”If you can keep up, be my guest” Midna called back to Pit’s offer of aid, before her wolfos leapt over Belif’s initial lash of its whip like limb, before darting behind it and opening a portal.

”but you best be quick because this thing is about to-” she added as out of which her darknut rose at titanic size, blade held aloft and ready to ”-fall!”

The titanic blade came crashing down, only for Belief to demonstrate exactly how it had managed to get the drop on the group of angels it had been tearing apart, as rather than stand there and take it like the lumbering brute it looked like, it instead dodged by bursting forward towards Pit just as the angel had let lose his arrow.

With all the speed and mass of a literal freight train, leaving Pit’s arrow chasing after it as both it and its target came racing towards him.

There wasn't any time to dodge, and the collision looked imminent. Then arcs of electricity both violet and violent burst out from the space Pit had just occupied, while the angel himself skated to a safe point nearby at the speed of lightning. It was another trick he'd picked up thanks to one of the spirits he'd fused with last week, one too useful not to have gotten the hang of quickly.

"That quick enough for you?" Pit said cheekily, partly at Midna and partly at their foe. That burst of speed from the false angel had surprised him, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

Belief completed its charge, using its tentacle to wrap around a nearby support pillar and swing itself to a stop while facing its opponents. Having passed through the electricity, small jolts of purple static still clung to it. The monstrosity let out a disturbing noise somewhere between a roar and a baby's babbling before it raised its arm up and whipped it at Pit. With a flick of his hand Pit's bow became two swords - he raised them in an X-shape, catching the tentacle between them. It was a powerful blow, but Pit stood firm even if his knees threatened to buckle. It lashed out at him a few times, just as fast with its arm as it was with its legs, putting the boy's block and deflecting skill to the test.

"Fast and heavy? That's just cheating!" He punctuated his comment with a parry that threw the gilded limb to the side, letting him deliver a flurry of slashes against it.

Belief whined and jumped back, putting space between them. Unfortunately for it, Pit could just switch his weapon back to bow form. It didn't hesitate to put a few more light arrows into the air, all aimed at the monster's porcelain face. Its tentacle arm sprawled up into the air again, though this time it didn't come straight down. It curled around one of the Affinities still alive, dragging it forward in order to block Pit's arrows. Then it drew back and chucked the lesser false angel at Pit before repeating the process even faster, sending a few flailing enemies Midna's way, leaving her swinging like she was in a batting cage, slapping angels out of the air with her shadow hand. With Palutena's angelic troops keeping their distance so that their commanders could fight freely, the Affinities were all it had access to - until it ran out of those and began ripping up the citadel itself.

"Hey!" Pit dashed toward Belief lest it bring the floors above down on top of them, firing a dash shot as he went. The false angel put its legs to work once more, evading the arrow and sprinting back towards Midna with a chunk of stone in its grip coming at her like a massive sledgehammer.

Rather than stay there and take this, she counter charged. She didn’t do this on the back of her regular wolfos, but instead the one that had had a pile of cyborgs shoved into it.

A process that had turned it into a living motorcycle.

”How’s this for speed!” she called out as she blazed towards Belief, the rocket boosters and maw of her semi-mechanical steed roaring as she re-entered the fray. As she and Belief closed, it drew back its concrete sledge hammer, to deliver a sweeping smash, only for Midna to flow motion leap off of her bike at the last moment. The bike-beast went down into a portal to avoid the swing, while Midna rose above and then crescent moon slashed the dead end express out of her realm and down on top of Belief.

Whirling blades of the titanic mace dug into it, spinning in forward gear so that it more or less dragged Midna over the top of Belief, causing her to be flung forwards, momentum added to the charge. That could have made for quite the messy landing, had the princess not pulled herself in, onto the back of the weapon as it switched modes.

A moment later she crashed down behind Belief, now riding the dead end express itself as a motorcycle. This was, it had to be said, a bit more of an unwieldy ride given that this one was all machine with no animal instincts to course correct her driving, but she still managed to skid to a halt nearby Pit, making a right mess of the stone floor in the process.

”Care for a ride?” she asked, as her bike beast exited a portal next to her to offer exactly that. Just in time for Belief to hurl its chunk of stone back at them as an opening for another charge. A quick summon of the Guardian Orbitars saw the projectile reflected back at Belief, though it bulldozed right through it. This came after Pit's enthusiastic response to Midna of "Definitely!" as he took the offer and climbed onto the back of her cyborg canine.

Belief barreled towards them with a mighty whip lash that split the duo up and further shattered the floor that Midna had roughed up. Unused to riding mounts (but unwilling to pass up such a cool ride), Pit more or less relied on his borrowed beast bike to outmaneuver Belief, at least for the moment. As the false angel attacked in a furor with its arm cutting through the air in an effort to slice its opponents to ribbons, the altered wolfos ducked and dodged with its charge on its back. Pit ducked with it, but for the most part he opened fire. Light arrows in three colors buzzed around Belief, striking at multiple angles to probe for any weak spots.

Midna for her part used her minions to fight while she focused on evasive driving, having her flygon do an overhead dragonbreath flyby, and otherwise sticking close enough that her intangible beast legion could slash and claw at Belief at its leisure.

She managed to evade the strikes for the most part, but Belief ended its rapid strikes with a wide 360 spin with the blades on its tentacle poised to shear anything it hit, it managed to clip Midna’s transforming bike. It toppled sending the princess skidding across the floor at high speed, bouncing once, fortunately on her chest armor, and then using her magical hands and metal feet, and general lack of friction to avoid having her flesh shredded as she skidded across the floor like it was ice.

At least until she lost enough momentum to dig her dragon claws into the ground to bring her to a halt.

The dead end express meanwhile slammed into a wall somewhere, taking out a few Affinity that had been trying and failing to blast the two bikers with their musical implements of war. Knocked off of her’s however, the princess became a more tempting target to those that remained, the princess having to roll out of the way of a laserbeam fired from a sousaphone, only to then see Belief charging straight at her.

