, Falcon knew he had to avoid becoming too infamous. The Seekers here were supposed to be keeping a low profile after all. Not that Juri ever seemed to care. In fact she was half the reason the Mafia of Cooks had started to ramp up their own operations at times and when that happened, Falcon was usually the one to have to remind her that they shouldn’t be getting too ambitious with their activities. Again, not that she cared. About the only language he could get her to understand was with his fists. Still, this at least allowed the two to act as a sort of check and balance against each other. Juri’s presence with the Mafia ensured that someone like Falcon would always be needed to keep them from going out of control, and it would also simultaneously ensure that they would be able to bounce back and not be wiped out or something. In other words, in a roundabout way the status quo was being maintained - for better or worse.

All of that led to this evening, nearly a week after Falcon’s arrival to Mafia Town. Earlier today, he’d received another job from Zhao, but this one wasn’t like any of the others. Falcon wasn’t here at the port harbor to actually take anyone down that night. Rather, he was there simply to confirm the presence of a specific individual. As for why Zhao didn’t want Falcon to take any action against him yet, well, he didn’t really say. The best explanation that Cap got was that Zhao wanted to be absolutely sure it was really him before he did anything else. Falcon couldn’t begin to imagine what made this guy so different from previous targets. It felt like he was doing detective work more than anything. But still, jobs were jobs.

Falcon stood a few dozen meters away from the harbor’s entrance. He’d stopped before getting too close in order to formulate some kind of plan of approach. From what Zhao said, the harbor was run pretty much in its entirety by the Mafia of Cooks. So for the guy who’s been spending the past four days or so being a thorn in their side to just brazenly walk up to the front door was probably not the best idea. On a normal job, he wouldn’t have minded just kicking the door down, as it were. But this was not a normal job, and in fact was going to require some degree of stealth. And that was when an idea began to form in the Captain’s head. What if instead of approaching as a bounty hunter, he approached instead as a delivery guy?

And so, minutes later, Falcon found himself on duty for Crazy Eats. He had changed into his crazy eats uniform, and this time even left his helmet behind so he wouldn’t be immediately recognizable. If he could concentrate his deliveries to the harbor and pier, that would give him license to roam around the sector without raising any eyebrows and keep an eye out for Zhao’s target at the same time. And besides, evening and night time deliveries tended to pay extra, so a few more pons on the side certainly wouldn’t hurt anything, either.

The only thing Falcon might have to worry about is the attention he might draw toward himself while performing bike stunts. But since Crazy Eats was a pretty commonly used service all around Mafia Town, he was hopeful he wouldn’t look too out-of-place.

Sunday Evening

As she finally returned to her private quarters after a difficult battle on one of the islands further afield from Skyworld, Edelgard sighed. Every battle was long and hard-fought, especially those farther on the periphery from the heart of Lady Palutena’s power. It wasn’t often she sent any of her Lieutenants as far as they had gone, especially given that the Corruption seemed to be fighting them harder and harder lately. But when she did, it was for good reason. Reports of strange, new Corrupted had been cropping up, and Edelgard had volunteered her unit to investigate.

Corrupted angels. Edelgard shuddered at the implications. Worse still was that there were two kinds. If it had only been the mockery simulacra that appeared, it would have been bad enough. To have their soldiers’ likeness imitated, insulted by those monsters. But no. No, the Corruption, whatever was at its heart, if it had some intelligence, that was, had taken actual angels. Soldiers of Lady Palutena’s Skyworld, and twisted them for its own disgusting ends. A new, hot burst of fury grew inside Edelgard’s chest, but she shook her head and took a deep breath. No need to get angry now. She and her unit had cut down more than their fair share of Corrupted. They were fighting this war, and fighting it damn well.

She sat upon her bed and rested her head in her hands. This war seemed to have no end, but even still, they would fight. They were the holy host of Lady Palutena. Her resolve burned deep in her heart. Edelgard would not let the people of Skyworld down. She was a warrior, and failure was not something she would tolerate, especially not from herself.

---

Monday Morning

As the assault force gathered, Edelgard stood before her platoon of angelic forces. ”Black Eagle Strike Force!” She called, and her angels stood at rapt attention. ”Today, we will fight in an all-out offensive gathered by our Lady Palutena! Today, we shall beat back the Corruption, and destroy its taint on her lands once and for all! We must be at our best today, and do Lady Palutena proud!” The assorted angelic soldiers all raised their weapons in the air and cheered, garnering a nod from Edelgard.

”You may rest and congregate amongst the others until it is time for us to move. At that time, I expect you all to return to formation and join me in our assault. Dismissed!” At her command, they separated into smaller groups, talking excitedly and nervously amongst themselves about the upcoming battle. She knew that many of these angels would not see the end of the day, and though that saddened her, it was the harsh reality of war. Their efforts would see it ended on this day, or at the very least, they would push the Corruption back further than it had been before. She had no doubts of Lady Palutena’s faith in them all, or in the necessity of this attack, as bloody as it would be for their forces.

As her own people congregated, Edelgard sought to do the same, looking for the recent additions to Lady Palutena’s forces, and her favored captain, Pit. She had been rather busy since their arrival, and had not been able to make time to properly greet them. If they were going to fight together, it was high time she did so. Approaching the group, and having missed Midna’s lament, she gave the Twilight Princess and her companions a nod.

”Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I am Edelgard Von Hresvelg, one of the Lieutenant’s of Lady Palutena’s forces, and leader of the Black Eagle Strike Force. I thought it prudent to introduce myself before the coming battle, so that we might familiarize ourselves with one another’s capabilities and battle tactics. I, personally, utilize a combination of physical and magical attacks, and have composed my platoon of a well-rounded group of soldiers to compliment that versatility. Should you require it, I am capable of performing basic healing with my magic as well, though I must warn you that I am limited by both quality and the quantity when it comes to healing magic.” Looking to the others, she gave a stilted smile and a curt nod.

”And Captain Pit. I’ve heard much about you from Lady Palutena. I look forward to seeing you live up to her praise.” The compliment was direct, but pointed and conditional, with a very subtle implication that failing to live up to that praise would have dire consequences.

It had been about a week since Therion had arrived in Mafia Town, alongside Juri, Ms. Fortune, and Captain Falcon. While he hadn't gone out of his way to avoid the other three, he usually only saw them when they met for a meal. Otherwise, he operated separately, doing his own thing. Most days were the same; in the mornings he'd make a few rounds to key spots in town, and by now he knew the places inside and out. His ears were always perked, catching the gossip and chatter of people discussing the last few days... which was how he'd learned about what his comrades were getting up to. After swiping breakfast for himself, and sometimes lunch, he'd restock his cache of pons for his nightly activity.

He spent nearly every night at a bar right on the shore, an old ship apparently having missed the docks and run aground a long time ago called The Rusty Rudder. It's clientele were dockworkers, sailors, and even some of the Mafia's goons - rough and tumble types that weren't shy about their conversations. It was, in Therion's opinion, the ideal place to overhear rumors and gather leads. So he became a regular, sometimes buying a round for the bar and sometimes sitting tucked away at a table and just listening in. Though he didn't have any solid leads just yet, he had managed to get some interesting information out of the place and it's patrons.

...but that wasn't where he currently was.

"If it ain't my new favorite stick-in-the-gunk," a light voice touched with an accent said as Therion pushed through a pair of saloon doors into Bottom Feeders. It was on the opposite side of the port from the Rusty Rudder, and even closer to the water. Usually there would be more than a few sentient sea creatures inside, but at the moment it was just Therion and the owner, who also happened to be the crab that ran the bar.

"It's a little early. Just opened, and I don't usually see ya in here 'til late," Nemma observed. That was true; at the other place the working men practically rushed to the bar after a long day, but by nightfall most of them either had left at a responsible hour or were so deep into their cups that they spoke nonsense or got belligerent. At that time of night Therion changed venues.

"I'm not staying long," he said as he approached the counter. He never did at Bottom Feeders. Few, if any humans frequented this place - the atmosphere of the usual crustacean and other sea life patrons a bit frosty toward them. For all intents and purposes, Therion was human. At least, he still considered himself as such. He resembled a regular man, if a little on the shorter side. A head of fluffy white hair hung to his shoulders, bleeding into blue and black at the tips with long bangs covering the left side of his face. He wore a checkered scarf over a set of simple leather armor dyed purple, as well as an iron manacle on his right wrist. What might have brought his humanity into question was the set of feline ears on his head, and the matching tail. Underground, those few animal traits were enough for the citizens to consider him as a 'monster' like them. But here, apparently, it wasn't enough; and on some nights the other patrons clammed up if he sat too near.

Nemma was really the only person who would give him the time of day, and it was probably only because he was a paying customer. She had two other mouths to feed at home, he'd learned, and needed all the pons she could get if her business was going to compete with the Mafia and every other place in town. Which means I might about to become her actual favorite customer, Therion thought to himself.

"One for the road," the thief told her, not particularly picky about what drink she served him. He'd tried a lot of new ones over the last few days, including what Lakota had recommended him (which he learned was called a mojito). As she fixed him something he placed a hefty bag on the counter. Well, it was more like a burlap potato sack.

When Nemma turned around and pushed Therion's drink towards him, she eyed the bag with a little suspicion. She wasn't stupid, she could tell from the sound as he put it down what was in it. "What's all this?"

"Investment." He shrugged as he said the word, making the whole affair more casual. "So if you hear anything interesting from one of your customers... get some details and make sure to let me know."

He downed the drink quickly while Nemma accepted the money, stashing it away somewhere safe. Then Therion was back out the door and onto the streets of Mafia Town.

A heist in broad daylight was actually easier than some might think. Most people didn't expect it, so their guards were lower during the day. The same was true for the Mafia of Cooks, and they weren't exactly the brightest of gangs in the first place. Even so, it wasn't a trivial endeavor. Slipping into their headquarters, finding and cracking their safe, stealing all he could carry and then making it out without being spotted had been a fine exercise for his skills. A piece of the haul he'd given to Nemma, but he still had a lot of it - part in his hotel room, and part on his person.

Now that the sun was descending, the Mafia would probably soon find out they'd been robbed if they hadn't already. Therion was sure he hadn't been seen, but even so, he was hoping this wouldn't put him on Juri's hit list. It was possible that Juri would assume the cat burglar Ms. Fortune was the culprit and use it as an excuse to go and fight her again, in which case Therion would have to set aside a least a little of the money to give the feral by way of apology. Just a little though.

Therion left the port a little after Captain Falcon had entered it, though he he wouldn't have recognized the bounty hunter in his 'disguise' anyway. The smell of smoke drew his attention up toward the scent, where he spotted a rugged looking man with a horn protruding from his forehead leaning against a railing.

He'd seen this man around a couple of times. Not a lawman, but some kind of peacekeeper all the same. Therion hadn't spoken with him, considering the thief was committing at least one crime daily (even if it was just petty theft most of the time, except for that day), but he had registered the man as someone to keep an eye out for. He looked much more capable than a lot of others on the small island, certainly suited for more than breaking up bar fights... which meant that generally, Therion tried not to catch his attention. The same was true for today, so the thief pulled his scarf up, stuffed the hand connected to the manacle into his pocket, and curled his tail as he went.

Blazermate took a bit to get over what happened to Bowser. Although it made sense now that she thought about it, he wasn't all that smart. Hopefully he didn't turn into a consul the next time they saw her, Ganondorf would be happy about that though. Still, Mafia town was colorful, fun, although she couldn't enjoy any of the fish or cooking on display. The Mafia running the town, or so they called themselves, were pretty goofy all things considered. But from what she heard from the others who were here, their food was good.

Getting up to her own shenanigans, although they were things she wasn't all that sure were shenanigans, upon learning that the random flying blue girl robot could heal grievous wounds with ease, when she was around an area the Mafia were often emboldened to push people they normally weren't up to pushing around due to getting injured. They'd do their shenanigans, and much like they assumed, they'd get beaten up a bit, and come running to the medabot for heals so they didn't have to rest for days. While Blazermate was fine with healing what she assumed were town guards (And likewise, was often given more freedom around Mafia town than most.), she actually contributed to the crime of the city more than she thought.

Hey, at least the occasional Mafia was happy enough to pay her a tip, although that was often rare. Really the biggest boon was the fact that she could fly around the city at her leisure without being bothered too much by Mafia... well unless they needed heals of course.

---

Meridi-at-Han was a glamorous looking city, but a City non the less. Fixer work suited Roland, it was really the only thing he was good at. But that also meant he was good at a lot of things. Although he expected that this group would give him some money, apparently that wasn't the case. Instead they relied on his resourcefulness to make ends meet. Something that he at least had in spades, and as such started a new fixer office in Meridi-at-Han.

Being a city of adventurers, work wasn't really a problem. The problem was that there were also tons and tons of others looking for work and unlike the City, Roland couldn't really use his name to sell things. At this point he doubted the old grading systems even meant anything anymore which really sucked... But at least now he didn't have to call himself a grade 9 fixer anymore. And unlike many of the adventurers here, he offered something they lacked... anonymity. Anyone who saw him walking around would just assume 'hes just another guy' and wouldn't remember him once he left their sight. That and his silent movement made him one heck of an assassin. Although all that being said, he preferred to be an information broker.

While getting information took a bit, he learned much what Goldweis learned about the city to the north and the guardian of the area. Apparently that was common knowledge. But he also learned the lay of the land and what generally was in all the areas. His services on the other hand were... pretty bog standard contracts all things considered. Almost clandestine with kill 4 ogres here or 15 butterflies there... Honestly Roland was expecting way bigger jobs but there weren't Stars here. It paid the bills though and even got Roland a new weapon.



Speaking of Goldweis. When Roland went to grab a bite to eat; the one thing he loved about the city with its various delicious foods, he saw the vet looking over the balcony looking at the upcoming circus. "Hey old timer, enjoying the food?" Roland said, silently sitting next to the vet out of punching range, a plate of curry next to him. "I wonder whats going to go on with that circus. The masks I saw from a few of them kinda creep me out."

---

Being under the rule of someone else was not something Sectonia liked. But one does what one does when the only one above you is a literal god. A god that was pretty much hands off in all regards, so much so that Sectonia could at least add the details she liked to the temple. At first there were some chatter and disapproval at Sectonia summoning random crystal platforms, but once it was shown that these platforms were not only decorative, but functional as sniping positions for some angels to snipe at the corruption, as well as her own abilities made them begrudgingly accept the admittedly pretty crystals. Sectonia meanwhile aided with dealing with the corruption, or even pushing it back, with her antlers and her own abilities.

Although strong on the frontlines, Sectonia more spent her time learning about what was around the area, about powerful artifacts and other such things. Although so far she had only a couple leads and nothing concrete. As much as she'd like to research all of this, she'd oftne have to refresh her antlers who were fighting on the front lines, or use her own light based abilities while cloaked in her Chaos heart shield to push back and often gain some ground before retreating back to continue looking at what she was more interested in, power.

These last few days getting familiar with the mesa city-state known as Meridi-at-Han had been a spirited affair. Pleasant too, for the most part. The massive city was sunny and colorful, warm shadows cast by tall clay and stone buildings vibrantly painted and decorated with cloths and flags. Being up so high winds kept the city cool enough that the humidity rising from the jungle and savanna below it were tolerable, as well as pushed fragrant aromas through the streets. The city was primal but not primitive, and lively both during the day and at night. The vibe and aesthetic appealed to Primrose's sensibilities. And of course, she appreciated the culture of dance that was on display daily, on street corners and in elaborate halls.

Being a dancer herself, Primrose had no trouble immersing herself in it all. Not long into her stay she had tucked away the beautiful dress Yuria had made for her and donned something closer to her usual look, which helped her blend in. She was a tall woman, toned and completely humanoid, with a ruby adorning her forehead and a huge braid tied at the back of her head. She had no scales or horns like a portion of the city's populace, but even so she stood out a little for two reasons: the first was that she was a beauty. Light clear skin, long lashes, dark green eyes like emeralds, and a mole by her mouth, she turned heads near everywhere she went. The second reason was that her skill was a cut above many other dancers. She had danced for most of her life, for pleasure and for business, both in order to survive and in order to assure her vengeance. Here in this patchwork world, she'd been able to see the skill of other dancers first hand and pit her own against them, coming out on top. She was good at what she did, and so when she took to the streets and taverns of Meridi-at-Han as an independent dancer, she found no lack of funds, fans, and facts about the city, eagerly given by locals wanting to get to know her.

That was all well and good, but the information she was really after still eluded her. Leads on the Guardians of these areas, what they were or where they could be found... no one knew anything of the sort. That didn't come as a surprise to Primrose - the Guardians of the Sandswept Sky and the Underground had both been hidden away, confined to some prison that they'd needed Organization XIII to point out for them. Still, she had learned some interesting things; about the Consuls of the area, the functional 'capital' of the Forbidden Kingdom and its four kings, and more.

"Hey there Primrose!"