With little else at hand but the war fan she’d been charging in her free hands while driving, the princess hurled the diminutive weapon towards her foe with a cry of ”Get lost!” before trying to scramble to her feet. The fan, electricity crackling within, and wind swirling around it, clipped Belief as it flew, causing lightning to arch down upon it, but this hardly upset its charge.

The way the wind element interacted with the purple static Pit had inflicted didn’t slow it either, but the resulting Swirl reaction of chain lightning lashing out from Belief did at least blast the remaining Affinities as it jumped between them.

This did also free up the other angels, who had been fighting around the edge of the arena against both Affinities and other false reflections of themselves, and as thanks they provided just what was needed: a flurry of delaying shots to give Minda the time to dodge. As well as give Pit the ability to catch up.

Midna's wolfos carried the angelic captain swiftly back into the fray, chasing after the charging monstrosity. His arrows were dealing damage, that much was clear from the hairline fractures in Belief's gilded body that began to form in the places they struck, but they didn't have the stopping power needed to really turn things in the heroes' favor. Pit bid the beast to get them into melee range where he could deal some real damage, and it obliged. After Midna had gotten out of its way, Belief stomped one of its feet to come to a stop. Even slowed it turned to follow after her with its tentacle-like arm thrashing until it came under attack by Pit's twin swords.

Deciding to do a little slowing of its own, Belief opened its 'mouth' and ejected a sticky mucus. A lucky shot got Pit's borrowed mount, sticking it in place on the ground. Belief whipped its arm around then, lashing out multiple times in every direction - at Midna, the flying pest that was her Flygon, any Feathers that dared to try getting closer to assist, and at Pit and the trapped wolfos.

On one side of the thrashing beast, Minda was stuck focusing entirely on evasion, claws digging into the torn up ground as she leapt to and fro, having only time to catch her war throne as it boomeranged back to her. Her beast legion, however, once again simply ignored their foes' strikes, claws swiping at it, yet unable to deliver impactful enough blows to throw off the stalwart speedster.

”Stay clear!” she commanded the Feathers, but they didn’t have to get close to help, as the staffs offered radiant healing from afar for the fighters' wounds.

On the other side of the monster, rather than abandon the wolfos as it went about freeing itself, Pit put himself between it and the false angel. His blades flashed as he deflected the striking limb, intending to hold out until its stamina ran out. The moment came when its attacks decelerated, and Pit darted forward to take advantage of what looked like an opening. Belief only changed tactics, and it twisted its arm around to snatch Pit off of his feet.

Pit let out a squawk, both surprised and pained. Its grip was crushing, and on top of that it felt like it was siphoning his energy. Worse still, rather than give its captive an easy time breaking out, Belief slammed Pit against the stone floor.

He didn't stay dazed for long, especially when worried cries of "captain!" came from around the edges of the room. As Belief raised its arm up for another go, Pit mustered his strength and pushed against the hold, loosening the tentacle enough to slip out. He spread his wings, jumping up off of Belief's arm and over its head. Pit raised his own arm, his bow disappearing as the Upperdash Arm encased it. It whirred to life, the disc on the front spinning wildly.

"That all you got?!" he jeered, slamming the weapon down hard into one side of the monster’s face. The impact sent large cracks running throughout its armor, making the same greenish slime it had spit up earlier start to leak out. Belief teetered backward, knocked off of its feet and landing heavily on its back.

”Let’s not find out” Midna called out in suggestion she and her legion raced past Pit and then round opposite sides of the toppled titan, wrapping the astral chain connecting them together around their foe, briefly binding and keeping it from rising.

”Now stay down!” she commanded it, as her cybernetic wolfos dashed in, leapt up onto Belief, a glow in its neck growing as it did so. Before it could unleash its point blank shot the cherub-like face on Belief suddenly shifted to the side, sending it stumbling off of it, and revealing its fleshy toothy maw. Out of this its tongue lashed up and out, striking the mecha-wolfos and causing it to misfire skywards, before swirling it around like it was licking its chops.

These things are always so gross once their armor comes off! Pit thought. He'd landed with his swords back in his hands, wasting no time in dashing forward to press the attack while Midna had Belief pinned. He slashed at its tongue, drawing blood and making the monster whine as it pulled its tongue back into its mouth, struggling in its hold.

"Keep it locked down 'til it's dead!" Pit requested of the Twilight Princess, slicing into the gaps in Belief's exoskeleton. The angels that had formed a ring around the arena took it open themselves to follow his words as though they were an order, and open fired with their arrows and ranged abilities to pile on the damage and keep the monster debuffed. They were joined in this by the mecha-wolfos, who howled at the sky and caused a rain of 6 lighting bolts to hammer down and around the grounded false angel.

Belief heaved against the astral chain, shooting its thorned tongue out once more. With a diagonal cut Pit parried its latest whip, and using his own momentum he spun, putting the bladed bow back together and using both hands to slash the appendage in two with a strong swing of his sword.

”Trying. But. it's. going to.” Mdina strained, two hands clutching the chain, the other two the beast the other end was held onto as Belief thrashed, rocking back and forth till it managed to stab its tail like whip into the ground and proceeded to throw itself to the side with the leverage. Princess and beast legion were hurled alongside it, both going skidding across the floor as Belief flipped to its feet: outer facade cracked and oozing, but still with fight left in it.

Pit circled around, bow with reversed blades in hand. His eyes flicked between Midna, the angels around them, and Belief. It was tough, and persistent to boot, but it had to be on its last legs. And just like Lady Palutena said, the sooner they got through the citadel the better. He tightened his grip on the bow's hilt.

"Let's go, Midna!" he called to her, intent on finishing the faker off. He dashed forward, ducking low under the swipe of its arm and stabbed the tip of his weapon into exposed flesh. He sliced up as Belief turned to face him, then darted off to the side.

”Give me just a seconds” the princess called back as she picked herself up, leaving her mecha-wolfos to deliver the next blow, the beast darting in, wolf pack tactics style, while the foe was focused on Pit. Electricity crackled, and then thunder roared as it, this time, got to pull off its point blank shot, driving a blinding bolt into one of Belief’s knees, causing it to stumble.

Just in time for Midna to find her own footing. As Belief flailed at the mecha-wolfos Midna rushed in, cleaving her volcano fragment out of a portal, igniting the foe, only to use her astral chain to pull herself back to her beast legion that had taken longer to get all 4 legs in order, avoiding a regrown spiny tongue lash in the process.

At that point Pit had blitzed back in close, his blades flashing as he cut up the false angel's blind side. It lurched, swinging its arm down from overhead in an attempt to swat the pest away from it. Slowed and weakened as it was, he didn’t have an issue evading while drawing a sharp cut over its torso. Belief jerked, torn in which direction to face, eventually raising a leg to try a stomp.

”Mistake” Minda declared this as she slammed her shadow hand forwards in a slap, followed a heartbeat later by her scaled up darknut shield bashing out of a portal, both blows unsteadying the one foot standing angel. It flailed, roared, and managed to keep its balance by slamming the tip of its tentacle into the floor - but without that, it left itself wide open in all the places its tongue couldn't reach.

That turned out to be its next mistake, as Pit jumped right back in to finish it off. "Here!" he shouted, twin swords cracking through the last of its armor and shearing the muscle underneath. He then felt the phantom force of Midna’s beast legion leaping straight through him in-order to attack, claws slashing and rending, practically digging its way through the rest of the warped flesh within, exposing its beating, throbbing, core. He went right for it, each gold lined blade plunging into the false angel's heart. "Done and dusted!"

The speedy hulk's body collapsed in on itself, pieces flaking off and crumbling away into ash. Its spirit floated down as Pit snapped the two halves of his bow back together.

Palutena's troops were too disciplined to loudly cheer over their commanders' victory, but Pit and Midna could still feel the palpable relief from the onlookers once Belief was gone. The peace only lasted a moment, as the next Pit had cast his hand towards the further reaches of the citadel and gave them their next orders. "Make sure the rest of the area is secure!"

His group and those they'd picked up during the chaos so far saluted and took flight. Pit spread his own wings, going to join them momentarily. First he glanced at Midna, giving her a grin and a peace sign with his fingers. "Nice work!"

”You weren't half bad yourself” Midna replied, before gesturing at the fallen false angel and asking ”Want to do the deed? I have some things to pick up anyway” which was something of an understatement, with how many weapons the Princess tended to have to re-collect after a fight. Including, of course, the dead end express which had managed to grind through a wall of the room.

Pit blinked and looked at the spirit, catching it in his palm before it touched the ground. Knowing how she liked to hoard things, he was a little surprised at the offer. Still, someone ought to do it, and if she was offering... Pit closed his fist around the mote of light, crushing it in his hand. When it reformed into an item, Pit found himself holding onto a golden handle embedded with clear aquamarines.


"Should have guessed it would turn into something like this," he said, unfurling the coiled whip.

”Could be worse, there's a vault of cursed artifacts in Eden that I ended up with from doing that with all the fodder. That one looks clean though” Midna called back as she picked up her fan, before jogging over to the hole the dead end express had sawed through.

Before promptly ducking into cover as a number of bolts and arrows came out of it.

”Might need your help with this one!” she called back.

As to why, well, a glance through the opening revealed a long corridor sporting many doors on either side, and a grand gateway at the far end that the dead end express was currently trying to saw through. Oh, and, of course, piles of corruption and furniture forming layers of walls and barricades sporting innumerous corrupted and false angel troops.

”You clear the left side’s rooms, I’ll clear the right?” she asked Pit once he’d taken a look.

He'd jogged over to her and stowed the whip, bringing his bow up in preparation for the combat that was to come. "Sounds good. Let's go!"

With the two miniboss of the Ivory citadel well and truly occupied, Edward (equipped with a pair of stylish sunglasses by nastasia upon his conversion that hid his corrupt visage) lead Setonia and a troop of angels on a chain of corrupted core crushes with his pre-knowledge of both their locations and the defenses surrounding them.

However, as they went deeper, the man’s false vision of things, of the corruption’s soldiers as mortals of the commonwealth and the tower not overwhelmed with its black tendrils, caused a few minor confusions. Things not quite where he thought, or what he thought. Still, these were subtle, and with three layers of mental manipulation, Galeem’s, the corruption’s and now the queen’s, all piled on top of eachother, he was not in a mental state to detect that this was occuring before it was too late.

”We’ll be coming up on a chamber soon that holds the second greatest concentration of cores. Yet it also contains a throne that assails the mind of those who witness it, forcing them to attack their allies if it succeeds at overcoming their willpower, and simply stunning those that it does not” he informed the assembled unit within a chamber that had two small entrances and 100% absolutely did not contain third more important one.

”The effect is brief, yet devastating. Which is why we must enter prepared rather than stumbling into it. Feather shields first who can reflect the effect, then only as many swords and bows as the staffs can cleanse as soon as the affliction takes hold of them”

He received nods, and one important question which was “And where is the entrance to this chamber?” to which he replied ”Behind a large gateway, several people wide, engraved with the image of an armored warrior, his sword tip planted to the ground, his eyes weeping”

The angels, more or less to a feather, glanced up a large gateway, several people wide, engraved with the image of an armored angel, his sword tip planted to the ground, and with black tendrils of corruption crawling down from his eyes like tears.

“Like that door?”

”What door?” Edward asked, looking at a blank wall with confusion, before managing to only get an understated ”ah” of comprehension as the gateway the corruption had blinded him to the presence of was flung open and all hell broke loose.

Within sat the described throne, tendrils wrapped around it and reaching to the sky, upon it a tome with feelers and teeth jagging out of its cover, and the sight of this assailed the minds of the troops with visions of madness.

Some went insane the second they saw it, driving blades and arrows into each other or into the backs of those who had merely been stunned by the affliction. Worse, out of the now open gate flooded the forces of the corruption, fallen angels (their lower halves contorted into a writhing sea of tendrils) and their imposterous masters rushed forward to take down their foes before they could recover.