Speaking of more, that voice was a recently familiar one to her. Primrose had been descending from a high area in the city, making her way down towards the lively merchant quarter, but she turned when she heard her name. A young woman in tribal attire jogged down the stone path and kept pace beside the dancer. Kayna was a friendly face around town whenever she showed up. She'd first come to Meridi-at-Han like many before her to gain some understanding with the people that hunted and killed monsters, and found herself enjoying her time in the city enough that she made visiting a regular thing. She lived in the wilderness far below, and was happy to talk about all kinds of things that could be found in the jungles and the frontier. Roaming creatures, a witch that was a little too into dead things, and of course... a gigantic, everlasting omelette just sitting there on the Tyrannian Plateau. Primrose gave her a small smile.

"Today's flavor?"

Kayna grinned. "Spicy red pepper."

The two of them had starting talking after a chance meeting, complimenting each other's similar hairstyle. From there they went from strangers to acquaintances. Primrose couldn't truly call Kayna a friend, but she was nice to chat with. The two of them struck up an easy conversation as they walked, stopping only when Primrose noticed Goldlewis sat at a cantina nearby. He was a hard man to miss after all. As the women followed the path that took them closer, Roland surprisingly turned up as well.

Primrose had mostly kept to herself over the week. She didn't think Roland or Goldlewis were bad guys or anything, but... she still hardly knew either one of them. Rather than collaborate with them in the city she'd gone her own way, and it had worked out. The same was probably true for the both of them as well. If Roland and Goldlewis had met up to exchange information before tonight she didn't know, but since it had been a while since she spoke to them (and she could actually hear Kayna's stomach growling from the alluring smells of the dishes), Primrose steered the both of them toward the tavern.

"I hope you ordered enough for us," Primrose said, making her voice playful and silky smooth as she stepped onto the tavern's patio and approached the pair. Getting the sense that Primrose knew the men in some form (or otherwise just wrangling them some free grub), Kayna played along, putting her hands on her hips and smiling at the two - until she was quickly distracted, looking at the area below and the tents being set up. "Oh! Isn't that...? That traveling circus?"

Primrose glanced in the direction Kayna was looking. A traveling circus all the way up here? That was intriguing...

---

The city shone so brightly, like a jewel amidst the wildlands. Every wall, every edifice, was a fresh tableau of brilliant colors to bewitch the unwary eye. Any one of them alone could have been called a work of art, and taken together they became something overwhelming, a thousand-hued kaleidoscope that might leave travelers dizzy and gasping for breath beneath the unrelenting sun. This was a place of wonder, a place of luster: dancers and flowers in the streets, music and crowds and exotic scents, a dozen fresh pleasures whichever way one turned. No shadow could exist here, no place untouched by the light, for Meridi-at-Han did not permit such things.

One could be forgiven for being taken in by this illusion, so impressive was the facade.

The truth was, shadows never really went away. They just hid themselves out of sight in cracks and dark corners, down tiny back-alleys and hidden passageways. There were markets where the merchants traded meat and bone and gristle, and would shoot you dark looks if you ever asked where it all came from. There were dim and smoke-filled rooms where figures half obscured would haggle over prices, where stolen and forbidden goods could change hands a dozen times in the span of an hour. Weapons, poisons, tomes imbued with dark and malicious magics: in such shadowed places one could find the heart's every wicked desire. Even the great Meridi-at-Han could not but tolerate the vermin scurrying about its crannies, so long as all remained safely out of sight, away from the naive eyes of its numberless citizens and guests.

So it was that things most foul could find their way, time and time again, into the heart of the rainbow city. How else to explain the presence of that slight young woman, who slipped silently through the bustling crowds like a black fish through riverbed murk? Here was a shadow, sickly pale and dark of hair, entirely at odds with the beautiful metropolis all around her.

She should have stood out like a rook among songbirds, but very few gazes lingered on her for long. After all, who'd ever want to waste their time looking at such a strange and gloomy little thing, when an array of vibrant views awaited at every other angle? Maybe a few would turn their heads her way out of sheer curiosity, only to quickly avert their eyes as a chill crawled down their spines. Many would look instead to the looming figure that shambled a half-dozen paces behind her, covered from head to toe by a dirty and ragged cloak. A vile stench oozed out from underneath its hood, and the crowds parted in disgust before it, seeking refuge in the safety of their sweet incense odors.

The Witch didn't much mind the smell. It seemed a pleasant thing to her, a reassuring reminder of what she was and would one day become. She raised her head a little and took a long sniff at the air, breathed in the sweetness and the rot alike. Something else was there too, a foreign and intriguing scent that tickled at the inside of her skull.

A slow smile crept across the girl's lips. "So there are nightmares even in a place like this." Gaudy Meridi-at-Han, so confident in its own glory, even while horror festered in broad daylight upon its streets. Now that she knew, the Witch couldn't not go and take a look—the taste of darkness was irresistible to her. The fact that it might be dangerous, that horror and death might await her down this path, only made the lure all the more tantalizing in her eyes.

"Come. Let's see if this leads me somewhere interesting."

Her quiet footsteps turned a sharp corner, and the cloaked figure followed behind her like a dog. She didn't need to stop and ask for directions; intuition led her on as surely as any compass. Just as she'd wormed her way into the shadows of this towering city, so too did the Witch slither easily into the Grimm Troupe's waiting audience, close enough to get a clear look at what had piqued her curiosity.

...A circus? Her blue eyes widened in surprise. Why would anyone pitch a circus tent here, of all places? This entire town was nothing but an oversized big top, the colors stripped off the tent and layered over the countless buildings. Dancers and acrobats walked the streets, and the rest of the people did a fine job playing the part of trained animals. So much joy, so much life... And all of it so dull. She could only hope these new arrivals would put on a better show.

Perhaps she ought to give them a little help? The thought made her smile again, and hum a soft tune to herself as she slowly ambled among the gathering spectators. Her gaze roved this way and that in search of an opportunity—a way to slip unnoticed among those wagons, where she could poke about the Troupe's dark secrets as she pleased.

His friends had probably seen a lot of Pit over the week, even if only in fleeting glances as he ran to and fro around the temple and the front lines. Since arriving in Skyworld, Pit had readily thrown himself back into his life's calling: serving the Goddess of Light. Sure, he was a little different now - a bit taller, hair a bit longer with a couple of braids at the front, some color and wardrobe changes, and even some personality changes too - but he was still Lady Palutena's personal angel. And since he was no longer her only angel, he felt he had to prove to her that he was the best of them. He was captain of Palutena's guard, and resumed command of a swath of her army, which no longer was made up of only Centurions. And while at first he'd been running mundane errands for her on top of strategy meetings and fighting back the corruption, as the battles grew more fierce he dedicated himself completely to Skyworld's defense. His battle prowess, protective ferocity, and the earnest way he led his troops inspired faith in him in otherwise skeptical angels who had only heard about him before and were less than impressed with him at first.

The Seekers got to see a whole new side to the childish multiverse veteran they'd come to know. He'd tried to keep touch with them all as much as possible, especially since they were helping protect his home, but with how crazy everything had gotten with the corruption it was hard to get together sometimes. Early on, he had requested their help with one thing: freeing Lady Palutena from her Gleaming state. Specifically in making sure no one interfered while he did it himself, and be willing to step in if he failed. Even though Pit had fought Palutena before, once for fun when she joined in tournaments and once for real when she was possessed by the Chaos Kin, the battle had been rough. The Goddess of Light wielded divine power far beyond what she limited herself to in exhibition matches, and had taken full advantage of her angel's unwillingness to hurt her. Fortunately, he hadn't needed to really win against her - just weaken her enough to free her from Galeem. Thankfully, he'd succeeded. Besides when they all arrived together, that occasion had been the only one when all of the Seekers were present together at the same time... save for right now.

"Everybody ready for this?" he'd asked as the others gradually came to join him at the Crystal Spire. As for himself, he was very optimistic about their push to rid the islands of the corruption once and for all. He'd fixed each of his friends with a smile, and tried to offer some encouragement to Midna since she seemed a little on the gloomy side.

"If this is what Lady Palutena thinks is best, we have to trust her. She's always on the side of the greater good. Besides, this always happens when you corner the bad guys. And we can deal with whatever comes next, if something happens."

While they oversaw the gathering of their forces, a new face joined them - a woman in all red with a crown of curved horns upon her head. She seemed a sensible type, introducing herself as Edelgard - although with her last comment, the feathers on Pit's wings puffed up slightly and he crossed his arms. It almost sounded like she was gonna be testing him or something. Pit was confident in his skills, and he also knew that nobody was more committed to serving Lady Palutena than he was. Rather than reply immediately though, Pit instinctively reached out with his thoughts. Once Palutena had been freed, she had restored the telepathic connection between herself and her angel. It was second nature for Pit to rely on the comforting presence at the back of his mind as much as Palutena relied on Pit to enact her will - and after a moment's delay the goddess shifted her attention to Pit, and answered his silent question of who even is this girl?

That's Edelgard, Empress of Adrestia, an empire on a continent known as Fódlan. She's been a real asset here in Skyworld though. She commands a mean battalion, and that axe of hers, Aymr, is custom-made.

Whoa. So she's really strong?

Yup. On top of that, she's the bearer of not one, but two Crests.

Crests?

Where she comes from, Crests are like divine blessings, passed down through a hero's bloodline. Although, Edelgard's Crests are... They seem a bit off.

Huh, I guess you would know all about how they work if they're bestowed by a god. But what's different about hers?

It's probably not appropriate for me to say. I might have let a few spoilers slip out already.

Really?! Come on Lady Palutena, you know I hate spoilers!

Hehe, sorry Pit. Anyway, just be glad she's on this goddess' side.

He felt the buzz of Palutena's telepathy fade, though her connection to him still held strong. Now that he had a little bit of info about her, and apparently how helpful she'd been to Palutena, Pit felt less defensive. She probably really meant what she said, and he did like being called captain. He unfolded his arms, eventually grinning at the woman.

"Good, 'cause you'll have a front row seat!" he said. Everyone would, since he planned to lead the charge.

Friday, lunchtime

Dr. Amelia Yu, alien hybrid eldritch mind devouring horror and avowed vegetarian and pacifist due to her psychic empathy, halted her hand before knocking on the bedroom door. Steeled herself. Then completed the motion, wincing as each rap forcibly exposed her to the emotions locked up inside.

“Excuse me, might I come in?” she requested, before adding just a moment later (having already tried and failed this before, and having this time come with an incentive) that “I have brought you lunch” fully aware that the room’s denizens had not been eating properly thanks again to her psychic empathy.

As she’d hoped, the ‘bribe’ got her access, and her reward was the wave of dower malaise and roiling frustration that swept out of it and over her. She winced, then grinned and bore it (not that the lipless mouth behind her mask could have any other expression) and stepped on in.

The room within was a strange mix of childs bedroom and workshop, discarded toys and games scattered among tools and mechanical components. The latter of these things could have lived in any of the 4 separate rooms on the ship dedicated to all things technological, and yet the duo had more or less locked themselves inside here to tinker instead.

She didn’t know the specifics of the pair’s trip down to and then return from Camp Whispering Rock, but suffice to say it had taken the upset and betrayed feelings they’d had and made things so much worse

---

three days earlier

The two children sat on at the top of the tower they’d taken over by virtue of there now being a giant whale with gun turrets mounted on it blocking the ramp up to the top. The kids' summer holidaying at Camp Whispering Rock might have been a little weird, but they were no psychics (Galeem had put the regular deinzines of this place up in Midgar) and so there was no getting past the pair's stonewalling of them.

It was something of a self sabotaging move, because if there was one group who might be able to relate to what they were going through, it’d be kids away at summer camp, because who among them had not felt at least a little bit homesick at some point. Still, even then, who could really understand how Rika, a girl, teen, or woman with roughly a week's worth of memories she could really call her own, and a person whose was a mess of spirits all jammed into one personality that had had little foundation to build atop of, was going through.

The koopa who’d freed her both from Galeem and from the warmachine that was, or had been, the abyssal fleet, and in doing so made her a person rather than a weapon, was gone. As was the koopa who’d named her his daughter. Both off out there somewhere on an adventure with an ally turned enemy turned maybe ally again, with no idea if they’d come back, and all in the name of this thing called love she still didn’t really understand.

The two of the rocks that had held her steady in this strange new thinking existence she was in had vanished from it, and now only the smallest (or was he the largest?) remained.

Unfortunately her brother was also suffering, but at least he was used to it (or did that make what had happened worse? She didn’t know).

”Urrrrgh” the prince groaned loudly as the sun began to set on the camp, signaling their third day of waiting there, slumping back onto the spikes of his shell, tossing his arms up and declaring ”he’s done it again!”

”Does this happen a lot?” Rika asked, her arms wrapped around her knees, her mighty gauntlets sat on the deck behind her.

”Yeah. Well no? But sometimes!” the prince groaned ”Papa will just go off on some adventure or attempted conquest and won’t bring me along and its soooooooo lame!”

”This time was supposed to be different! I mean I never got to be a part of any of the times papa got to do hero stuff and save the world! But this time I was and it was so cool! We were actually winning fights and taking names and no one could stop us and it was so much better than being the bad guy who gets beat” he said, turning to his sister who didn’t really get it for validation ”Right?”

”I liked… not being part of the fleet more than being a part of it? And they were ‘bad guys’ so I think so, yes? I mean I think now and didn’t really then so that’s, um, just better by default” she replied, before sighing and saying ”I mean I owe everything to, well, Kamek for letting me be free and feel things and stuff, but now that he and papa are gone, I dunno i just feel like… empty inside again”

Her brother didn’t really know how to respond to that, empathy wasn’t exactly his strong point, but he at least got that maybe going on with his rant wasn’t the best. So he floundered, kicking his legs that were hanging off of the edge of the platform a few times, and then agreed that ”yeah, it's lame”

They sat there quietly for a bit, till they spotted movement down below, and one of the camp counselors popped into view, calling up to them to come on down from the tower now that it was getting dark. His tone indicated that he did not care a bit that they were a heavily armed boat girl and a spiky fire breathing turtle, because bedtime for children was fast approaching.

”I don’t wanna go back” Rika said quietly in response to this, not at all loud enough for the councilor to hear.

”yeah, I know, who’s he to tell us what to do!” jr agreed, misreading her reasons for this entirely.

”No I mean I don’t want to go back at all. I mean it was fun playing with the others here before when I thought we were just waiting for papa and Kamek, but if they aren't coming then… I dunno, I just… don’t think I could stand being around happy people, or to waste time playing while they’re out, doing whatever important stuff with Peach or P or whoever she is now”

”Mmm” Jr agreed. Well. Partially. He had enjoyed doing kid stuff with the campers, it’d had distracted from the looming certainty that his papa wouldn’t be coming to pick them up, but his sister had a point. They should be doing something productive, and there was nothing productive to be done here.

”Oh, I know!”

---

They’d come back after that, and jr had immediately thrown himself into work fixing up his clown car first, and then setting about working on upgrading and overhauling Rika’s gauntlets. Dr. Yu had helped with this, but her attempts at cheering up Rika as she sat about and was worked on had only managed to drive the girl away. After that the pair had been through all four of the various labs and workshops before finally ending up in their room all day for much the same reason.

Even now, as the Doctor entered the room holding the bag of the first meal they’d be having in the day, she could feel she was not wanted, and yet she approached anyway. Rika’s mood had not improved the past three days, and Jr’s had turned to obsessively tinkering and working, unable to deal with his own feelings, nor Rika’s feelings, nor his feelings about not knowing how to deal with her feelings and so using his engineering to tire and distract himself.

Given what she saw as she peered over and assessed his work, he was very much running out of things to do. The gauntlets had been a mess of fusion combined and merged components to start out with (fully articulated fingers, 2 different guns, a grappling hook, 2 hangers for scout the doctor had reverse engineered for her to replace a lost one, a magitech charge systems she did not understand) and he’d only added to them by installing the controls of 6 rocket propelled sword drones to them, but everything was all neat, tidy, and comprehended at this point.

She could tell from the blueprints, even if they themselves were a bit messy. While eyeing those, she also spotted sitting next to them sat a pair of ankle bands that (if she was reading their plans right) replicated her ship girl floatation power.

Given he’d come back to the gauntlets, and from what she could see/feel he was very much clutching at straws when it came on what else to do to them other than quadruple check everything in them, it seemed like he was out of projects. He’d probably throw himself at something at the armory next, or, worse, the ship itself. Not something you wanted someone doing while it was flying around that was for sure.

Neither of those would help the pair’s situation. Indeed this entire return to the ship plan had frankly made everything worse in the good doctor’s analysis of their moods, and so for their and everyone’s sake, they needed to be off it again. Get some fresh air. See the sun. However to suggest they do so directly would very much not work, this she very much knew thanks both to intuition and her psychic abilities, and so she set about performing the manipulations they needed.

“Hungry?” she asked as she set down the paper bag, and tactically popped it open so that the smell of the meal Bracket Brace had prepared for them specifically could waft out temptingly. The prince, leaning over the cracked open gauntlet, grunted in response, while the morose princess laying on the bed beside him said nothing at all.

Then both blinked as the smell of the hearty meal the ship's cheerful Mimiga chef had prepared for them, their mouths watered, and within moments they were chowing down on the skillfully prepared chow.