The only ones standing against this were, as Edward had predicted, the feather shields, who merely blinked in the face of the madness before raising their bulwarks to weather the storm. Yet they had their work cut out for them trying to protect their mad or incapacitated comrades both from friend and foe.

Well… A room that caused momentary insanity when entered… Something that not even she was immune to, Sectonia found, though her superior magic resistance caused the stun to only last for a breath.

She’d have to find a way to destroy that thing.

But before that she had to deal with all the corrupted coming out of the room. A simple enough matter, as there was only one door for them to come through, and she had no end of AoE attacks. And at least she could ‘filter’ her attacks to not attack her maddened allies… as long as she stayed back and just peppered the doorway with her rings of light and beams of light.

The corruption, naturally, did not just sit there and take this, and being a large target as she was, the queen was the focus of more or less all of the fire being shot over the corrupted hord’s heads. Trumpets and horns sounded as Affinities fired bolts and beams from musical weapons, bow strings twanged as corrupted feather bows let loose a volley, but far worse than this were the three Enraptured holding the back of the room, each of whom unleashed a devious spell.

The first raised up its staff and flooded the room and corridor with a golden aura, that as long as it continued to project it, drove the regular troops into a berzerk state that both accelerated their movements, and made them far more durable.

The second cast out ensuring tendrils that whipped around, attempting to coil around the queen and ensare her movements.

Worst of all, however, was the third, who instead of projecting or attacking, stole, spinning its staff and draining the queen’s magic, significantly reducing her arcane firepower as long as it was able to continue to do so.

What also didn’t help was the way Edward had turned specifically on her, ignoring the angels slicing at him as he marked her the same way had when they had been fighting on the tower, aiding the aim of the enemy fire power, and then preceding to attempt to shoot her point blank with his maglock pistol.

Sectonia wasn’t surprised there was retaliation, but those three in the back were going to be a problem. Even though it’d cause her Antlers to go crazy for a bit, perhaps they’d just attack what was near them which would be those three casters and as such, Sectonia summoned a gold antler right next to the casters trying to restrain and drain her power to go berserk on them so she could continue clearing out the corruption that lay before her. Her new Death Pulse ability was doing work, with the healing and damage it provided, although it wouldn’t sustain her forever.

Unfortunately the throne’s power was more insidious than she had hoped, and the antlions promptly began attacking each other, ignoring the foes they had been summoned next to. Still, their presence did represent a threat, causing them to soak up fire as the affinities strove to take them down before they could regain their senses.

But while she had to rely on her Antler causing chaos before she could blast those things herself, Edward went crazy as well. Sectonia could only sigh as she had to summon her insight barrier to reduce the magical damage she was taking. She then turned her attention to Edward who was shooting her with his gun. Rolling her eyes she gave an internal groan about this whole ‘galeem enchantment’ business, and it seemed that even overrode her mind control

Well, at least being more of a commander type, it wasn’t too difficult to break that. She wouldn’t want him blocking her next attack to clear out the room anyway, so she simply snapped her fingers and casually threw a friend-heart at the pre-stabbed by his allies commander. With the deed done, she went back dealing with the stuff pummeling her.

The man stumbled as all the layers of control were washed away, memories and context rushing back to him. It could very well have overwhelmed him and left him as vulnerable as the stunned angels, but the screams and cries around him caused him to shunt everything to the side and focus on the battle he’d, functionally, woken up in the middle of.

The feeling of someone trying to stab an arrow into his back certainly helped, even if his armor prevented that from taking him down.

He whirled, bashed the hand of the offending feather with the butt of his gun to make the drop the arrow, before drawing his saber just in time to prevent a feather sword from taking his head off. Then he hefted his pistol at his attacker, only to fire a round over their shoulder, the enchanted slug of a bullet slamming into a corrupt equivalent that was about to stab it in the back.

”They’ll overcome it soon! Hold fast and protect the healers!” he called out, before pushing the blade of the insane feather back, and lunging to the side to shoulder barge another who was about to finish off a stunned feather-staff.

As both Edward and the offending sword recovered from the collision, the feather staff blinked behind his mask, and then shook his head clear of the stun, only to stare back at the carnage that had occurred while he’d been out. All around him, the others did as well, but as many found themselves in the middle of attempting to kill each other, insanity abating to confusion rather than order.

”Staffs, prioritize the front line! Everyone else, fall back 10 paces and form back up!” Edward commanded, rushing past the confused rear rank to join the place where the feather-shields had been desperately trying to hold back the horde even as their allies had been stabbing them in the back. Thanks to Galeem, they now all wanted to repay the favor, which Edwards' commanded tactical retreat, intended merely to clear lingering confusion about friend or foe, helped in preventing.

He thrust himself into a breach in their improvised shield wall, feet planted in the ashes of one of the fallen as he did his best to take their place despite lacking a shield of his own, and instead doing his best to parry or preemptively pistol take down his foes.

As he did, he felt overheal and holy cradle skills washed over him and the shields. The former helped some, healed the battered shields while granting the at full health Edward a protective barrier, but the second was far more important, as it gave them all a boon that would save them from one death blow… several of which were immediately used up as the wave of corrupted foes threatened to wash over them.

Well these hordes would be reduced quite a bit once Sectonia got serious and started to use her large light rings, firing 3 at a time down the hallway. In such a narrow place, these chopped through the corrupt hordes with relative ease and unlike her smaller versions, they didn’t stop until they hit the wall in the back. If it wasn’t for her mask item that tripled her projectile count, it would’ve taken way longer and way more rings to clear out the corruption in front of her. And on top of that, those mages suppressing her power would have to stop what they’re doing to dodge, or get hit with a relatively strong attack. Although the one binding Sectonia in place made an attempt to dodge, the one sapping her magic power did not, and would find these attacks still hurt even with the debuff on her due to the rapid succession of large rings.

And it was a good thing the mage binding her decided to get out of the way, as to finish off a large amount of corrupted soldiers and the one sapping her strength, she unleashed her large laser beam charged quickly due to the damage she was doing at him, overwhelming whatever defenses him and his cohort had and destroying them as well as any corruption in the way.

Though weakened (and lacking target prioritization in Edward’s tactical assessment), the sheer volume of fire and aoe was more than enough to take the pressure off the front lines, great blades slicing through weaker corrupted and softening up others enough that defenses pokes from behind their shields were plenty to take down others. The only real points of contention were the melee affinities, as each of these lesser false angels would still be a deadly foe to a mundane mortal, which made them still quite the threat to the wounded angels.

Not to mention to Edward, who had a gun rather than the shields the feathers were using to hold back the bone shattering blows of the affinities. Yet still had to do his best to hold the line, using his blade to parry earth shattering strikes he would be entirely unable to block.

His pistol's oversized slugs still punched holes though their armor at least.

It was a relief then, when a call of “Swords re-engage!” from the highest ranking of the feathers who’d survived throne induced insanity, heralding their return to the fray post regrouping behind the shield wall.

”Shields, back, swords, hold the front!” Edward commanded, keeping the relife he was feeling from his voice, as he too fell back. The swords took a more offensive approach to keeping the foes at bay, forming a loose formation and darting to and fro to take out foes quickly rather than trying to hold them back.

Still, the increased durability being induced by the final still channeling Enraptured put something of a dent in that strategy. However, now that he had space and coordinated troops, Edward could deal with that, commanding ”Bows, ready volley. On my mark” and then casting Designate Target on the foe he wished them to remove.

”Fire”

A heartbeat later a shower of shots flew through the fray, Swords clearing a path thanks to the forewarning, and pincushioned the marked and vulnerable Enraptured.

The golden light it produced died along with it, bringing an end to the berzerk state it was inducing in its allies. The resulting frontline quickly crumpled, but the ranged core were still a threat, the feathers having not touched them, and Sectonia’s unwieldy shots less able to hit the distant targets.

Well, with the melee group done, Sectonia could handle the ranged corps with a teleport. She had been kept up with their group heals and her own heals and resilience, and now she could show her dominance even though she wasn’t feeling good. Summoning her chaos shield, she used this to teleport to the ranged corps with her swords out and struck them, before letting out a healing pulse and using her lightning to strike the ranged corps below. Even with them focusing her, it would take quite a bit to break her chaos shield, even though she was way out of position. That being said though, if they managed that, she’d retreat back to heal herself back up.

Edward watched on as someone else was the receiving end of Sectonia’s brazen charge without envy. Well. In a way it was still him, because the queen immediately had sycophants drop down from the ceiling to try and punish her for her brazen charge just as he’d set it up. It didn’t work, naturally, both because Sectonia was Sectonia, but also because it was hardly an ambush when they’d already run into this trick of his before, and she’d been forward of it even before then.

Unlike before however, he now casually mused about what you actually could do against someone with such abilities (decoy ranged troops on explosives, or unicorn mounted skirmishes who could teleport away perhaps) in a way that the now cleared mind control had prevented him from doing before (because how could someone loyalty to the queen even consider strategies that might counter her). Incidentally he did this theorizing while pumping maglock rifle slug after magelock rifle slug into the remaining hostiles, helping with the cleanup from a safe distance.

The last of the corrupted forces fell, leaving only the throne, and the corrupt cores nestled around it that they had come to destroy. Upon the throne sat the tome of corruption Edwad had been reading when the fight began. As Sectonia approached to complete their objective, it flipped open on its own accord, pages flipping till it revealed a diagram of a beautiful woman’s torso sat atop a lower body made up of insectile limbs and grasping tendrils labeled in arcane scrawl as an Umbral Mistress.

The best, it seemed, it could find within itself to tempt the queen.

Prior to what many people thought, Sectonia often found the ‘insects’ that everyone thinks she’d like often pretty ugly. They tended on the realm of creepy instead of beautiful and usually they never had vibrant colors or smooth shapes but looked more like monsters. Perhaps a few other seekers would like them, but not Sectonia.

And Sectonia couldn’t let ugly things that made themselves to be her enemy stand. So instead of tempting Sectonia, the book of corruption only managed to enrage her. How dare this thing try and corrupt beauty! Well, she wasn’t going to have that, and what was the best way to deal with a book like this than with fire?

Giving a bit of an inhale, Sectonia spit a small ball of fire at the book. This was much weaker than many other seekers with the same ability, but it was more to set fire to something than an actual attack and was used to show her disdain. Something that started as her fire set the book on fire and caused the creature projected by it to morph and scream. Something Sectonia didn’t appreciate, and decided to just blast it with a beam of holy light to silence it.

”Ah, good” Edward said as he approached, pistol in hand, and explaining that ”I had intended to warn about that before we were interrupted by the illusory ploy, but it seems I didn’t need to worry about your judgment”

He then glanced back at the troops and ordered ”Form a perimeter while we break the cores” before turning back to the queen and requesting ”During which I would appreciate an explanation of what exactly is going on here”

”Yes, I suppose this wouldn’t be a bad time. I need a bit of rest as it is.” Sectonia said, finding a safe spot to rest, resiphon her mana from the ground, and heal herself up. She explained what had been going on to Edward while he point blank executed the cores.

She’d want this commander for herself after all.

---

Those bugs had proven cleverer than the Witch had given them credit for. She’d thought they’d be distressed—what with their sacred big top burning down and their patrons placed in harm’s way—but no such scruples weighed down the good critters of the Grimm Troupe. A ruined tent could simply be remade, and what did a few dead civilians matter to a circus that could pull up roots and be gone from the city within a day?

All that truly mattered were the performers, and the source of their dark power. The Troupe clearly recognized this fact, and the Witch almost admired the cold-hearted purpose with which they acted upon it. If only it hadn’t put her in such a vexing situation, torn between a goal that was slipping out of reach and the fresh temptations of a disaster in the making.