As they did so, the Doctor made an active show of looking over the gauntlets, even though she’d got most of the details at a meer glance, and then just as the satisfaction of stating their hunger was peaking she said, “Well, now that looks like quite the fine piece of work” and before the prince could swallow and respond, added the vital question of “now how are you going to test it?”

”Huh? Oh. the training room I guess?” Jr said, clearly having not actually thought about this.

“With that amount of reach?” she asked gesturing vaguely at a part of the blueprints listing the considerable distance the rocket blades could be launched out at, criticizing the idea by saying that it was “hardly the best place for it in my humble opinion” and then going for an early killshot by saying that “if you want to make sure they’re of use, I suggest getting as much space as you can when testing them out”

“Might I suggest you head on down to maffia town?” it was, out of the three places, somehow the one that she suspected was most safe. No lethal static to the north, no corruption, just blue seas and ineffectual thugs. Plus “you could make use of those new floatation devices while you are there as well. Plenty of room to test them out on the open ocean I’d think?”

She again focused on the usefulness, on the making use. That was, she correctly guessed, the prince’s motivation for focusing on working, but that work was hardly letting Rika actually feel useful, and it was draining Jr’s mental facilities to be doing it all day. That it got them out and about was the actual point, but that it lined up with what their misguided desires was what actually got them down there.

---

friday afternoon

The sun shone down upon the slowly bobbing waves of the sea just outside of mafia town, glinting off of 6 red metallic blades that were whirling around a panicking flailing figure who screaming ”ahhhh! How do I control this alllllll!” at a turtle standing on top of the water way back from his freaking out sister.

”stop waving your arms around, they're linked to those!” he called back as his sister tried to block the blades coming at her with her gauntlets despite that very move being one that sent them racing towards her.

”No no, hands away from the body!” he shouted again before realizing he could communicate it by telling her to ”think of it, like, shoving them away”

That did indeed do the trick, the princess thrusting both palms out in front of her, and sending the blades blasting off into the distance across the waves. Unfortunately it only worked for a moment as they reached their effective range, and then came blasting back again.

”no no no no stay away” their control shouted at them, before thrusting her hands ”down!” and sending all six splashing into the waves.

She stood there, panting for a moment, as the drone’s engine sputtered under the water, stopping them from returning to her, only for her to go ”oh no!” as they started to sink.

This at least jr was prepared for, it was sort of the risk of practicing over water, but they’d wisly not done this over the blue hole, so they could only sink so far. Plus he did have a way to sort things, clicking on a cassette tape to turn into the fish monstress warrior Undyne, and then as her diving into the waves after the drowning weapons.

He (as she) emerged a few moments later with the blades under her arms, and then struggled to keep a hold of them till Rika remembered she could switch them off herself.

”So, uh, that was kinda my bad” Jr admitted (to Rika’s relife) as he returned to being himself, floating upon the waves next to her on the very successful ship girl tech he’d copied from her, before suggesting ”Maybe we should start with just one?” which got him a moment of hesitation and then a nod from the ship girl.

---

That, as it turned out, had worked out far better, and as the sun set, the princess had that single claw more or less dancing to her tune. What had not been worked out, because the good doctor had not known, kids had not thought about it till it was too late, was how they were going to fund their stay here. The pair had money of course, but unfortunately for them, having absolutely piles of geo didn’t really help them when the local currency was pons.

Fortunately they found this out because a certain cat girl encountered them while returning from her daily fishing trip, and took pity on them enough to cover dinner and lend them a room to sleep over in. The only cost for this was some light pun-ishment for their lack of foresight. That and sleeping in the furniture store Nadia was squatting in, which might be fine for the street cat, but caused no end of griping from the royal prince.

In the name of getting their own room and board they’d have to engage in some child labor to pay their way through. Given their sailing skills, spear prowess, and access to a cassette beast tape and a hood that would let them both dive underwater, a fishing job seemed like the obvious choice. Well. except for the fact that their last experience with doing actual work had taught them a possibly rather poor lesson.

”That job we did transporting stuff wasn’t worth it at all, but the cheese Purse stole from it and that she gave to us was, so, shouldn’t we just do that?” Rika pointed out, referring to the time they and the aforementioned mouse girl Purse had done a delivery of cheese through a canyon, only to be attacked by rat bandits and sentient cheese revolutionaries.

”Yeah that was a rip off. I mean someone died doing it and what was it worth? nothing” Jr agreed, though this perception was maybe impacted a bit by how they’d been paid in now worthless geo ”Plus you heard how Nadia and people in Bancho Sushi were talking about this ‘Mafia’? Total bad guys. We could mess with them and people’d probably thank us!”

”Yeah. Well. except the mafia, don’t they, like, run this place? If we raid their logistics, they’ll come after us in town. Where we want to sleep and eat and stuff” Rika pointed out, brain briefly flicking to her inbuilt military thinking.

Jr ”hmmmm”ed at this for a few moments, before clicking his claws as he realized that ”Then we just need to use disguises!”

---

They’d seen the mafia fishing ships out on the water, big barges with dozens of fishers all lining the side. You could tell it was one from the single mafia mook hanging around on deck. Technically he was there to keep watch over the seas for danger, but given that this was very much a protection racket, he was mostly keeping watch over the fishers to make sure they didn’t pocket anything in an attempt to deny the mafia their 20% cut.

Said mook happened to spot a large dark shape in the water while lazing at his post, watched it for a moment, and then determined it was simply “eh, just a whale” before getting back to his actual job of people watching.

He was right about what was in the water as it turned out. The problem was that the whale was coming right at them, something which he only noticed too late.

The the Pacific Princess’s great white whale, moaby dick, beached the surface a moment later and upon its back, looking far more pirate with her eyepatch than royal guard captain, was Undyne, who lept off the back of the whale with a “nyeeeeeeh!” and landed on deck between the mafia goon and the fishers.

“Hand over the fishies, and no one gets hurt!” Undyne demanded while brandishing a spear. Behind her, the mafia mook squared up to try and sock them in the back, only for a brionne named Dazzle to corkscrew leapt out of the water and nail him with a big bubble of water, knocking him over right in time for Undyne to then turn and point the spear at the now downed mook. They cocked their head in question, and got an “ok ok, you win” from the thoroughly shamed mafia mook.

“Good. As for the rest” Undyne said, before waving a spear at the gun turrets mounted on the whale circling the ship, which quickly got her her piratical bounty of the sea, riding off into the sunset with a container of fish spirits in the whale’s jaws. As it did, two high flying bird sized scout planes followed after it, and Rika, who’d been clinging to the underside wearing the water breathing permitting blooper hood and using said planes to observe and direct their minions, joined the cassette tape disguised Jr up on top of the whale as they made for a sneaky landing spot.

Evening was setting in by the time they’d made landfall, put away their disguises, landed the scout planes and put the ocean-going mammal minions away in their pokeball/spinner. Then all they needed to do was offload their haul.

Which they had no idea how to do, because their day had been spent training and heist planning. Thus after a dinner of flame breath roasted fish they had to spend another night squatting.

Fortunately for them the next day they ran into Therion, or rather he followed gossip and rumors their failed fish selling from the previous night created in-order to find them. With his help, the duo managed to offload the remainder of their haul, learn a bit more about what was actually worth grabbing next time they did a smash and grab from the fence they sold their stock to.

As such, when Monday evening rolled around, and the duo rolled into Bancho Sushi for the first time since Nadia had fed them on the first night, their financial situation was more than good enough that they could afford to pay their own way this time.

”Hi there, good to ‘sea’ you” Rika said when they got their turn to order, asking ”what ‘wave’ you been up to since we ‘shoar’ you last?” prompting jr to grouse that it had been ”Three days of this, and it's all your fault” despite not seeming to be actually that annoyed by his sisters off the mark attempts at puns.

”Annnyway, don’t worry, we’re good for it this time, so we’ll have-” Jr began to say only for Rika to intercede with ”One of everything” which was a bit less of an absurd request than it sounded when jr brought out 3 more mouths to feed in the forms of his pokemon: Dazzle, Mimi and Peeka who respectively got their own seat, sat on the table, or floated above it.

As for Juri, well, due to having their own thing to deal with while she’d been on the ship, and having been out at sea either pirating or practicing for most of the day while she was land lubbing and thuging, they didn’t really have any idea what her deal was. However, as they’d waited in the queue, and unsurprisingly no one else wanted to sit next to the mafia's new enforcer if they didn’t have too, the pair + jr’s mon ended up at more or less the closest seats to her, resulting in RIka offering the newest seeker a ”Hi there” of her own while Jr was busy corralling his minions.

Wednesday Morning

As the Hellpod hurtled towards the outskirts of Shinjuku, Zenkichi wondered how exactly he would go about finding the kids, let alone what he’d do when he did. They’d sent a calling card to a friggin’ Consul, for crying out loud! He wasn’t sure if Joker was being an idiot or if they’d figured out some way to take J down, but after fighting Y, C, and Z, Zenkichi knew one thing: he wanted to be there to help. There was too much going on to rope the rest of the Seekers into this, especially since the goal was to avoid pissing off the Consuls, but he could at least lend a hand.

Thankfully, actually getting into the city wasn’t terribly difficult, and his current get-up was looked upon as little more than a curiosity or some kind of cosplay. While little bits and pieces here and there betrayed this Shinjuku as not his own, it still felt like the Japan he knew. Walking the streets, he took in the once-familiar sights, a sad smile on his face. Midgar had tainted his feelings a bit when it came to big cities. Part of him couldn’t help but be on guard for an Other incursion, despite the fact that he was far from Midgar itself.

---

After a couple hours of somewhat aimless wandering, Zenkichi caught sight of a familiar blond head of hair, and rapidly turned to follow after it. He stayed at a distance for a bit, before closing the gap between the two as Ryuji turned a corner, quietly calling out. ”Been a while, hasn’t it, Skull?” Stepping closer and holding out a hand to pat Ryuji on the shoulder, Zenkichi chuckled. ”Been looking for you guys.”

Ryuji, for his part, nearly had his eyeballs pop out of his head, before he shook it and laughed. “Way to go, gramps! For a second there I didn’t even know it was you. Oh, man, the others are gonna lose their shit when we show up at the hideout!” He laughed, slapping Zenkichi on the back, and jerked his head. “C’mon, follow me, I’ll show ya where we’re holed up!”

The boy led the way out of the bustling, crowded city center, away from prying eyes into a more laid-back neighborhood. Closed to vehicular traffic, Sixth Street boasted a mix of residential buildings and cute, colorful businesses like the music shop Bardic Needle and the toy store Box Galaxy, all stylized with a deliberate old-school aesthetic that encompassed everything from CRT television sets to pay phones to records. Of course, even peaceful neighborhoods weren’t always quiet, and today a handful of rabbids seemed to feuding -or perhaps just playing- with intelligent devices called bangboo, and together the two groups of rabbit-like mascots were getting into all sorts of antics. Outgoing as ever, Ryuji waved to and greeted plenty of local denizens, shopkeepers, and even bangboo, before finally steering Zenkichi over to what seemed to be the team’s hideout. In typical Ryuji fashion he hadn’t even managed to go the whole trek without mentioning the Phantom Thieves once at full volume, but after confirming that nobody seemed to be following him, Zenkichi ducked into his old team’s new base excited to see the youngsters once more.

Inside, Zenkichi found more than he bargained for. From the outside the entrance looked like a manhole, which wasn’t an inviting prospect, but when he climbed to the bottom of the stairs he discovered not sewers, but what appeared to be an underground fallout shelter with an even more retro look, styled after 1950’s America. It opened up into a large square lounge area with red-and-white checkered tiles with a lower section in the middle that resembled an old diner, with a small adjoining segment meant to look like a lawn between two houses, separated with a white picket fence from an image of the sea. Zenkichi saw a pool table, and even a few pinball machines, though whether they worked or not was anyone’s guess. While the whole place had clearly seen better days, it was large and well-stocked–not just with supplies, but with Phantom Thieves. They were spread out around one of the booths, and at the sound of footsteps they looked up from their discussion.

“Zenkichi?!” A young, casually-dressed woman with blonde pigtails sprang to her feet, hitting her knees on the table in the process. She winced, then hobbled over as fast as she could. As usual the black-furred Morgana trailed after her, big blue eyes wide, scrambling (rather like a cat, despite his frequent claims otherwise) over the back of a chair to take a running leap into Zenkichi’s arms just before Ann embraced him, and even Ryuji threw an arm over the detective’s shoulder. “It’s you! Thank goodness, we were so worried about you!”

Zenkichi caught Morgana with ease, hauling the totally-not-a-cat up onto his shoulder and out of squishing range from the hug with Ann. ”Yeah, I was pretty worried about you kids, too. Got a tip you were here and came running.”

“I knew he could do it! You’ve been fusing too, huh?” Morgana never passed up a chance to talk himself up. “Well, I’d recognize that old-man smell anywhere! It’s good to see you again, pops!”

Two more of their friends followed suit, showing a little more restraint as they left the table and headed over to receive the new arrival: a solemn-looking young man in white with dull blue hair, and a girl whose short brown hair contrasted deep red eyes. The former bowed formally. “Mr. Hasegawa, sir,” Yusuke greeted him, using all the honorifics he could. “Glad to have you back with us.”

Makoto, meanwhile, opted for a handshake and warm smile. The Shujin Academy class president almost always kept a stiff upper lip, but today she allowed her relief to shine through. “Hello and welcome to our humble hideout,” she told him. “It’s an old Hollow shelter, built to keep citizens safe from Ethereals and supplied with sedatives until rescue arrives, should a Hollow consume this area. Sixth Street’s been stable for a long time, so it’s never been used. Technically we’ve been squatting here…”

Ryuji shot her an incredulous look, as if to say, come on, for real?

“...Buuut we needed someplace to stay ‘til we’ve finished our mission,” Makoto admitted. “It was locked up tight when we found it, but the lock was electronic, so…”

She turned toward the last two Thieves at the table, her attention on the young, bespectacled redhead in particular. Though Futaba had looked up and waved to Zenkichi when she arrived, her attention quickly shifted back to her laptop computer, which she bent over like a shrimp. Next to her, a boy with scruffy black hair and glasses rose with his hands in his pockets, a grin on his face as he regarded the new arrival. “You came at the perfect time,” Joker declared. Each and every one of these teens appeared to be free from Galeem’s influence, creating a conspiratorial atmosphere. “We’ve almost got the whole gang back together. If you’ve still got some fight in you, we could use your help.”

Morgana sighed. “Yeah, ‘cause we still haven’t found Haru yet. We need all the firepower we can get!” Joker opened his mouth as if to say something, but fell silent with a sigh.

Zenkichi nodded at the knowledge that the Thieves were still missing their explosives expert, wondering where the girl could have wound up. ”So, heard you guys were working on taking down a Consul. So how’s that going?”

“C’mon over and see!” After Morgana leaped down and retraced his steps, Ryuji and Ann basically dragged Zenkichi with them, moving the group back toward the lounge’s tables. When he arrived, he found a map spread out across the surface, with a handful of pictures, playing cards, snipped-up newspapers, and writing utensils scattered around. “We’ve got a big…hyp! Day ahead of us!” Morgana explained as he clambered up onto the seat so that he could plant his paws on the table. “We went over it once already, but let’s break it down for Zenkichi so he’s all caught up!”

Ryuji scratched his head. “Uh, could we do the TLDR version this time?”

Almost everyone looked at Makoto immediately, which seemed to exasperate her somewhat, but she relented. “Sure…but first, you should tell us how your ‘solo mission’ went. Can we count on that proxy or not?”

“Oh yeah, totally!” Ryuji nodded vigorously. “I was on the way back from Random Play when I saw Zenkichi, so I kinda forgot, but yeah. Phaethon’s on board!”

Zenkichi looked between the other Phantom Thieves, bewilderment clear on his face.

Joker gave a nod of approval. “Good. For a minute there I thought we might really be flying blind.

“Ahem, the situation is this,” Makoto began after clearing her throat. “When Joker and the others first arrived here, they began investigating the city. In the course of their investigation, they found Futaba and I, and once we were freed we could join the Phantom Thieves in undertaking a new mission: stealing the heart of the city’s true ruler: J.” She took a breath, then continued. “She calls herself the ‘Consul’. This city has a mayor, but he’s just a puppet. That said, even though she holds all the power, she doesn’t rule. Instead, she conducts Killing Games, abducting handfuls of people -usually students our age- and trapping them in various locations where they’re forced to kill one another.”

“All just to savor their despair,” Futuba concluded grimly. Zenkichi shook his head sadly, his mouth a thin line. He knew the Consuls had to keep the blood flowing, but that felt needlessly sadistic.

Narrowing his eyes, Yusuke went into more detail. “Specifically, they’re trapped and informed that if they want to leave, they must murder one of the others. When someone is murdered, a trial is convened to figure out who did it. If the group chooses correctly, the murderer is then executed, but if they’re wrong they’re all executed, and the murderer goes free.” He pursed his lips. “Quite the grisly affair. No…if anything, ‘grisly’ is underselling it. It’s an evil, barbarous practice, and it cannot be allowed to continue.”

“Hence our mission,” Joker added. “Over the past week, we’ve been working our way closer to her. Since we’ve all been trapped in the Metaverse this whole time, it’s been a lot scarier than infiltrating a palace, but the end result is the same. We find our way in, then steal her heart. And as it happens.” He nodded his head at the paper clippings on the table. “We just sent our calling card yesterday.”

Zenkichi blinked when Joker said they were in the Metaverse. ”Uh, wait, huh? Metaverse? Huh, yeah I guess I could see why it would seem that way…” He muttered, frowning. ”So, what’s J’s jail like?” He asked, steamrolling over that potential landmine of a conversation. They could hash out the details later. For now, he wanted to get this Consul dealt with and get the kids the hell out of this place.

“Jail isn’t quite the right word, but she frequents one school in particular, Hope’s Peak Academy,” Makoto told him. “It’s enormous, more like several schools mashed together into one big labyrinth, and there are plenty of monsters scattered around.”

Ann smacked her hands together. “We’re planning to ambush her there today! She just started a new Killing Game, and since the calling card said we’d stop them once and for all, she’s definitely gonna be there.”

Zenkichi nodded, hands on the table, looking down at the map. ”So, what’s the plan? And who’s that person you mentioned before, Phaethon?” Name isn’t ringing any bells from…home.” He avoided saying ‘our world’, because he had a feeling that’d fly like a lead brick, and frankly, it did sound a little insane, now that he was thinking about it. Were they really in some bizarre amalgamation of worlds created by a wannabe god, or was this the Metaverse? But if it was the Metaverse, how were they stuck, and how did that explain Gleaming? His head was swimming just trying to parse all the possibilities.

Joker decided to answer that one. “Phaethon is a proxy, someone who’s skilled at navigating Hollows. Space is warped inside them, so we can’t navigate normally.”

His comment seemed to ruffle Futaba’s feathers. “Yeah, yeah. Just you wait until I get a grip on this proxy thing. I’ll blow Phaethon out of the water.”

Chuckling, Joker patted her on the head. “Of course. For now though, we need help, and Phaethon’s our age, so they want to stop J as bad as we do.”

“They’re the only reason we have a route in a place like a Hollow at all,” Makoto admitted. “They sync up to a special bangboo to lead us through. Have…you seen one yet, Zenkichi?”

Morgana crossed his arms, turning up his pink nose. For whatever reason he didn’t seem to like bangboos.

Zenkichi blinked and shook his head. ”I have never heard of either a Bangboo or a Hollow. Well, I’ve heard of a Hollow Child from where I was before this, but that is definitely not what you’re talking about.” He was trying to keep up, but beyond Hollows being some kind of extra-dimensional space, he didn’t get it at all, and said as much.

“Well, don’t worry about it!” Ryuji told him, shrugging. “I sure don’t! Just follow along behind Joker, same as always!”

Ann winced. “Well…you could probably stand to think a little harder than Ryuji.”

“Well, there’s the pot calling the kettle black! You don’t know anything about Hollows, either!” Ryuji accused her.

Not at all subtle, Ann attempted to deflect. “Pssh, yeah right. I totally know…”

“We’re getting a little lost in the weeds,” Yusuke interrupted. “But Ryuji, while inelegant, is not wrong. We need merely follow our valiant leader into the fray.”

Joker grinned. “Then I say it’s about time we get busy. You guys ready to steal another heart?”

”Yeah, let’s do this.” Zenkichi confirmed.

The Phantom Thieves were more than ready. Once everyone gathered their supplies and equipment for the final raid, it was time to move out.

---

“I…I can’t believe I did all these things…all just to live forever?” Moebius J panted, her eyes wide with guilt and self-loathing, as the collected Phantom Thieves stood before her, her heart successfully stolen.

“Good work.” Joker congratulated the others, a confident smile on his face, as he turned back towards their enemy. “There’s always a future. You’ll have to face the punishment for your crimes, but your life does not have to be defined by the worst of it. There is always hope.” J’s head sprung up, her eyes blazing.

“Hope?! Hope! You…you don’t know anything if you still think there’s hope! I…no. No. I refuse. I refuse to live like this. You can’t make me.” Joker turned to the others, confusion evident even behind his mask, and reached out his hand.

“J, listen to me-”

“No!” Standing up shakily, J stepped back, producing a knife and plunging it into her chest, piercing right through her armor, and removing it before rapidly plunging it into her own chest, over and over. As the Phantom Thieves rushed forward to stop her, she threw herself backwards, trying to crawl away. “I won’t…live with…this despair…” She murmured as she tried to escape, Zenkichi flipping her over and looking at the weight of a thousand lives in the eyes of Moebius J.

”So, this is it for you, right? Once a Moebius dies, you’re out of the system?” Joker and the others looked at Zenkichi like he was talking nonsense, but J just nodded, tears building in her eyes.

“And I wasted all that time. Working for Galeem…working…for the Endless Now. I just thought…I’d get to see so much despair…” her body wracked with a cough as she spit blood up, Zenkichi’s new outfit getting stained with crimson, as he frowned sadly at the girl in his arms. She looked as young as the kids were.

”I’m sorry we couldn’t save you, J. I’m sorry for what Galeem did to you.” J’s body shook with sad laughter, and she shook her head.

“I was like this before Galeem, before Moebius…before the Endless Now. He didn’t do anything to me. It was just…so…boring. Everything. Despair was the only thing that wasn’t boring.” Zenkichi’s eyes hardened a bit at the confession, but he shook his head and hugged J, much to everybody’s surprise.

”It’s terrible. It’s a terrible way to live.” He chided, gently stroking her hair while the other Phantom Thieves backed away, looking at each other in concern. ”But I understand. When life is so monotonous, so empty, all you look for is what excites you. I used to be the same way. But you hurt so many people doing that. And when you finally face what you did, it hurts so much. You didn’t have to do this, J. I know you didn’t.” Ann and Makoto looked at each other, realizing what Zenkichi meant, before pulling on Joker and Ryuji’s arms, trying to give Zenkichi privacy to face his demons.

“I…I had to…I couldn’t…I can’t…live with all that pain in me. I…I killed so many people just…for fun.” J cried, hugging Zenkichi as she faded into light.

Zenkichi sat there, on his knees, for a minute or so, before taking a deep breath and standing up, turning to the other Thieves. ”I…think I have some things I need to explain. About what happened. About where we are. Because, Joker…this isn’t the Metaverse.”

---

”I’m just saying, even if this is the same Demiurge we fought before, in a new form, these are real people around us, not Shadows. I worked with Shadows in Midgar, and they did the same normal thing they did in the Metaverse. Whatever Galeem is, we can’t be playing by the same rules we used to. I watched Konoe die, Joker. Saw his Spirit, whatever that is, and transformed it into his weapon.” With that, he summoned the Hero’s Saber, and a sad look crossed his face.

”It’s hard for me to believe, too. At the very least, the people around us are real. J was a person until they became a Moebius, and I barely understand just what that means. I’m in way over my head here, but…I think I should go back to the Avengers, and the other Seekers.” A wave of shock passed over the other Phantom Thieves.

“Gramps, no way! We just got you back!” Ryuji cried.

“Mr. Hasegawa, sir, I must implore you to reconsider.” Yusuke closed his eyes and frowned as he spoke, already knowing it was fruitless.

“But, Zenkichi-san! We work best as a team, and we still haven’t found Haru, either!” Ann begged, stomping her foot.

“If you think that’s best, Mister Hasegawa. I just hope you’ll keep in touch.” Makoto did not beg, nor did she try to convince Zenkichi to stay, but she did hope he wouldn’t just vanish like dust in the wind, and the unsure look on her face made his heart ache.

“Awww, come on gramps! You that eager to get rid of us?” Futaba whined.

“You will keep in touch, I hope? If so, I understand.” Joker was the calmest of the group about this, though like always, his motivations and innermost thoughts seemed a mystery to Zenkichi. “Keep us updated on how the war against the Guardians is going, and we’ll let you know if we could use a hand. Phantom Thief style, or Seeker style.” One thing was for sure, and that was that Joker was taking what he’d said seriously. They were in uncharted territory now, with other people having been dragged into the Metaverse, not just their shadows.

”Wouldn’t dream of keeping you in the dark, guys, don’t worry. I’m glad you’re all safe, and I’ll be keeping an eye out for Haru, too. Come on, guys, don’t make an old man cry.” He joked, holding his arms out for a hug, which Ann and Makoto all too happily obliged. Ryuji slung an arm over Zenkichi’s shoulder, pulling him down a little, and thumped his back.

“You keep yourself safe out there, gramps! We’ll do the same, don’t you worry! Ol’ Ryuji’s still got his tank thing going on!” Zenkichi laughed, and pushed the thuggish Phantom Thief with a heart of gold off.

”Yeah, I will. And I’ll let Akane know you guys are all alright, too. I know she misses you, but I couldn’t get her dragged into an attack on a Consul.”

“Of course.” Joker replied simply, nodding. “Regarding the Consuls, you said there are 26 of them? And that when threatened, they take on that more powerful form, that they call Moebius?”

Zenkichi nodded. ”Yeah. And, from what I heard about Peach…they can make somebody else one too. To replace the ones we kill.” Everybody’s face fell at that, the fresh memories (and Zenkichi’s bloodstained tunic to remind them even if they tried to forget) aching. ”If anything, changing their hearts would be the better way to go about it. As long as they’re not as messed up as J was, that is…” Rubbing the back of his neck, Zenkichi shrugged.

“Then we’ll likely keep doing that.” Joker said. “Is there anything else you need?” He asked simply. Zenkichi shook his head in response, smiling.

”Nope. We’re splitting up into a few groups, one of which is gonna be nearby. Meridi-at-Han. If you need me, I’ll be there for the next few days or so. Otherwise, just send me a message.” Holding up his cell phone, Zenkichi waggled it a bit. ”The internet should be spreading out more now, especially with Bridges free to spread out a bit from Midgar. Good luck, you crazy kids.”

“Good luck, Gramps!” “You too, Zenkichi!” “Yourself as well, Mr. Hasegawa.” “Good luck, Mr. Hasegawa.” “We don’t need luck, Gramps, we got me!” “You too.”

With one last round of hugs and handshakes, Zenkichi departed the shelter, waving goodbye to the friends and allies who’d helped him remember what it meant to be a hero.

---

Monday Morning

Meridi-at-Han was a much livelier place than Midgar or even most of Japan was, Zenkichi had concluded after only a few days there. He’d spent a couple of days on the Avenger after having been picked up, relaying the story of J’s demise and the safety of the Phantom Thieves to everybody he could, along with hanging out with Akane, talking with Sandalphon, and testing out some moves with his new weapons. That, and getting his tunic laundered.

One day had been spent relaxing, because Zenkichi was not nearly as young as most of the other Seekers, and Geralt had a half-dozen fusions and mutant metabolism to keep him sprightly. Zenkichi had poorly-done stretches and coffee. His bones ached from the high-octane adventure he’d been dragged into.

And, of course, he’d had to climb what felt like a mile of stairs just to get into the city. No rest for the wicked, it seemed. At least that had been Friday afternoon, and he’d managed to spend Saturday relaxing. Sunday had involved hunting a massive beast to help pay for his stay here and food. And now, Monday, he was finally doing what he was supposed to be: trying to gather information on Consuls and Guardians. He had phoned it in a bit the first few days because he’d already helped take down a Consul, but a new J would be back soon enough. He couldn’t rest on his laurels.

So, he wandered the streets, picking up rumors as he went, and any mention of the leader of Shinjuku was like a knife to the heart. Still, he kept his ‘patrols’ up, and heard of something really interesting: a circus was coming to town. Strange, but the World of Light was a strange place. With nothing else to go on, he figured he’d pay it a visit.

Wednesday Morning

Having had a much happier reunion with Yen than their last (especially without the awkwardness of being female that he was half-worried he would have to deal with), Geralt was on his way to find Ciri, the Sorceress having followed him down in a Hellpod, though not without great reluctance. She still hadn’t recovered the ability to create portals, though making one to a completely unknown area would have been a difficult matter itself. Instead, the pair traveled to the outskirts of the Satisfactory, where Karin had instructed the survivors from Midgar to go.

The approach to the Satisfactory was a largely arid series of canyons and plateaus, though small rivers and oases did dot the landscape in sufficient number to make the place liveable. Small huts and stacks of logs, rudimentary clay bricks, and chunks of stone and metal surrounded the refinery, which fed ray materials not being used for construction of shelter to the main factory.

“Huh. Not even going to pretend I know what half of that’s for.” Geralt remarked, eyes wide at the massive scene before them.

“That…is…enormous!” Yennefer cried. “To think of the kind of marvels they must be able to produce with these machines! The sheer scale of output! I knew this world had some amazing things in it, Geralt, but this is…amazing.” Geralt was a little surprised by just how taken in by all this Yen was, but he took it in stride.

“It’s something, alright. Only makes sense they’d need something like this to keep a city as huge as Midgar running, I suppose. Have to make everything somewhere, and what better place than the middle of nowhere?” Geralt looked around, emphasizing the remote location of the factory, before shrugging. “Alright, nothing to it. Let’s start looking.”

It wasn’t long before they’d found somebody who had seen somebody going by Ciri’s rough description, though it had been a few hours since they had. Deciding that it might be better to just go straight to the people in charge, he described Sakura and Karin as best he could to Yen, who nodded impassively at the descriptions before raising an eyebrow. “Surrounding yourself with beautiful young women again, are we, Geralt? If I didn’t know better, I might be jealous.” She gave that sort-of laugh that she did sometimes, and Geralt smirked a little.

“Ah, but you do know better. Besides, I’m fairly certain Sakura isn’t even yet twenty. Younger still than Ciri by a few years.” He replied. “And I’m also fairly certain she could beat me in a fight if I tried anything.” Yen paused at that, thinking.

“Even Ciri would be hard-pressed to fight you without the full brunt of her power, and that would be if she could fully control it. That girl must be quite the fighter.” She remarked, humming. “I think I should like to meet her. And this Karin is her rival in their martial arts training? My, how interesting.”

“I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of their fists or feet, that’s for sure. But let’s see if they can help finding Ciri.”

---

Karin Kanzuki, if she did say so herself, was doing a stupendous job. She was back in red, and back in a position of leadership. While of course figures like Susie were back in Midgar itself, the actual refugees of Midgar needed a leader, and Karin had stepped up. It had been one of the most rewarding challenges of her career so far. It had only been a short while but her message combined with her take-charge attitude were enough to make people consider her. And the amount of force she and Sakura together could output were demonstration enough. There were many scattered factions trying to take advantage of the people, and during the first few hours of the chaos Sakura and Karin had mostly gone around rounding folks up and battering criminals and corrupt cops alike, all while trying to form a ‘council’ of anyone who wasn’t evil. Fortunately they had a lot to choose from.

The beginning chaos had settled down, and the two had turned their attention to the Satisfactory. It was an obvious choice to get production going to begin the construction of a real town. Karin had discovered that building and crafting were much easier here than they were in the real world. Within a few days she predicted they could have an entire town of shelter built up.

Karin was up on the roof, peering down through the sunroof to the factory floor down below. ”A little to the left….My left!” Karin shouted down.

Sakura was carrying some ridiculous machine on her back, and she set it down with a thud in a grunt. Some nearby workers applauded. Sakura grinned and waved at them, and suppressed a wince as she held the small of her back, looking up to Karin.

”How did I let you put me up to this? You’re telling me the best way to get this factory going is for you to shout at us on high while we carry around heavy machinery?” Sakura complained.

”Oh, no. You’re the only one carrying around heavy machinery, Sakura.” Karin replied coyly. ”And I have to stand up here to see the whole picture!”

”Wow!”

”No, but honestly! You’re strong, aren’t you? Can’t you do it?” Karin asked.

”Of course I can do it.” Sakura said.

”After we’re done setting up, you and I can go for a first-to-one hundred.” Karin said. Sakura’s eyes lit up.

”You think we’ll have time for that?!” She clutched her fists and bounced on her heels.

”We’ll make time.” Karin replied. Then her tone became sly once again. ”Besides, it won’t take me long to thrash you one hundred bouts in a row.” Then she switched tones once again. ”Could you bring that craft bench from outside in here? Right up against the North wall should do.”

”Oh, you’re so on.” Sakura sprinted out of the room. Meanwhile, Karin grappled hooked down from the roof and began connecting the Refinery to the rest of the conveyor belts. Then she hooked back up onto the roof and began pacing from sunroof to sunroof. She had a table set up there with sketches and papers held down by various trinkets and gadgets salvaged from Midgar, most not useful.

She called down to the workers below. ”Remember: Coal, then metal! None of us will be cold tonight if my name isn’t Karin Kanzuki!” She said, which got a cheer from the collected work force. Ah, it was good to be the queen. Karin looked out upon her kingdom of ramshackle huts, tents, shacks, and pre-existing warehouses. Soon, it would be a walled utopia of the people. Not just the massive factory itself, but the space around it, too. A bastion of freedom, under her complete, benevolent control! And Sakura…could be the mascot. Tomorrow, Karin would turn her attention to getting that large crane operational. There were some engineers she knew that could help with that…

“Karin!” Geralt’s voice boomed, his hands cupped to better direct his call directly up to his ally. “It’s Geralt, from the Seekers!” He added, since his appearance had drastically changed since they’d last met. Karin’s head snapped in Geralt’s direction, her golden hair sparkling in the sun with the movement.