Even without her nose for trouble, she could hardly have missed the three enormous beasts clambering over the plateau’s edge with mayhem on their minds. All those pretty, colorful buildings, about to be knocked over like toys by an oversized monkey—the Witch had to cover her mouth at the thought, unable to suppress her laughter. Oh, all the precious things she’d be able to loot from the wake of their rampages, all the fantastic materials she might scavenge from their corpses! It very nearly made her forget that pretty red lantern entirely, and throw herself straight into the oncoming chaos.

…Unfortunately for everyone, she was a little too greedy for that. Whyever, she asked herself, should a spot of inconvenient timing keep her from having both of the things she wanted? The bulk of the Grimm Troupe seemed to have been distracted by the monsters, and the presence of a few guards around her goal only made it all the more tempting to the Witch. If she moved quickly, before the rest of the bugs took notice, she could come out of this with both the lantern in hand and some more loyal servants to throw into the wider battle.

Under cover of smoke, she crept once again into the thick of the wagons. It would be difficult to pass entirely unseen, but not many of the remaining Troupe members would be able to tell her apart from any other fleeing audience member, and their indifference here became a double-edged sword. None of them sought to assist or entertain her now, for why would they care? The show was over, and the hive would likely soon be leaving down.

So it was that she limped out of the murk into the view of the lantern’s three guardians, her cheeks stained by soot and her breath as ragged as her garb. “H… Help…” She reached one arm pathetically out towards them, as though to beseech their aid.

The ruse was broken in a moment, as her gesture revealed the wand in her grip just in time for her to finish casting her spell. A fireball slammed straight into the nearest of the cloaked guardians, and the Witch’s pleading expression instantly dissolved into the wicked smile of a well-practiced murderess.

It fell again a moment later, when she saw that her target had not fallen howling in agony. In fact, it was still on its feet, and prowling towards her unhindered by the fire raging across its clothes. The Witch’s bright blue eyes went wide, and she had just enough time to spit out a decidedly non-magical curse word before the creature raised its scarlet torch and sent a flame of its own hurtling back her way.

The sorceress threw herself to one side, scrambling like a rat across the paving stones. It should have been enough to avoid the burning projectile, had the damned thing not curved about in midair and smashed itself against her regardless. The impact sent a shock reverberating through her energy shield, the edge of her barrier briefly outlined where it had stopped the attack mere inches from her fragile form.

The guardian raised its torch for another attack, but with its focus on the Witch it failed to see the shadow rushing at it through the smoke. The zombie burst forth with rotten arms outstretched and barreled straight into its enemy, its sheer momentum taking them both to the ground in a tangle of flailing limbs. Within moments, the two were tearing at one another in a mad frenzy of aggression, flecks of blood and chunks of flaming cloth scattered this way and that around their battle.

The Witch’s wand flicked this way and that, a translucent bolt of pure kinetic energy let loose with every motion. Each strike met its mark and briefly staggered its target, but with two shadowy opponents bearing down on her at once she couldn’t keep either fully at bay. A fresh fireball crackled her way, and exploded against the side of a wagon as the girl ducked behind it to catch her breath.

What foul luck, that I’d end up against creatures too rude to scream as they burn. Trying to bring them down with fire would just be a waste of mana, and her standard attacks weren’t powerful enough to bring them down. To make matters worse, she had at best a minute before that stick-thin ringleader showed up with reinforcements to put an end to her for good. The Witch’s smile grew wider, not out of happiness but out of pure spite and desperation. If she couldn’t have her way here, then she’d just have to set it all alight, and make do with the satisfaction of ruining those who’d stood against her.

As the wagon shook with a fresh impact, she raced out into the open with her wand already alight. Flames swirled, converged, and flew through the air in the blink of an eye—but not towards either of the two guardian shadows. Instead the killing light bore down on the wrought-iron wagon and its veil of black cloth, aimed dead-center for where she knew the lantern rested.

It did not find its mark. Acting upon a duty that took precedence over their own lives, both of the cloaked defenders threw themselves into the spell’s path and took its full impact upon their own forms. Once again, their bodies withstood the fire’s loving caress, but this time the Witch was ready. Before either enemy could recover, she struck each one with a fresh kinetic attack, pressing her narrow-won advantage without a moment’s pause.

At that moment, the wheels on the iron wagon began to turn. Even the Grimmsteed understood the importance of protecting the Nightmare Lantern, and after such a close call it wasn’t going to stick around to see how the fight turned out. With all its scuttling strength, it dragged its precious cargo away from the fiery clash and into the city streets, where it might find refuge from all the madness and chaos unfolding at every turn.

The Witch was in no position to follow. Her opponents were on their feet again, and now oversized worms had spilled out from their guts, writhing and twisting in the air. The sorceress warily backed away, wand at the ready—but her grin seemed calmer now, more self-assured. Even if her prize had escaped her this time, she no longer had immediate cause to fear for her life.

Her zombie shambled up to her side, strands of torn-up wormflesh dangling from its ravaged form. A half-second’s casting later, and another rose to join it, torn from the body of the first guardian like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. The Witch stood back, nodding in approval, and let them advance in tandem to finish the bloody work she had begun.

Four would do nicely, to start with.

The fresh order of Fried Onion Cattlefish arrived at appreciable speed, and as the others continued to talk, Nadia got to work. With its chewy, slightly elastic flesh housed within a shell of crunchy fried batter, and surrounded by rings of sweet, caramelized fried onion, the cephalopod made for a savory feast that left Nadia thirsty for another bear. The catgirl cheerfully munched her way through the remainder of her meal, and in so doing she also ruminated on what her allies had to say. Having learned all they could during their stay in Mafia Town and shared what they found out, the team needed to figure out what came next. Of course, even if they put together some ideas and plans, Nadia’s next objective wasn’t really hers to decide. She wasn’t the Seeker’s leader, nor the brains of the operation, so the final call would be up to somebody like Sandalphon (or God forbid, Bowser) to make.