Heads turned at the Witcher’s loud call, a few astute observers having picked up the ‘Seeker’ part and connecting it to what Karin had said last night. Whispers and murmurs picked up throughout the crowds as people slowed to see what was happening.

”Ah! So he has returned.” Like before she seemed to take his new appearance in stride. ”With company, no less. I suppose now is as good a time as any: take five, men!” She called down to the workers. Then she leapt from the roof and rappelled down to the ground, approaching.

Once Karin had made her way closer, Geralt introduced Yen. “This is Yennefer, my wife, and a powerful sorceress where we come from. I received…information…that Ciri was in Night City when Midgar fell, and had come here with the other refugees. We were wondering if you, or somebody you’ve been working with, could help us track her down among all the people here.”

Yen nodded, for her part. “After being separated, and reunited, then separated again, we just…need to see for ourselves that she’s okay.” She was keeping her composure well, but Geralt’s many years of experience with the woman told him that she was both frustrated at the situation, and excited to see Ciri again.

Karin nodded. ”Indeed. I suspect that-” Almost like she saw it coming, she pointed behind her as Sakura shouted, setting down the craft bench with a thump and sprinting over.

”Mister Geralt! You’re back already!” She said. She ran up and gave him a big hug.

”Oh! Oh oh oh!” She pulled back and began tapping him on the shoulders. Then she glanced over at Yen, gasped, pointed at her with her mouth in the shape of an ‘o’, and hopped in place, taking a few steps back.

”Yes! Okay! Guess who I saw!” She held her hands towards them. There was no time to answer the rhetorical question, though. ”It was Cirilla-san!”

”I said I knew who she was and she knew that I would only know because you told me. And I said you were just here and were probably coming back Mister Geralt. But some guys told us about some giant scorpions. And I said she would wait here in case you come back and I can go fight them, but I knew that was dumb.” Sakura stood up straighter and lowered her eyelids, adopting an exaggerated posture of Ciri.

”‘If you think I’m just going to sit around and wait for him to show up while there’s monsters to hunt, you’re sorely mistaken.’” She said, in a surprisingly accurate impression.

”And I was like, yeah I’m really sorely mistaken, and then she took off that way!” She pointed over a nearby hill. ”There’s some cliffs and a ravine over there where the giant scorpions are, and also a well. That’s why those guys saw the scorpion in the first place.” Sakura said, a little breathless.

Geralt huffed a short laugh at Sakura’s exuberance, but the news that Ciri was here, right now, and safe, meant a weight off his shoulders. He gave the Street Fighters a small smile and nodded. “Then, if you’ll excuse us, I think we have some scorpions to deal with. We can talk more when we get back.”

Yen gave the pair a nod, hanging back a few moments as Geralt turned to leave. “Thank you two for helping make sure he was safe. I know Geralt is more than capable of taking care of himself, but he’s had nothing but praise for your abilities as well. In this hostile land of Galeem’s designs, we all need all the help we can get.” Her piece said, she turned to join Geralt, the pair quickly walking in the direction Sakura pointed.

”Of- of course!” Sakura bowed again. She knew they would want to speed off to see Ciri as soon as possible, which is why Sakura’s intent was to waste no time telling them where she was. Karin simply nodded, holding her elbow with one hand and keeping the other by her face.

”Come. If they’re going to be slaying beasts we should not waste time in our own contributions.” Karin said, and the pair returned to their duties. Sakura kept looking over the hill, though, between actions. She knew they’d be back shortly!

It was by no means a long walk to find Ciri, and once they caught sight of their surrogate daughter dancing around a half-dozen [url=http://]i.imgur.com/WoLwcZk.png]Giant Scorpions[/url], both moved to assist. Geralt slid down the hill they were standing on, drawing his steel sword, while Yen more carefully descended it, a ball of fire springing to life above her shoulder and hurtling towards one of the scorpions.

The creature cried out in surprise, turning towards the approaching interlopers, while Ciri let out a gasp of surprise, then was forced to blink away when another scorpion nearly caught it with her claws. The trail of blue-green energy left in her wake had been confounding the scorpions since she’d began carving away at them, but they’d begun to ignore the light show after beginning to realize it was of no harm to them, nor was it prey that they could kill.

“Geralt?! Yennefer?!” She called out, confused but delighted. “You showed up much sooner than I anticipated! It’s only been a day!” Ciri’s sword flashed out, carving through and removing half the pincers of a scorpion that closed in, and she kicked the stinger that it sent hurtling after her aside as she dodged, spinning in a flourishing blow as she severed the offending appendage. “I know you’ve been busy, I could have waited a few more days!”

“Wasn’t gonna let that happen.” Geralt replied gruffly as he landed on a stable spot and stopped. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and lifted his sword aloft. A glyph of magical energy began to form beneath him, and after a few seconds he spoke again. “Light of the heavens, pierce my foes. Holy Lance!”

As he cried the name of his spell, the glyph disappeared from beneath him and several new glyphs appeared around one of the scorpions, five lances of holy energy rising from them, while a sixth hovered ominously above. The five lances, in sequence, crashed into the scorpion, catching a second one nearby in the explosion of energy that appeared as they landed, and the sixth crashed upon its target like a meteor from above, destroying the scorpion and scattering the ash of its body in an instant.

A wave of lethargy overcame Geralt momentarily, but he shook it off and dove into the battle while Yen and Ciri’s eyes bulged out of their heads in surprise, the latter being caught off guard and grabbed in the remaining pincer of the scorpion she’d mutilated, which violently slammed its destroyed pincer into her body. She grunted from the impact, but a fireball from Yen crashed into the scorpion’s back, finally finishing it off and freeing Ciri.

“When did you learn proper magic, Geralt!?” Ciri asked, parrying another stinger sent her way while Geralt stabbed into the back of one of the remaining scorpions, dancing out of the way of its stinger and carving a bloody furrow through its body.

“Fused with a few Spirits yesterday afternoon. You should see what else I can do.” He joked, backing off from the scorpion he’d wounded and taking a deep breath. That spell took a lot out of him, but he was already nearly fully recovered. Yen, for her part, rolled her eyes as a third fireball streaked from her and immolated the stinger of the scorpion Geralt had wounded, while Ciri attacked another.

“It might behoove you to show off your newfound abilities when our lives aren’t in peril, Geralt.” Yen chided, rolling her eyes with a fond half-smile. None of the three were truly in much danger, but it was a reminder to take the battle seriously and not showboat, which Geralt acknowledged with a cocked nod of the head.

“Fair enough. Finish off the scorpions, then we can all trade stories over a few ales. Sound good?” The ‘Yes’ he got in response from the two was enough for Geralt, and they refocused on finishing their quarry.

---

Carrying the Spirits of the scorpions back, Yen, Ciri, and Geralt chatted and swapped stories as they returned to the factory approach where they’d last seen Karin and Sakura, depositing the Spirits in a box that had been set aside for such things. Aside from venom or chitin, they couldn’t think of anything they’d get from mere scorpions, giant or not, and the trio had decided that they could better be put to use by the magical-seeming factory, perhaps used for building armors, high-end fashion, or antivenom.

Looking around for the pair of street fighters, Geralt called out to try to get their attention once more, though this time it resulted in far fewer heads turning. Seems they were already old news.

”Yay, you’re back!” Sakura called out, carrying a big box. She kept walking to set it down. Karin waved over her shoulder but was in the middle of a discussion with a foreman.

”One big happy family.” Sakura smiled. ”Galeem better watch out, huh?”

“Actually, we were talking while we were on our way back here.” Ciri said, smiling at Sakura, and looking around as she took a step closer to Sakura. “And I think I’d like to stay here. Helping people.” Geralt nodded behind her, a faint smile on his own face. Yen stepped forward as well, an arm around Ciri’s shoulder.

“And I might not understand how these machines work, but in our world I was an advisor to an emperor.” She left out how that emperor was Ciri’s father by blood, but that detail wasn’t entirely relevant. “I understand how kingdoms are run, and while this may not be a kingdom in any way I know, Geralt did mention that your world has a concept by which all people have a say in who manages the lands? I think I might be able to lend a hand in some fashion.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. ”Of- of course! We’d be so happy to have you?!” She ask-exclaimed. She turned over her shoulder at Karin, who had been tuned into two conversations at once.

”Are they staying?”

”It seems that way!” Sakura said. ”In a very democratic fashion!” She added a hint of tease to her voice.

”...Well, perhaps.” Karin put her conversation on hold and walked over. ”We’ve got a lot of work cut out for us. But more of this world should be liberated, and we can make that happen.”

”That’s even more great because I know where my parents are now thanks to that big speech and the internet! With emails and all that? With you two here I’ll be able to go meet them even sooner.” Sakura smiled. ”Today is a good day! How long will you be staying, Mister Geralt?” She asked. ”Lunch, at least?”

“A few days.” Geralt replied, smirking. “Figure I’d help out, see these two settle in, then call Sandalphon to bring our new ship around.” Yen rolled her eyes at that, but nodded.

“It flies. It’s not a ship, Geralt.” She said in exasperation, only for Geralt’s smirk to deepen.

“That’s what the people using it call it. An airship. It’s certainly not the sleek, small flying machines most people were using in Midgar.” He retorted, shrugging. “Either way, Yennefer, as well as the two of you, should be able to call for Sandalphon if anything happens. We’ll be here as soon as we can, at least those of us on the ship around that time. If C comes back, or anything else for that matter…” Geralt’s eyes widened as he remembered something, and his posture deflated somewhat.

“I…just remembered something. Last night, Sandalphon told us something, and then Bowser…went and did something stupid. Peach…was killed during the attack on Midgar. And when Bowser went back to her castle to find what he could, he found her.” Geralt paused for a moment, closing his eyes. He was still having trouble understanding it. “Peach is a Consul now. Consul P. I don’t know what Guardian she’ll be defending, or if she even can defend a Guardian, seeing that the last P was guarding the Guardian that the other team defeated, but she is not to be trusted. Not the same way, at least. Being who she is, part of me has to hope this is a plot to defeat them from the inside, but…you need to be aware. If she comes here, just be wary. She’s not the same Peach you knew.”

Karin narrowed her eyes, rubbing her chin in thought. Sakura’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth, briefly not looking at anything. ”That’s terrible!” She wasn’t even sure what to think. Peach died? But she wasn’t dead? And she was a Consul? ”Um…w-wow. At least she isn’t trapped in a giant monster body anymore.” Sakura said.

”I appreciate the word of warning. Interesting that such a thing is even possible. This is no doubt some kind of scheme to divide the cause of the Seekers.” For a moment Karin considered rejoining the war effort. But the people of Midgar needed her. They needed a place worth staying.

”The Consuls can act all kinds of ways. Be themselves. It’s not all bad, right? ” Sakura said with a nod. ”I hope she stops by.”

Geralt gave Sakura a small smile, nodding. “I understand. Hopefully, she’s still on our side, or at least not with the Consuls like the others are. I just wanted to warn you. For now, though, let’s all get to work. I can help move things around, or just work with Ciri keeping the surroundings safe. I suppose we’ll see what we need more of.”

---

With a few days having passed hard at work, the time finally came for Geralt to leave. With Sakura, Karin, Ciri, and Yen all gathered to say goodbye, they said their final words for a time.

“Be careful out there, Geralt. Between the Consuls, the Guardians, and everything else out there, you must take care of yourself.” Yen cautioned, pulling Geralt into a close hug. He squeezed her gently, smiling happily.

Ciri came around and hugged the both of them, smiling as well. “And keep in touch. Visit sometime, alright? We’ll miss you.”

”Quite. Give them a show.” Karin said, looking up from a digital pad. She had collected a loyal personal entourage already. ”The Seekers will always be welcome in Midgar. Return whenever you please, should you grow tired of the confines of aircraft.”

Sakura came in for a side hug. ”It was good to see you, Mister Geralt. It’s kinda hard to believe I’ve been at Midgar just as long as I was a Seeker. Time flies when you’re not constantly fighting for your life, huh?” She said dryly.

“Oh, that it does, Sakura.” Geralt replied, entirely seriously. “And every fight feels like it stretches on for weeks.” It was funny how that happened, but they just had to make due with the time they had together. “I’ll be sure the others know that they have a place here. Whether they want to take a break, or step away from the fight entirely, they all deserve that.” Giving everybody one last squeeze, the group hug broke apart, and Geralt stepped back to activate his Fulton. “Hopefully, you all only get to see this once.” He flatly remarked as the balloon activated and knocked him unconscious as it yanked him into the air for the Avenger to pick him up.

”Goodby-” Sakura blinked and flinched back, not at all expecting the method of his exit to be so violent. ”Wh-...was that supposed to happen?” She looked around at the others.

Yen sighed. “Yes, yes it was.” She shuddered involuntarily at the memory of when she had to do that.

---

Monday Morning

Geralt sighed, looking out over the strange Mafia Town. Back in the Deep Blue Seaside. At least this time there wasn’t an endless war going on that they had to solve. The place was lively, seemed happy, and had a seemingly endless supply of morally bankrupt mafia members to cause conflict. “What a place.” He sighed again.

Stepping away from his space high up in the town, he stalked around, looking for another fight to get involved in. In the few days he’d been here, Geralt had taken out his frustrations on the mafia more than a few times, but left before Juri could ever show up to help out her ‘allies’. He knew what she was doing, and approved of it even, but in order to keep the charade up, he had to seem like they were enemies and that he didn’t want to deal with her.

Overhearing the sound of a shopkeeper begging for more time to pay his pons, Geralt stuck around and waited for the inevitable. The mafia member slapped the shopkeeper before grabbing him and shaking him to get whatever pons he had on him. That was when Geralt came in, using his own monstrous strength to lift the mafia member, shaking him in return. “Thought you’d have learned by now.” He snarled menacingly. “These people aren’t your playthings to shake like dogs with a bone, looking to suck whatever you can out of them.”

Dropping the mafia stooge, Geralt stepped to the side when the man swung at him, knocking him unconscious with a single punch. Rifling through his pockets to find a sum of pons, Geralt tossed a dozen or so the shopkeeper’s way. “Next time they come around, tell ‘em you had a generous customer. I’ll be keeping the rest.” The shopkeeper nodded and ran off, closing the door of his shop behind him. Counting what was left, Geralt found himself with about ten more pons to his name. “Not bad.” He muttered, following the shopkeeper’s lead and making himself scarce, but not before dragging the unconscious mafia member and stashing him somewhere nearby, but out of sight. He’d wake up later.

Making himself scarce, Geralt headed to the restaurant he knew Nadia was working at. He could chat and catch up with her later tonight.

Oh, great. Just as the evening rush got off to a promising start, with plenty of eager customers for Nadia, Dave, and the other server to attend, she showed up. Even though the catgirl could maintain an upbeat smile in the face of life-or-death situations, when subjected to terror or pain that no ordinary person could withstand, her lip curled at the slightest hint of Juri Han. Her nasty attitude went against everything that Nadia herself believed in; whereas she sought to help the downtrodden, put down the mighty, and make the world a brighter place, Juri mercilessly picked on anyone weaker than herself, leaving misery in her wake. Even though the Mafia here was a laughable shadow compared to the Medicis, Nadia couldn’t forgive her nemesis for joining them, and giving the cabal of otherwise harmless thugs some teeth. Then again, she couldn’t be surprised either. If Juri could be relied on for anything, it was to show up at the worst possible time and cause problems.

Well, tonight the feral wouldn’t give that bully the satisfaction. If she meant to provoke Nadia into making a scene and losing her job, Juri was going to end up disappointed. In the past week, after all, this humble place and its people had really grown on her. Sure, Bancho, Dave, Cobra, and their tech guy Duff might not be that important to her mission in the World of Light, and were admittedly a distraction from her task, but they’d quickly become her friends, and Bancho Sushi now felt like a home away from home. Plus, it was nice to just forget about Consuls and Galeem for a while and live in the now. So even if Nadia would be moving on before long, she’d be damned if she’d give it up. That meant that it was up to the catgirl to kill her rival with kindness. “Coming right up~” she chirped at Juri.

Nadia plopped down two mugs of beer for a couple of customers, said hi to Junior and Rika, then hustled back down the bar toward the cook station where she made for a grating board lined with shark skin. As he continued slicing sashimi Bancho glanced at Nadia, then at the woman toting a Tommy gun, though he seemed more wary of the former than the latter. If he sensed some sort of prior relationship between the two, he kept that to himself, but he did have one pointed question. “What did she order?” he asked.

“Just something spicy, so give her whatever. And those kids want one of everything,” Nadia replied dismissively as she grabbed a gnarled root, which she began to scrape along the board. With each pass, an alarmingly bright green paste began to collect among the coarse scales. She snickered to herself. “I’ll handle the spice.”

Bancho replied with surprising speed, his voice hard and firm. “That is unacceptable. Wasabi is a condiment, not a substitute for a spicy food, and at Bancho Sushi we aim to do right by every customer.”

Groaning, Nadia dropped the wasabi root and held her hands up in defeat. “Ugh, fine. So what do we do?