Unsurprisingly, Juri favored violence, after the reports about V and 𝙸, she seemed especially eager to off some consuls. Nadia couldn’t help but snort at some of her suggestions, and the vastly inflated ego it took to throw them out so casually. Thinking too highly of herself was nothing new for Juri, but she’d really outed herself by recommending a Consul hunt. It had taken the entire Under team, roughly half the entire roster of Seekers, to fight and take down P, himself a consul of uncommon complacence and immaturity by all accounts. From what little she’d heard of the Midgar team’s raid on the Shinra Building, their own fight against Y had been down to the wire. As much as Nadia wanted to depose more of the World of Light’s secret elite, their motley crew would need some backup first, especially going in blind.

Even if two beers had been enough to make someone like Nadia tipsy, that grim reminder from Junior would have sobered her up. As if the existence of twenty-six super-powerful despots wasn’t enough of a problem to begin with, the Koopa Kids had delivered a double-whammy to the Seekers that left them reeling: first, that their foes could simply replace any of the fallen. And second, the new Consul P was none other than Princess Peach, less than a day after Sandalphon reported her as KIA. It was a lot to handle, and really, Nadia hadn’t been handling it–just trying to forget about it. Unfortunately, with the speed that Nadia’s blood replenished, it would take a LOT more than two beers to make that revelation palatable. She could only sigh and voice her agreement with Rika. “Yeah, that consul deserves some major payback. An 𝙸 for an 𝙸.”

At that point, Blazermate crashed the party, quickly cramming herself along the bar of Bancho Sushi alongside all the others. Normally a machine would have no need to visit a restaurant, but this medabot was the sociable type. Unfortunately, if she wanted to find them well she’d come at a bad time. “Could be better,” Nadia admitted. It sounded like Blazermate caught of a glimpse of whatever Geralt saw, so the catgirl ignored the new report. “But hey, the chow’s purr-etty great,” she continued. “Bancho’s been teachin’ me a little about Asian food. Ever hear of a century egg? They’re eggs that got made a long tamago.” Even if that was a pun nobody but her could possibly get, the terrible joke left her giggling.

At that point, a marked increase in the ambient hubbub drew her attention toward the seaward end of the restaurant, prompting her ears to swivel and then her head to turn. Some of the other customers were congregating along the railing. Nadia just watched for another few seconds, chewing through the last of her rubbery fried cuttlefish. Her first guess was that someone spotted a breaching whale or dolphin pod, since the Blue Hole was famous for its variety of sea creature sightings. It did occur to her, after her run-in with that mutant hammerhead, that the critter could just as easily be a dangerous aberration. Either way, her curiosity wouldn’t let her sit still for long. With a look at her companions she pushed off her seat and sauntered over to the other side of Bancho Sushi to look out across the water. Her slitted electric-blue eyes were sharp, but by now it was dark out, and she couldn’t see anything amiss amongst the waves.

As she searched, she felt something nudge her elbow. When she looked down, the feral was delighted to see Chucho, her beloved polterpup. Not taking to the water like his owner, Chucho tended to wander the town while Nadia plumbed the depths of the Blue Hole, but her ghostly companion always turned up sooner or later. “Hey buddy, you’re late today!” she laughed, grabbing him in her arms to hug. He gave her a big ghostly lick, then glanced out to sea, ears perked up. Nadia followed his gaze, and a moment later she saw it: a massive black block on the water. A cargo ship.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Wait a second…” She suddenly remembered seeing -and absentmindedly forgetting about- that ship right after hunting that tuna. Silhouetted against the setting sun, it had just faded into the background. Now, though, it crept through the night, its presence unannounced and inexplicable. Closer and closer to Mafia Town. And as it grew closer, Nadia’s eyes could focus and better make out its details, like the absurdly big circus cannon sitting on its upper deck, and the enormous device embedded in its tower just below the bridge, an ornate gauge just over halfway full of brilliant purple fire.

“A Flame Clock!” Nadia blurted out, startled by the sight. While she’d never seen Mafia Town’s, she knew the island city must have one, like every ‘colony’ scattered throughout the World of Light. When the flames burned out, so too would the lives of those it sustained. That one immutable fact doomed the people of this world to unending war, fighting to fuel the clocks with the lives of others just to live another day. And with the added context of what had been happening to Limsa Lominscuttle Town…!

At that moment, a terrifically loud ringing noise originated from the cargo ship, the harsh audio feedback of a microphone too close to its speaker. Then a voice, electronically amplified to many times its original volume, resounded across the water like that of a sports announcer across a jam-packed stadium.

“GOOOOOD evening, ladies and gentlemen of Mafia Town! I’m your host, Skip Leggerday, and I’m here with a special, one-night-only, all-inclusive event that you literally can’t miss! So buckle your seatbelts and strap yourselves in, ‘cause it’s time for a Battle. Royal. RUMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

As the unknown man spoke, music swelled from the cargo ship’s loudspeakers, but when he finished the tunes were drowned out by the tremendous blast of the ship’s cannon. From its yawning dark maw flew no less than one hundred flaming projectiles like comets through the night. They arced through the air, blazing trails in their wake, and sailed down toward Mafia Town as its stunned populace looked on. But while as shocked as anyone else, Nadia didn’t freeze. She turned tail and took off on all fours, sprinting back toward her allies through the restaurant with Chucho hovering at her heels. “Incomiiiiiing!”

The bombardment began to fall over Mafia Town’s southern side, breaking the boards, cracking the pavement, and cratering the sand where each payload fell. One landed on top of Bancho Sushi, but instead of breaking through it rolled right off and onto the dock, revealing himself to be a portly man with a high-visibility vest, a black afro, and cartoonish proportions. These weren’t cannonballs–they were people! These people were of all shapes and sizes, and many wore bizarre and/or mismatched outfits, but they had one thing in common: the moment they picked themselves up from where they landed, none the worse for wear, they began to attack.

For a moment Nadia watched, astonished, as the maniacs gleefully went after civilians and Mafia goons alike. They lashed out with big, telegraphed slaps, punches, and kicks, then unleashed all kinds of special moves from grabs and mists to tackles and lariats. This, she realized, was the fate that had befallen Limsa, and now its perpetrators had come to Mafia Town. She couldn’t afford to wonder why, though. The people needed her help, and Nadia Fortune wasn’t one to disappoint.