Behind his dark glasses, Bancho’s sharp eyes perused his stock of ingredients. “I have all the ingredients I need to make Hot Pepper Tuna. Except…” He shook his head. “No tuna.”

“Damn. We might be o-fish-ially up the creek,” Nadia sighed. As soon as Bancho put down a plate, she scooped it up and jogged over to deliver it to the customer, a wink and a smile on her face.

Dave, who’d been listening as he carefully made a three-layer cocktail nearby, turned to look with a thoughtful expression. Having changed out of his wetsuit into navy blue jeans, a red undershirt, a pale blue Hawaiian shirt, and a white trilby hat, he’d taken his place as Bancho Sushi’s primary server, but he hadn’t put today’s Blue Hole expedition completely out of his mind. “We saw some bluefin tuna while diving this afternoon,” he pointed out. “Nearly bulldozed us on the way down. We didn’t have any steel nets though, so we couldn’t catch ‘em.”

Nadia’s eyebrows shot up as she headed back. “Oh yeah! You know…” Her head swiveled toward the boat, then back at Bancho, her gaze questioning.

Her boss sensed her intentions. “Can you do it fast?”

As Nadia clenched her fist, yellow sparks burst from her veins. “Like lightning.”

Dave grinned. “Better get going then. I’ll hold down the fort.”

The catgirl took off running like a track star at the starter pistol, her ears and tail flapping behind her. She leaped onto the boat and scanned the equipment, heart racing. While she and Dave typically used the newer, higher-capacity boxes to store fish, Cobra hadn’t thrown away the old ones, so she grabbed the smallest one and tucked it under her arm, then snagged a harpoon gun. Rather than starting the boat, though, she promptly threw herself overboard. There was no splash; instead, her Mantreads stopped when they hit the water’s surface as the rigging of the shipgirl Massachusetts unfolded from the compact metal case on her back. Resembling parts of a slate-blue battleship, the mechanical limbs acted as stabilizers as they suspended their wearer on the water, allowing her to slide across the waves like a figure skater. “Alright, let’s do this! When I get back, that bitch’s gonna be singing to a different tune-a!”

Quickly picking up speed, Nadia made a beeline back toward the area where she and Dave dove, going over what she knew about tuna in her head. They were big, exceptionally powerful swimmers, and though not dangerous to humans like sharks they were highly effective predators in their own right. All this made them tough for a small operation like hers to catch, but the feral was nothing if not resourceful. If she could destroy enormous boss monsters in nightmarish dream realms, this ought to be easy. Of course, even after reaching the area, it took her a few precious minutes to even sight the fast-moving fish, but finally the catgirl spotted a telltale flash of silver just below the surface.

She dropped her catch box, then pulled her Bait Launcher from her belt and fired a raw steak into the water. Foomp! As it sank below the surface, Nadia readied Dave’s harpoon gun, and sure enough a tuna shot toward her a second later. “Here, fishy fishy…” With a predator’s instinct she waited for the right moment, then fired. The harpoon struck the tuna just as it snapped up the steak, which in turn summoned a burly tiger out of nowhere. Even manifested underwater, the tiger quickly sank its claws into the tuna as it hurtled along, dragging Nadia behind it. “Nyagh!” she yowled, pushing her stabilizers to the limit as she water-skied behind her prey. Beneath the waves her tiger’s assault continued, and as the slashes piled up the tuna began to slow down. By the time her helper timed out, the damage was done, and it wasn’t long before Nadia’s wild ride came to an end.

“...Whoo!” Nadia gasped, hyperventilating. She’d been tired enough from the expedition today, so at this point she really was running on fumes, but she did it. Thanks to her quick thinking she could savor the taste of victory, and soon Bancho’s customers would be savoring this bluefin, Juri included. As the dying fish floated to the surface, Nadia drew one of her Athame daggers from her belt and started slicing before the corpse could dissolve. Normally a tuna like this would be almost impossible to carve, but Athame temporarily crippled the defense and resistance of anything it cut, so Nadia made quick work of the fish and soon filled her catch box with deep rose-red flesh. So intent was the salivating catgirl on her task that she didn’t notice a sickly brown fin plowing through the waves until a monstrosity leaped from the water, its bulbous red eyes flailing at the end of fleshy stalks.

“The hell!?” At the sight of a toothy man opened wide, Nadia staggered backward across the water, terrified. The next second the Gazing Shark’s jaws snapped shut, and when it hit the water, the catgirl’s headless body sagged down to the ocean’s surface.

Then her head landed on her neck again, still one hundred percent alive, and Nadia sprang to her feet. She whirled around to see where her attacker landed, a nasty smile on her face. “Thought you’d get a piece of me, huh? Well, I don’t go down easy!” After drawing her other knife, the catgirl trained her rigging cannons on the mutant shark and opened fire with a barrage of blood bullets. “Let’s get chummy!” Once she triggered the gleaming monster, it turned back toward her to continue the fight. She braced herself as it ripped through the water, then dodged away as it lunged from below. Unfortunately, her fear got the better of her and her foe caught her arm in its jaws. “Me-owch!” Thinking quickly, Nadia forced her captured arm to drive one dagger into the shark’s head. Then, when it reached the apex of its leap, Nadia used Charge to launch herself through it as a streak of lightning. It floundered, sparking, as she reformed and slid across the water. She turned and launched muscle fibers from her stump, reconnecting to the arm in the shark’s mouth in order to yank the creature toward her. “That’s the thing about you sharks,” she hissed through a gritted smile. With a mighty heavy, she brought her rigging’s hull-blade around. “You always ‘chews’ poorly!”

With a squelching impact the hull blade nearly chopped the weakened shark in two, forcing it to relinquish its grip. Nadia reattached her bloody, bitten arm, wincing as she flexed it, then stowed her daggers. She’d lost Dave’s harpoon gun in the panic, but the catch box was still floating there. She seized it, then turned to flee the scene, skating back toward Bancho Sushi as fast as her rigging could carry her. Horrifying as it had been, that wasn’t the first mutant fish she’d seen. Cobra called them ‘aberrations’, claiming to have seen more and more of them lately. Many were aggressive, and none could be made into edible sushi. Nadia risked one last look over her shoulder, but saw no sign of the freakish Gazing Shark. Instead she spotted what looked like a cargo ship in the distance, slowly approaching in roughly the same direction. Thinking nothing of it, the catgirl turned her attention back to the restaurant.

A minute later, Nadia plopped down and cracked open the catch box, presenting its content for Bancho to assess. “Well? Doesn’t get much fresher than that!” She pressed an artifact, a pale blue ripened heart, to her chest to kickstart her regeneration.

Bancho grunted in approval. “It’ll be ready in thirty seconds.”

“I’ll get the music!” Dave declared.

After a moment, the low-key, twanging tune typical to Bancho Sushi gave way to a rap song that just so happened to have a lot of Korean lyrics. Nadia sauntered up and deposited a tantalizing dish of expertly prepared and habanero-treated bluefin tuna chutoro with sesame seeds and salty sea grapes. “Here you go dear customer~” Nadia told her in a painfully sweet voice. Even if she hated Juri, and the jerk probably wouldn’t even pay for this delicacy, she couldn’t help but be proud of her quick acquisition. Even if the smell of fish blood clung to her. “Don’t choke on it now~”

Meanwhile, down at the harbor not so far away, something peculiar seemed to be going down. Anyone with an eye for criminal activity who happened to be lingering -or biking- around might notice activities a little too clandestine and careful to be attributed to the average Mafia bumbler. Men supposedly belonging to the Yokohama Trading Company were working overtime to unload crates of shark fins from a barge to a small storehouse. A handful of buyers for local merchants had entered there, but in addition to purchased goods they left with bags that could only be full of pons, betrayed by their distinctive bulkiness. Nothing seemed criminal, but it did seem weird.



As Midna, Edelgard, and Pit conversed, a large silhouette cut through the sunset rays and cast a shadow over them. The beat of heavy, feathery wings reached them, followed by a throaty shriek. Many angels in the area joined them as they looked toward the disturbance, but rather than a cause for concern they found a source of ample reassurance: a majestic griffin with striking red feathers and golden armor. The angelic beast known as Ortho had fought alongside all of them once or twice, and though fiercely proud he boasted agility to match his ferocity. When he landed near the assembled angels, the Seekers spotted a familiar face riding him. “Heya!” She was Celia, one of Palutena’s attendants. With flowing white clothes, long straight blonde hair, and futuristic armor on both her long legs and fluffy white wings, the lovely spymaster seemed out of place out in the open. One could only assume she had business with the Seekers in particular.

“Ms. Edelgard!” After waving to the human, Celia stood up from Ortho’s saddle and fluttered down. “Lady Palutena wanted me to give you something. Though the loyalty you’ve earned from your unit is inspiring, we figured they’ve probably had enough of carrying you around.” Celia giggled, thinking of the last time she saw the fearless but flightless Edelgard being ferried between islands by two Feathershields. “So…here!” Grinning, she patted Ortho on his feathery neck. “He’s more of a red griffin than a black eagle, but I hope he’ll suffice!”

Just then, Palutena’s voice rang out telepathically, entering the minds of her various captains and lieutenants. “Hear me, soldiers of light. It’s time to commence the assault. Before night falls, let us expunge this foul corruption from our fair homeland. Go!”

Right away, Nathaniel’s baritone voice resounded across the staging ground. “We have our orders, let’s move, move, move! C’mon, we’re burning daylight!” For many of the angels present, that was no mere expression. Skills like Diurnal Guard, Row Resistance, Hastened Heal, and Photon Arrow all enjoyed extra effects as long as the sun still shined, and Nathaniel knew it. “Get those sorry wings in gear!”

Weapons at the ready, the heavenly host took flight. They spread out into platoons to make their approach, spread out enough to lessen the risk of AoE attacks and assault the Ivory Citadel from a dozen angles. In front of them, the old keep loomed large, sludgy black corruption visibly weeping from the cracks in its white facade. It looked especially bad atop the ramparts, where it formed into rows of vicious long spikes like those used to ward off pigeons, and the biggest deposits sat atop the Ivory Citadel’s two towers.

It didn’t take long for the opposition to respond. Out from the structure swarmed false angels like hornets from a kicked nest, two kinds called Catchet and Compassion that always worked in tandem, the smaller and more fragile Compassions running interference for the larger, more dangerous Catchets. With feathers like blades of gold they could inflict grievous wounds by hurling themselves around like arrows and drills. Along with them came their ranged brethren Dear and Decorations which behaved similarly but preferred to fire energy blasts by peeling back their marble flesh to expose their inner organs. As if that wasn’t enough, the strange Enraptures took to the balconies and battlements, their staves at the ready to launch magical attacks. Unfortunately for them, Feathershields came well-equipped to handle magic. Their Row Resistance and Mystic Shield skills could boost allies’ magic resistance, while Reflect Magic could return the Enraptures’ attacks to sender.

They could not, however, defend against gigantic harpoons of pitch-black corruption, hurled through the air with such dizzying speed that the first angel hit didn’t even get the chance to scream.

“Ballista!” Nathaniel roared, pointing his greatsword at the two towers. “The corruption has copied our siege engines! Get to cover, inside the citadel!”

“Those ballistae are our highest-priority targets!” Palutena ordered. “If you have the speed and power, hit them hard and fast!”

One angel spread her wings. “Going!” Uriel decreed, streaking through the air in a ray of light. A black bolt whizzed past her, but it was not fast enough, and the Hellguard’s leader descended on the ballista with all the speed she could muster. She was just one angel, however, and both siege engines were guarded. If someone of similar speed and power could target the other ballista and the corrupted angels that defended it, the skies would be reasonably safe once more.

As it was, however, the angels made a beeline for the windows and balconies of the Ivory Citadel, quickly overcoming the first layer of monsters and breaching the structure. Once inside, their mission was clear: destroy the corrupt cores that throbbed like beating hearts throughout the citadel, pumping infectious tar through its veins to the extremities. Of course, an absurd number of enemies stood between them and that goal. In addition to standard corrupted angels, the vicious and sneaky sycophants wielded enough intelligence to try and ambush their foes, while ayfids cast corruption like magic. The golems that once defended this fortress had long since fallen to the plague as well, their stony exteriors now shielding writhing cords and sinews of loathsome black. Worse still, many of the enemies in here would have the last laugh even once slain, giving rise to vengeful spirits that would pounce on their attackers, skeletal jaws gnashing, for one last attempt to even the score. Affinities could also be found in squads, not much threat by themselves, but they were never too far from one of the Citadel’s two minibosses. One was a hulking, axe-wielding, baby-faced marble goliath known as Beloved, while the other featured a face in its chest and a single, bladed tentacle arm: Belief.

When it came to facing Palutena’s enemies, however, the angels packed appreciable strength. Those under Uriel and Nathaniel fought with both martial prowess and advanced weapons, especially the Storm Wardens, but even the rank-and-file had their tricks. Featherbows could loose Delaying Shots to slow foes down, Saint’s Shot to deplete their stamina, and Photon Arrow to cripple the physical defense of two enemies at once. Better yet, they could unleash Shining Light to blind foes just prior to their attacks, guaranteeing a miss. With support like that, Featherswords could boost their speed and agility with Accelerate, then act as evasive tanks to wear foes down with debilitating attacks and cash their buffs out with Discharge followed by a Honed Slash, turning those blows into evasion-nullifying finishers. If the Featherstaffs couldn’t purge afflictions or heal their allies up fast enough, which they generally could, the Feathershields could slough off their afflictions onto their attackers with Mirror Weakness.

Still, within moments the assault turned into a chaotic and dangerous battle. It was up to Palutena’s elites to take charge and lead the assault into the Ivory Citadel’s heart.



About two-third of the way through his meal, Goldlewis found his contemplative solitude interrupted as a smartly-dressed man helped himself to a seat at his table. This was Roland, one of the comrades he dropped with last week, and as far as Goldlewis could remember he hadn’t seen the other man since they parted ways beneath the gaze of the main gate’s divine eye, at the top of Meridi-at-han’s interminable staircase. Like him, Roland was a former government employee, but instead of a cabinet member his new acquaintance had been a Turk, tasked with all sorts of unscrupulous work well out of the public eye. Furthermore, Roland continued to serve under the corrupt Shinra administration, while Goldlewis took his leave once Vernon left office. Of course, that went for Zenkichi and Benedict too, and to be fair none of them stuck around once awakened to the truth of their reality. Still, the two weren’t exactly friendly. The only time it had ever been just the two of them was back at the Pelican Inn in Everdream Valley, but just like today he kept himself at a distance, not saying much. Roland was just…there. Even without that mask he was oddly forgettable, even here in Meridi-at-han where his plain salaryman outfit stood out a lot more than in Midgar. Perhaps he didn’t mind living life as a ghost, but that sure wasn’t the veteran’s style. Larger than life and honest to a fault, Goldlewis would always stand as a beacon of strength, his powerful presence as unrelenting as the sun. But if Roland didn’t mind lingering in his shadow, Goldlewis wouldn’t either. There was plenty of room.

“It’s good,” he replied after a moment, the simplicity of his response belying the complexity of the tajine’s flavor profile. Goldlewis had never been the most adventurous when it came to food, but staying in Meridi-at-han for almost a week had given him a thorough appreciation of the spice of life, both literally and metaphorically. At Roland’s mention of the Grimm Troupe, the veteran cast his eyes back toward the impromptu carnival nearing completion in the plaza down below. Was Roland serious about being creeped out by those masks? Goldlewis had a hard time believing that. “I reckon it’s for the best,” he declared. “They’re all bugs, from what I hear, but if normal bugs were that big they’d be real nasty. So maybe we oughta count our blessin’s that they’re coverin’ ‘emselves up.” After such a rich and spicy stew, a close-up of insectoid mouthparts would definitely churn his stomach. The prospect of super-sized creepy crawlies was just one of the reasons why he didn’t plan to attend the Grimm Troupe’s act, but he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious.

Roland wasn’t the only person that Goldlewis managed to attract. Not long after the fixer arrived with his curry, a far more distinctive individual sauntered over, her light footsteps accented by the musical jangle of expensive baubles. Unlike Roland, Primrose didn’t take the veteran by surprise; she was somewhat who made every effort to be seen and remembered, her undeniable allure expertly utilized to plant irresistible seeds in the minds of her many admirers that could be nurtured and bear fruit when needed. Several times Goldlewis had seen her performing while out and about, but as talented a dancer as Primrose was, he never stopped to watch her craft for more than a second. Part of him didn’t want to be taken in by her enchantments, but for the most part he just didn’t want to give her any unwelcome attention. She had more than enough to deal with without having to worry about an old fart like him. But despite their differences, the two were comrades-in-arms, united in a shared purpose, so Goldlewis offered a cordial nod to both Primrose and her friend as they approached. “Howdy. I most certainly did not,” he told the dancer, jokingly using a hand to shield his bowl from her. “If you’re hungry, y’all better get your own grub.”

He beckoned for the two to take a seat, though for a moment he furrowed his brows at Kayna. While this reunion hadn’t been planned, he hadn’t placed himself in such a prominent position for nothing. In terms of gathering intelligence for the Seekers, Goldlewis felt as though he’d hit a dead end. He couldn’t turn up anything concrete beyond secondhand reports and hearsay while holed up here, so he’d been hoping to meet up with the others to see if they’d fared any better. Regardless, if the well had run dry here, they would need to move on. Plus, he couldn’t help but wonder how Gadd and the other techies were doing with their little science project aboard the Avenger. With Kayna here, however, the Seekers couldn’t speak plainly. Anyone still addled by Galeem’s light could be a pawn of the Consuls. Until she left, this would be nothing more than an ordinary meal.

Even as the ladies settled down for dinner, nobody could ignore the elephant in the room. Goldlewis sipped his beer as he watched the circus tent taking shape, its conical form and deep red coloration a far cry from the red-and-white striped drum he would’ve expected. Most striking of all was the main entrance, a massive mask like those of the troupe members with upturned eyes and a mouth that shone with scarlet lantern-light from within. Long-necked bugs resembling giant giraffe weevils lounged out front to bar the way in, their eyeless masks swiveling to stare at anyone who got too close before the appointed time, while a bulky fellow kept the onlookers entertained with the chords of an accordion made from the remains of a log-sized grub. Off to one side, a fortune-teller’s booth had been erected where one could meet a strange eccentric with a half-mask and a lower half little more than a massive, fleshy trunk. Known as Divine, this creature seemed to have quite the nose for tastes and scents, providing fortunes and fragrances if enticed with gifts.

The Witch saw all this and more as she wove out from the gathering throng of intrigued citizens and into the cluster of stalls, tents, and carts that surrounded the Grimm Troupe’s big top. The performers were busy, scuttling or floating here and there as they pounded stakes, knotted ropes, and planted braziers. As long as she shied away from the torch flames, she could remain relatively undetected. Small holes in the main tent permitted a peek inside, but she found only bugs busily setting up the galleries for the troupe’s imminent audience. Toward the back of the venue, though, she discovered something odd even for a circus of bugs. It was a metal wagon shrouded completely in silky black cloth, including the weevil steed that now rested nearby and a couple of spindly attendants. Even from a safe distance, though, the Witch could see a flicker of red light through the veil, and sense something foul and unnatural, burning and acrid–not just magic, but a curse. If she drew just a little closer toward a gap in the cloth, she could see a hint of a strange artifact inside, a vessel of wrought iron and stained glass that glowed with crimson flames that seemed to smolder like red eyes in the darkness of a nightmare.

Just then, a flock of bugbats burst up from their hiding place beneath the eaves of the big top nearby, buzzing noisily as they scattered. One of them fluttered toward the Witch, then past her to alight on a black claw protruding from the fibrous raiment of Troupe Master Grimm. His scarlet gaze stared at the little thing for a moment, then shifted pointedly to the Witch, a silent and scathing indictment.

”Good evening, madam.” His voice was a raspy whisper, sharp as a blade sliding over bone, formed not by a human voice but by an attempted recreation. ”You must be lost. Please, allow me to show you to a seat. The show is about to begin.” He bowed his head politely as he extended his clawed hand to the right, indicating the way back toward the big top’s entrance.

Not even a minute later, the floodgates were opened, and after paying a paltry sum of zenny each, men, women, children, and demihumans of all kinds poured inside. The seats filled up in no time flat, full of excited Meridi-at-han citizens wowed by the dark, eerie atmosphere. As anticipation continued to build, the lanterns suddenly went out, only for the scarlet torches of masked, ghostlike Grimmkin performers to light up a darkness filled with fluttering bugbats. As Brumm’s accordion-playing rose to a crescendo, and Divine’s voice filled the air, the insects of the Grimm Troupe began their fire dance, turning the confines of the circus tent into an awesome frenzy of pitch-black dark and dazzling blood-red light.



From his seat at the tavern, Goldlewis could watch the light of unnatural flames playing against the tent’s cloth, the twisted shadows forming and reforming in a wild tango. The sight only served to awe and fascinate more bystanders, encouraging them to pay the toll and duck into the tent to see the spectacle for themselves. He shook his head. “Whoo-wie. I woulda settled for seein’ bugs jugglin’, but that’s one helluva lightshow even from here.” All the same he kept himself on high alert. If it was all just a trick of the light he needn’t be concerned, but the sight of such magic reminded him of the frightful whispers exchanged beneath the breath of otherwise boisterous gossips whenever the topic of the Grimm Troupe came up. There were plenty of city guards all around, but they seemed overwhelmed. If these strange performers really were up to something, it would be up to the Seekers to step in.

With his eyes on the scene down below, Goldlewis didn’t notice the sudden ripple in the leftover broth of his stew, gone as soon as it came.

---

Was there any better feeling than wiping a smile off an optimist’s face? Well, yes. But it was definitely up there. It was hard to ‘get one over’ on someone like Juri. If all she wanted to do was annoy someone, she could get satisfaction from them pretending to not be annoyed. But messing with Miss Fortune was just a bonus, she was here to give a status report. When Miss Fortune sped off to make her something spicy, Juri looked around the place. There were some other Seekers over there. A turtle? And some weird looking girl.

”Okay, so, are you two just literally actually babies or what? I don’t get it.” She said suddenly, in return to Rika’s little greeting. As far as she could tell, the little turtle kid was an actual kid. She didn’t know what the deal with Rika was, though. She had a hard time parsing what kind of creature she even was. Her current choice of company inclined Juri to believe that she was also a baby, because who would hang out with a baby other than another baby?

Then she got on her phone, scrolling through social media. And some pictures of some chumps she had beaten up recently. Hearing Korean of all languages on the cool song that was playing was surprising. Juri probably hadn’t spoken a lick of the language since her fake life started here. So hearing the lyrics was a nice surprise.

Eventually Miss Fortune returned, smelling like fresh fish and fresher blood. Juri chuckled in disbelief. ”Did you have to go kill a fish right now? That’s so funny. I’m surprised any of it even got to me, kitty cat! Great job.” Juri ‘praised’ Fortune’s effort.

Juri wiggled her head and said a verse of the Hot Tuna Pepper song in Korean as she took a bite. She paused, eyes widening. Juri’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ and she sucked in a few breaths, to combat the spice, and then rapidly chewed the rest. ”This is-” She took another bit of tuna and ate it.

This was actually good. This was actually a good meal. ”All they had in that other place was fuckin’- cotton candy.” She said to the room, mouth full. This was the best meal she had eaten in a long time. Even before the World of Light. Something was different about Juri at that moment, but it was hard to put your finger on.

”Not bad. And Fortune had to work for a living. All in all, a good day.” She reached into a pouch and pulled out an appropriate amount of coins, plus tip. For the poor working cat girl, who she winked at with a snicker.

Eventually some more Seekers arrived, and Fortune had to stop playing pretend chef. When it seemed like everyone was ready to pay attention to each other, Juri began to speak. ”Okay kids, time to share what we learned. Show And Tell.” Juri grabbed her phone and flipped through her photos. Once she found the ones she was looking for, she flipped it out to hold it to the rest of them. Her smart phone had a pink case around it, and at the top were two plastic devil horns. They looked exactly like her old hairstyle, though only resembled her current ponytail.

When she spoke, her tone became more serious. ”There’s an underground community of poachers here that like to hunt rare, endangered animals. You know, for delicious dishes, trophies, bogus potions, or even real deal magic stuff. It only makes sense that a cooking mafia would want an edge over the competition with some uncommon morsels. Grease the right palms and you can meet up with anyone. Guardians can be big ugly monsters, right? Who else would know more about something like that?” She flipped through her phone and pulled up some blurry photos of what looked like a giant bird. The scale was hard to tell, but it was big.

”Giant bird. Not just any old bird, a super massive beast. The kind that isn’t so easily hunted by little jerks with little peashooters. Most of them have given up, and are going after easier prey. Between the dragon and the giant worm, I figure a freakin’ huge bird fits the bill of a Guardian. Reports say it’s nesting somewhere in the Twilight Forest, or at least it visits that place often.” Juri rolled her neck.

”I figure that’s a lead worth looking into. Not to mention this cool new gun and a boatload of money I made.” Juri said, smug. ”The Spider is back in business. Nothing like an honest days work, huh?” She flicked off her phone and put it back into her back pocket.

She rolled a spare coin from her pouch between her fingers. She looked off into the middle distanced and scoffed, thinking aloud. ”Poachers. Real skeevy, arrogant bastards. Definitely wouldn’t want to invite any to my birthday party. Might even mug one on the way outta town. But in this case, they turned out to be good for something. And considering we’re after rare beasts ourselves, we wouldn’t want to be hypocrites, would we?” Juri noted with a tilt of her head.

”Okay, who's next?”

Midna’s dower line of thinking was pushed back on by the optimistic Pit, and was fully interrupted by the arrival of one of Palutena’s Lieutenants, and that was perhaps for the best.

Not an angel, this one, Midna noted as she examined Edelgard, but that wasn’t exactly unheard of, as she’d seen a few here and there. Plus there there was, of course, the seekers themselves (or most of them anyway, minus pit).

Given the professional tone of the woman, it was hard to tell if this similarity was why she had sought out to touch base with them, as Minda might have in her position, or if it really was just a desire to get an idea of the unknown elements of the attack force. Either way, there was no reason not to respond to the request, it was always useful to know where more medical support could be found, and so she did just that.

She introduced herself simply as ”Midna” because what was a princess without her kingdom, standing and offering her free hand to shake (one holding her helm under it, the other two her new lyre).

”and I’ve been leading the new Twilight Guard for the past few days” she explained, nodding her head down to a now rather eclectically equipped squad of angels she’d had with her for a few days now. Night time attrition had been harsh on their numbers, but the survivors had been empowered by the spoils of it, Minda surreptitiously gathering and crushing spirits to produce armaments, trinkets and consumables out of fallen foes and friends alike. An eye for magic picked up from observing Sectonia had allowed her to lightly apprise what she got was good for who, and to avoid any corrupt artifacts such processes produced as well.

”and I’d say we’ve been making a good team, especially with this” she strummed her fingers along lyre’s chords ”which will punish anyone who dares attack one of my people”

”as for me, well, I have a few summon-able servants like this thing” she explained, referring to her flygon who was soaking in the setting sun’s rays, and then added that ”otherwise, I’m mostly destructive rather than supportive. If we end up fighting together, stand behind or beside me, and I’ll blast and slash every foe before us to pieces”

Which was, admittedly, difficult to coordinate with a team around, but her troops were now pretty in tune with giving her the space she needed to break whole squads of foes.

It wasn’t long before that coordination was put to the test once more.

Still, despite her intention of having them be part of the vanguard, the twilight guard was in high spirits, because they were fighting beneath the sun rather than the moon(s) for once, boosting their power significantly compared to what they were used to working with.

Fortunately, cloud cover would not be hampering that power, because as the princess and her squad blazed towards the tower, flying low, they were shadowed by one of her singing sandstorm swirling around them with them at its eye, obscuring them from the enemy's ranged firepower. Of course, this also made it hard to shoot back, but that wasn’t their concern, as the princess set a blistering pace, diving straight for the platform out front of the castle that led to its main gates.

While the ranged forces could do little but pepper the sand with blindly fired shots, the corruption did have flying forces of its own to spare, sending blighted angels and Catchet and Compassions diving down into the storm.

Unfortunately for them, they were met with a shocking surprise.



Thunder roared and foes with charred fell from the clouds, easy pickings for feather bows to spin and snipe with shimmering enchanted bows, killing the weak, and slowing those still mostly intact so that the vanguard could simply leave them in the dust.

Ahead of them the vague shape of the tower seen through the sand grew closer and closer, prompting her melee troops to pop spicy empowering draughts and vials of shimmering liquid fortune right before battle was joined.

When it was, Midna’s sandstorm washed over the landing pad, blinding and thunder striking its defenders, before blasting upwards to clear the skies just in time for the princess and her troops to make landfall.

Leaping from her flygon, the princess dove down with a cyclone kick charged by her storm, smashing into the shield of a corrupted angel, and then crescent moon slashed a serrated knife through the visor slit of the stunned foe. She then dropped to the ground surrounded by its ashes, summoning and sicking her beast legion on a foe to her left while her flygon dove down upon another to her right, and her feathers dove down to take the foes behind her.

That left those before her, more corrupted angels holding the bridge from the platform of the front gates, covering for a retreating enrapture.

Just where she wanted them.

Her shadow hand whipped forwards, grabbing a charging corrupted angel, before smashing it to the side, knocking two others clear off the side of the platform in the process, before hurling her grabbed victim after the enrapture. Then she lunged forward with the knife she had charged, her electrified blade meeting the searing hot sword of another foe only for them to be struck by the lighting stored in the blade.

”stupid as always” she taunted it before she grabbed the foe’s shield with her free hand and pushed it aside as she kept their blades locked, then slashed a dragon clawed hand across the former feather-shield's throat, briefly pausing her lyre playing to do so, before kicking the dissolving body back into the final of the 6 who had stood in her way.

It stumbled, promptly got a serrated knife tossed into its shoulder and then Midna was on it, cleaving the gunblade revolver out of the twilight realm in a two handed slash, hacking it into its side. A moment after there was the sound of a gunshot as Midna triggered the gunblade’s strike enhancing shockwave too late to make proper use out of it.

”tch, still not getting that right” she complained as she deflected a clumsy retaliatory sword blow with one of the metal ‘horns’ of her lyre of all things, and then flicked a machete out of a portal to finish off the final melee fighter.

At least the final one that had been on the ground. They only had moments before more started coming from above though her electrical cloud cover, or, worse, tried to get around it. Plus there was still the enrapture, now turning after finding the front gate bared by its fellow slightly smarter corrupt angels.

Both it and said gate were going to be a problem.

She dealt with both in the same way.

Behind the gate, the commander of the tower had set up a perfect killing field made up of a ring of barricades made out of furniture overgrown with corruption, ranged troops placed behind them, the gaps between held by constructs and the skies above by corrupted angels. Mindless as they were (the Affinities who had barred the door had bid a hasty retreat), they had not left their posts since positioned in their posts, nor did they tense in nervous anticipation for the inevitable breach.

They also didn’t react to the sound of revving blades, nor the brief moment of grinding stone before the gates (and part of the wall) exploded in response to Midna cleaving and shredding through them using the titanic dead end express.

The flying rubble and wash of electrified sand that rushed in did however do plenty to throw their aim off, burning arrows striking rubble or shields as the princess and her melee soldiers rushed through the breach. Ahead of them, two portals opened, unleashing mdina’s darknut and wolfos for a few moments, each titan splashing through a barricade before vanishing just as fast to let the soldiers through.

The ambush was thrown into disarray in moments as feather shields and swords stormed the barricades while feather bows entered and turned their arrows to the sky to slow and weaken the enemy fliers before they could dive down into the fray.

Unfortunately this is where Midna’s plan truly made contact with the enemy commander, as a pair of sycophants who had been clinging to the roof above the door, high up enough to avoid both rubble and sand, dropped down right into the bow's ranks once their front-line had pulled away from them.

Cries of alarm rang out as two of their numbers were cut down by the assassin’s descending strikes. The subsequent strikes were less lethal without gravity on their side, allowing the feather staffs to keep them alive, but the move still left Midna’s ranged core into disarray as archers scrambled to get clear or struggled to get a shot off without the risk of crossfire.

Midna, ears drowning in the sound of battle as well as her own words and music, was deaf to this crisis.

Her troops were not however, nor had their order of battle been wholly unprepared for this, as a pair of the rearguard who’d been positioned to hold the entrance from attackers coming in from outside turned and entered the fray. The swift feather swords darted between the bows, one delivering a deliberating strike with a golden blade to prevent an assassin from chasing after the bows, another parrying a sword blow and earning the offending assassin a barrage of musical bolts from Midna’s lyre.

It was that automatic retaliation that informed her of the crisis ongoing behind her, the princess spinning with a curse and sprinting back to help. Using Roxas’ flowmotion style she leapt off of the barricade she’d been to secure on, wall jumped off one of the remains of the shattered gates, launching herself clear over the heads of the bows to give the assassin a taste of its own medicine.

”Get away from them!”

Her serrated knife cleaved into the base of one of its broken wings, a dragon clawed foot dug into the small of its back, and then she slashed her war fan down its spine. Her beast legion simply phased through her allied troops in order to follow her, the invisible untouchable chimera allowing its claws to interact with the physical world just long enough to cleave into the other assassin.

Tables turned on them by the flanking attacks, the pair of foes went down to sword strikes and a flurry of arrows. It did not, however, end there, as a pair of vengeful spirits ripped themselves from the bodies of the corrupted angels as they fell. One was cut down by a feather sword, but the other slammed right into Midna as the assassin dissolved beneath her, jaws biting at her chestplate, not at all perturbed by the electricity flowing through the armor.

She slammed into the ground, arms smacked to each side, weapons clattering to the floor, Yet before they could find out if she could get her claws into it before it could swap from trying to bite through her armor to finding a softer target, a rune engraved shield smashed into it, emitting a flash of light as it knocked it aside. It flew up and attempted to swirl round to strike it again, only to be nailed by a glowing arrow from one of the feather bows.

”Thank you again” Midna said, as she was helped to her feet by the same feather shield who had caught her during their first night time engagement. Behind him the rest of the rearguard was rushing in to help, while behind them, a second platoon had arrived to make use of this largest of breaches into the tower, and in doing so had removed a need for her own to guard their rear.

And just in time too, because even as their front-line were securing the barricades, a counter assault came rushing in, pinning them against the very barricades they had just claimed.

”Goddesses preserve us, we need to get in there!” Minda cursed before rushing back to the front lines who’d been without ranged and magic support due to the drop into their back-lines, her troops charging alongside her. Feather staves raced ahead along with the melee fighters to make up for lost time, delivering a burst of healing to those fighters already engaged, while feather bows rose up and to fire over the tops of the barricades at the counter attacker.

With their formation reformed, and reinforcements right behind them, the Twilight Guard held the gatehouse against the retaliation strike, securing it as a point of entrance for the rest of the attack, but after that they had to pause to catch their breaths.

And count their dead.

For being the vanguard, it could have been oh so much worse, but still, each death had her cursing whatever it was that had allowed the corruption to be more coordinated here than it had before.

She didn’t get long to do so before the next crisis, as the reinforcements who had arrived and then pushed past them ran into trouble. Specifically, as Midna raced ahead of her troops on wolfos back in response to the cries of help said troops had heard, they had run into entrenched Affinities providing musical fire support for the hulking form of Belief.

”Pull back, focus on the smallfry!” Midna called out to the troops as she charged into the fray, her own troops hot on her heels, because ”This thing’s mine!”

As Geralt made his way downtown (literally, in Mafia Town’s case), an abundance of activity at the docks caught his eye. He’d heard somebody had caused a ruckus there the previous day, and from the descriptions he’d heard, it could be no other than the abandoned royal children, Junior and Rika. They’d attacked some of the mafia that watched over the dock and took ‘their cut’ of the incoming fish, leaving the rest to the sailors that had brought them in. Good on them.

Returning his attention to the present, Geralt’s eyes narrowed when he noticed just how…professional…the unloaders were being. That wasn’t the local Mafia’s incompetence at work, and Geralt diverted his path to get closer to the docks, watching them carefully from above. The men moved smoothly and quickly, bringing their haul of shark fins into a nearby storehouse. Why only the fins, Geralt had no idea. Perhaps they were of particular medicinal value?

Stalking closer, Geralt realized that they only had one lookout, and he was watching the sea. Idiots… he thought to himself, jumping down to land on the ground level of the dock, to the side of the storehouse. He calmly walked around the side, acting every bit as if he belonged here, and turned the corner before walking in the entrance.

Inside the storehouse was a hive of activity. The mysterious dock workers hugged the sides of the storehouse, bringing the product in as far away from the customers as they could be, keeping out of the way for whatever business was being conducted here, out of the public eye. Geralt’s eyes darted to and fro, and once he managed to catch an actual transaction taking place, he frowned. What kind of place gives you something for free, and gives you money on top of that? Gotta be something fishy going on here.

Knowing he would be caught if he didn’t play along, he joined the back of a line of people waiting to ‘purchase’ some pearls, listening carefully. “Alright, these are the pearls that you ordered, and this is your rebate.” The man running this stall said. “Count them if you like, but it’s all there. One dozen pearls, all at or above our guaranteed quality, and ninety pons back. You can’t beat our prices. One dozen pearls for 30 pons, total. You just have to pay the insurance deposit first, and when it all comes back okay, you get everything that you asked for.”

Geralt’s brow furrowed. That wasn’t an unheard of business model on the Continent, especially when it came to shipping goods to Skellige, but it was frowned upon by more honest merchants. If the ship was lost, investors would just come with bodyguards and take back their ‘deposits’ anyway. He supposed this area of the World of Light wasn’t devoid of danger, especially in the ocean, but something about this was bothering him. When the man who had just received his product passed Geralt by, something tugged at his gut. Whoever was in charge wasn’t running an honest operation, he just had to figure out what the catch was.

A few more people received their pearls and their ‘rebate’ of pons, and Geralt was near the front of the line, still thinking and trying to calmly observe his surroundings to see if he could catch anything off. The man in front of him had clearly ordered a massive haul, receiving ten dozen pearls and a bag of pons larger than he could carry. One of the workers, who had just offloaded his merchandise and was headed out to the ship to get more, was ordered to help carry the bag of pons, and when a few spilled out, Geralt was quick to act. Grabbing one of the fallen pons, he dextrously swapped it with one of his own before handing his own pon over to the worker with a nod. When the pair turned to leave, Geralt faced the man running the stall. “What’s the deposit for a dozen pearls?” The man looked at Geralt as if he were talking to an idiot.

“What, did you not hear it the half-a-dozen times I said it before you got up here? A hundred twenty pons for a dozen. Ten pons a pearl, and you get ninety pons back when the haul comes in. If the ship goes down, you’re out of luck. It hasn’t happened yet, but I have to warn you that it’s a possibility.” Geralt nodded, giving a dejected-looking shrug.

“I don’t have that kind of money on me right now, but I can try to scrounge it up, ask a friend. When will you be here next?” He asked, keeping the ruse going.

“The ship comes into port every few days. You’ll find us here, in the same spot. We can’t always be certain how the tides will go, or if the ship will fill early, so the schedule isn’t strict, but keep a careful eye out, and you’ll see us.” The man advised. “Now, if you aren’t able to make an order at this time, I do have to request that you not loiter. I have more customers to help. Good evening, sir.” He quickly transitioned to helping the next person in line, as Geralt left the storehouse, waiting until he was a good distance away before checking the pon he’d swapped.

Fake pons. Clever. Have to imagine they’re not all fake, though they’re giving far too many back for most to be real. Surprising that nobody’s caught on yet. If they have, wonder if they’re just killed or if they handle it some other way? Geralt’s musings took him to Bancho Sushi, where he had originally been heading.

Entering the restaurant, Geralt nodded when he saw that Nadia, the kids, and Juri were all there. Therion and Falcon must have been off doing their own things. He caught the tail end of Juri’s explanation of there being a giant bird nearby, and hummed. “Doubt that’s the same one we fought at Black Bay? Bird that size must move quite a bit, but ‘giant bird’ isn’t exactly descriptive or rare, I imagine.”

Shrugging, he got to his own information. “Found a counterfeiting ring. Fake pons.” To illustrate, he pulled out the fake pon he’d snatched, as well as one of his real ones. “Fake one is a little lighter, slightly different material. Smells differently, as well. They smell…wrong, somehow. Wrong the same way smoke does in fresh air. It’s not quite what we were going for, but I haven’t had quite as much time to really scope this area out. They’re at the docks right now, but aside from fraud and counterfeiting, I’m not sure if they’re up to anything truly shady. Might have to investigate further to tell, though, and they won’t be back for a few days after they go out again.”

It wasn’t a solid lead by any stretch of the imagination, but it was the only real one he’d gotten.

Roxas’ time in Skyworld had been relatively simple in comparison to the other Seekers he had arrived with. Unlike Pit and Midna - who had all been dedicating much of their time to fighting the corruption known as the Gloom - Roxas had instead been trying to study it more than anything. It started out as a simple curiosity as to how the Gloom worked, and Roxas wondering if it was anything like the Darkness he was used to seeing. Well, it sort of morphed into Roxas becoming a scout of sorts. His initial curiosities had led to him taking on the role of a scout to survey areas corrupted by the Gloom in order to document its effects and maybe even discover a way to combat it or purge it outright, however slim those chances were.

Whatever data Roxas collected with his Rotom Phone, he’d made a habit of sharing it with Celia. The seemingly-cyber angel was essentially in charge of most of the recon and information-gathering, so whatever findings Roxas discovered could be handed directly to Palutena by her. Of course, so far, Roxas’ findings amounted to precious little. He’d quickly figured out that the “darkness” of the Gloom was not actually the same as the “Darkness” he was familiar with. It was more of a germ, or plague than anything else. This meant that Roxas had to be careful about keeping his distance lest he be corrupted himself. But his surveying wasn’t all for nothing, as his efforts did also allow the angels to keep a good tab and where the Gloom was spreading to and react accordingly. So it’s not like his efforts were all a complete bust.

The other thing the Nobody tried to be on the lookout for was the Gloom’s source. From his few days of exploring and surveying, he noticed that the corruption looked worse as one got closer to the third corrupted island. In fact the island itself didn’t even look much like an island at this rate. Instead it looked like a nasty mass of tarry sludge and yellow crystals. His gut instinct told him that if there’s a source to all this, it had to be in there somewhere. He wondered at first if that could be the work of a Guardian, like the one that was spreading an infection in the Under. But Skyworld was in the Sandswept Sky, so Roxas had a feeling there wasn’t a Guardian to be found up here. But it never hurts to check, anyway.

But during all this, the Gloom itself wasn’t the only thing Roxas had been observing. A few of the creatures making their home on the sky islands were actually Pokemon that Roxas was able to identify with the Rotom Phone. Species such as Sigilyph, Togetic, and Flaaffy could be sparsely found on a couple of the islands in addition to creatures that the Rotom Phone couldn’t identify. But there was one particular Pokemon that Roxas had been keeping tabs on - a Golett. It was unlike any other Pokemon Roxas had seen thus far, even other Goletts. It wasn’t gleaming and therefore that meant it had to be New Life. From what Roxas could tell, it seemed a little lonely, almost like Golett could tell it was different from the others somehow but didn’t understand why. And Roxas wanted to help it with that, and take it with him if he could. He just needed to find a good chance to approach it.

And today would be that day. Roxas had decided to switch to his Twilight Town Clothes that day so that he could hopefully approach Golett without trying to startle or scare it off by looking combat ready. He walked closer to it as the Golett appeared to be staring at a reflection of itself in a nearby pond.

”Hi there, Golett.” Roxas said gently. The Pokemon stirred and turned to look at the human who had approached it, ”It’s okay, I’m not here to hurt you. My name’s Roxas.” Roxas gestured toward himself as he spoke his name.

“Gol…?” came a vaguely mechanical-sounding whisper of a voice from the Pokemon as a response. It wasn’t afraid yet, but there did seem to be a bit of nervousness that was ultimately outweighed by the Pokemon’s own curiosity. Namely because Golett was noticing that Roxas was like itself - not gleaming.

”You’ve probably noticed that you’re not like the other Pokemon around here, haven’t you?” Roxas guessed, which elicited a sad nod from Golett. ”I can’t imagine how lonely that must be. But you don’t have to be alone anymore, not if you don’t want to be. Have a look.” Roxas released Scamp and Shocker from their Poke Balls so that Golett could see that they, too, were the same. ”See? They’re like you! We can all be your friends.” Roxas held out an empty Poke Ball as an offering.

Golett stared at it with consideration, and then took a heavy lung backward while putting up its fists. Despite the defensive gesture, it looked like it was lit up with excitement.



”Ah, I get it. You wanna test us first. Okay, Scamp, you’re up!” with that, the Yamper took his position and barked with a bow-wark. ”Use Nuzzle!” Roxas called out. He smartly wanted to inflict paralysis to make the rest of the battle more smooth for him. Or, at least, it would have been smart if not for Golett being a Ground type.

Scamp bounded up to Golett and performed the move as instructed. But the move didn’t seem to do anything and instead Golett swatted Yamper away with a Shadow Punch. ”Why didn’t it work?” Roxas questioned, then tried to find the answer on his Rotom Phone. ”What, Ground type? Uh oh.” Once Golett’s typing became apparent, Roxas thought he might be in trouble since both his Pokemon were Electric types. And sure enough Golett was jumping up to perform a ground type move called Stomping Tantrum.

”Scamp get outta there!” Roxas suddenly called with urgency. He managed to recall Scamp into his Poke Ball before he could take massive damage from the attack. How was he going to deal with a Pokemon that was immune to all of his strongest attacks and whose own moves were super effective against his team? ”Hmm, give it a shot, Shocker. Use Confuse Ray!”

“Ro-to-to-to!” The Rotom called out with his electronic voice. Meanwhile, Golett was trying to use Stomping Tantrum again, a move whose power doubled if the previous attack missed or failed. But luckily Roxas’ hunch proved right. Shocker was completely unaffected by Ground moves thanks to his floating in the air! As such, the Rotom was able to get off its Confuse Ray without a hitch. This made Golett stagger about in confusion.

”Use Double Team!” Roxas called. He thought it would help Shocker avoid taking a super effective Shadow Punch, although he didn’t know that Shadow Punch was a particularly special move that couldn’t miss. For now it didn’t matter. While Shocker multiplied himself, Golett continued to stagger around and accidentally hit itself in confusion when it tried to attack with a Shadow Punch.

”Now hit it with Air Slash!” Roxas called. Shocker’s fan blades began to spin and fired off a gust of razor-sharp wind at the staggering Golett. The attack connected and did decent damage, not enough for a knock out - which was fine because that wasn’t Roxas’ goal anyway.

”Here we GO!” Roxas said as he lobbed an empty Poke Ball at the still-confused Golett. The Ball struck and opened up to pull Golett inside and then landed on the ground while snapping shut. The Poke Ball wiggled once, then twice, then… click. ”Yeah, we did it!” Roxas celebrated, even releasing Scamp and Golett out of their Poke Balls. Roxas and Golett bumped their fists together, a new partnership forged.

---

Later that same evening, Roxas finally made it to the Crystal Spire where the other Seekers had gathered. He was admittedly a bit late, primarily because his own activities made it a bit harder for him to call for a ride away from the corrupted sky islands he explored. And because he changed back into his Mission Clothes after arriving back from his scouting. But nevertheless, he was there now, just after Edelgard had approached the group and made her introduction.

”Sorry… I’m late…” he said in between gasps for breath, indicating that he’d been sprinting there after he got dropped off by his angel carriers. He took a few moments to catch his breath, during which time the other Seekers were introducing themselves to Edelgard - whom Roxas was only just now realizing was standing next to him.

”Ah, I’m sorry!” He apologetically said and saluted the obviously higher-ranked lieutenant. ”I’m Roxas.” He said. ”I don’t exactly have a fancy rank or anything, but I’ve been helping Celia with scouting corrupted islands.”

Unfortunately, he didn’t exactly get a chance to say much else. Palutena’s big announcement came and a lot of angels suddenly started barking orders and mobilizing into action. The same was true of his friends too. So much so that both Midna and Sectonia had gone before Roxas could ask either of them for a lift. And obviously none of the angels could afford to carry someone when they were all going into battle like this.

He looked around and realized that Edelgard hadn’t taken off yet with her newly-acquired mount. And so despite only having just met her, Roxas found himself awkwardly approaching and speaking with a sheepishly embarrassed look on his face. ”Um, would you mind if I… uh, you know?” He was gesturing toward Ortho. Obviously being one of the only other wingless people in Skyworld, Roxas was very much in need of a ride to get to the battle.

”Normally I’d get a lift from Midna or Sectonia, but… you know… I was late and all.”

The Captain’s deliveries were all going quite well, to say the least. But that wasn’t any kind of news. Falcon’s skills in that department were superb and so it would have been more odd if he didn’t do well here. Well, he was distracted at times by his scanning the various parts of the harbor for any sign of the man Zhao was looking for, and so that occasionally affected his payouts. But the payouts weren’t the main goal here, so that didn’t mean much to Cap at this time.

What wasn’t going so well was his search. He still hadn’t seen any sign of the guy he was looking for. Funnily enough, he spotted Therion at one point although the thief looked to be leaving the harbor when he did. It was smarter not to approach him and draw attention anyway. But Therion wasn’t who Cap was on the lookout for, and he honestly wasn’t sure how much longer he planned to keep going before calling it a night.

One of the things that did catch his attention was the group claiming to be from a “Yokohama Trading Company”. That name wasn’t familiar to Falcon, but the way the unloaders and other workers looked and operated seemed promising. They’re looks and style of dress seemed vaguely similar to the man he was looking for, although none of them was an actual match. Still, Cap decided he should probably try to hang around this particular area for a while and see if it panned out.

And that of course meant narrowing down his area for pickups and deliveries. Normally that would limit one’s earning potential, but once again, that wasn’t Cap’s current objective. And besides, the harbor was full of things he could potentially ramp and trick his bike off of in an attempt to generate extra stunt points for his deliveries. As long as he was careful not to disturb any of the contents in the shipping containers or any of the people working around them.

During this stint of monitoring, Falcon caught sight of another familiar face - Geralt. Cap’s rather over-the-top riding performance made him rather hard to miss so it was safe to assume that the Witcher might have spotted him at some point. Although with Falcon currently using his lack of helmet as a disguise it wasn’t likely Geralt would recognize him. And like with Therion earlier, trying to approach him or send him some kind of signal would draw unnecessary attention. So Cap figured it was best to let Geralt be for the time being. The man was something of a bounty hunter like himself, so Falcon was sure he could trust that Geralt wasn’t up to anything bad.

”Hmm, still no sign of that fellow.” Falcon said to himself after he had brought his bike to a stop in order to give himself a short break. ”Maybe he’s not here after all. Should I call it quits or give it some more time?” He asked himself. Although as he was pondering that, Cap had no idea that all the operations in the harbor - including his own food deliveries - were being watched by a certain mercenary from somewhere on the upper levels.