“Let’s go, Chucho!” Nadia leaped out of the restaurant and onto the wharf, then made a beeline for the unknown assailant as he hurled a hapless mafioso into the water with a whirlwind swing. She leaped into the air and fell on him with a divekick that led into a handful of claw slashes and culminated in an Unchain series, starting with a Tornado high thrust kick. From there she launched forward with a Sobat high kick as the Unchain Circle, then floored her foe with a wound-up straight punch as the Unchain Finisher. When she darted in to apply pressure, however, the wrestler popped up with a sucker punch to the stomach that shrugged off her attack, staggering her long enough that he could reach out and snatch her in another whirlwind swing. “Whoa-oa-oa-oa-!”

With an angry bark, Chucho intervened. He saved Nadia’s bacon with Thus Spoke Pickles, the starlight blast of mental energy interrupting the wrestler’s swing. Nadia’ momentum still sent her tumbling off the dock, but thanks to her rigging she salvaged her fall with a tech off the water’s surface. She shakily rose to her feet, then skated back toward the dock, peppering her target with blood rounds from her cannon batteries. When she got close enough, the feral threw herself into the wrestler’s guard with a double slash, her chip damage amplified by 30% thanks to Thus Spoke Pickles. In a flash she drew her Athame daggers, reducing his defense with each rapid slash to his guard, until she went for a throw. Extruding her own muscle fiber, she ensnared the wrestler in a bar of bloody yarn, then playfully hurled him into the water. To her surprise, however, her enemy sank straight to the bottom without so much as a stream of air bubbles.

Though confused for a moment, Nadia couldn’t sit still in this target-rich environment. “One down…now for the ‘wrest’ of them,” she muttered, turning her attention toward Mafia Town.

Immediately a big man in a black showy outfit consisting of a studded longcoat and pants dropped down from the roof of Seaside Spaghetti. “Come on, let’s do this!” Bass Armstrong challenged her, arms outstretched. Nadia stowed her knives and sharpened her claws, ready to take him on.

Stirred into action by the sudden attack, the inhabitants of Mafia Town rallied to fight back against the onslaught. Surly sailors, sea creatures, and Mafia leg-breakers alike all rolled out to repel the invaders. Even tommy gun-toting elites like Chrom and Rosanna joined the fray. But while the defenders were occupied, Mabuchi led his well-armed band toward the Mafia headquarters. The arrival of the infamous raiders, exactly as planned, had created a perfect storm. In the middle of all the chaos, the merciless edge of his Guan Dao would part the Mafia of Cooks from its head, allowing him to seize power at last. When his team reached the plate in the sky, they found only a token force guarding the front doors. With an ugly smile, Mabuchi went to work.



Following the destruction of the Ivory Citadel’s towers, Palutena’s forces seized the advantage to push through into the heart of the corrupted fortress. The fighting was fierce, at times a brutal slog slowed to a crawl by wave after wave of dangerous fodder, or a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse as angels hunted down sycophant assassins and ayfid snipers that threatened to pick them off one by one. False angels appeared with a variety of tricks up their loathsome sleeves, demanding the focus of Featherbows to ensure that their most dangerous attacks missed the mark. With every corruption node eliminated, however, the army of light gained ground. By now, every soldier knew how the Corruption worked; its growths could bear their vile fruit no matter how many were cut down, but if the angels pulled out its roots, its branches would wither. Enterprising Featherswords could use Accelerate to dash past enemy gangs, or in and out of windows, in order to go straight for the plague’s black hearts and deprive their foes of their power. Slowly but surely, the army of light was driving back the darkness.

While the soldiers scoured the citadel, the Seekers racked up a series of important victories. As the strongest amongst the Laguna monsters stationed here, both Belief and Beloved presented major challenges, but when Midna, Pit, Edelgard, and Roxas managed to take them down, their underlings faltered soon after. Sectonia’s victory over Edward and the eldritch throne of whispers deprived the Corruption of the last of the strategic power it had managed to accrue, leaving its pawns little more than a directionless mob. Soon, the various squadrons of Palutena’s forces reunited in the great hall, the final holdout of the Corruption in the Ivory Citadel. Here, the many branches of the fortress’s infestation coalesced, becoming aged masses of putrefaction that joined together at a single source: the distended head of a long-dead corpse, Legion, seated atop the throne.

Having finally reached this place after what felt like years of interminable stalemate against their hated foe, the angels had picked up momentum. With Fodoquia at the forefront they stormed the hall, propelled by the beat of their cloud-white wings over the roiling gloom that carpeted the marbled floor, and began to wipe out the last of the benighted horde. As its annihilation drew near, however, the Corruption played its final card. From the gnarled disk, a foul yellow light blazed, a sickly, odious, and unwholesome foil to the nourishing, sacred light of the erdtrees. Just being within its line of sight was enough to cause dizziness and nausea, while looking at it directly filled the eyes and brain with toxic, searing brilliance. The angels returned fire as best they could, but the eye beat down on them like the desert sun, hampering their efforts so much that they scrambled for shelter against the noisome glare. As the tables turned, the knotted disk somehow detached from the corpse’s neck and began to float across the room, bathing all in its vomitous glow and ear-piercing noise.

Suddenly, Palutena’s voice rang out over the awful din. ”Angels in the great hall, clear the center!”

The next moment a thunderous impact shook the building, and the roof of the great hall began to buckle. With a tremendous racket, great slabs of masonry fell, smashing against the disk and the corrupted monsters on the ground. Legion’s light dimmed, and the gentle night poured in from above, but in that darkness the angels spotted radiant halos and splendid golden armor.

“Open fire!” Nathaniel bellowed.

To either side of him, Storm Wardens unleashed their cannons, raining down destruction on the dregs of Corruption. In the middle of their barrage, both Nathaniel and Uriel dove down, blades at the ready. “May the Father guide our hands!” they called, eyes screwed shut. With a roar Nathaniel struck first, using the flat of his blade to send the twisted disk flying back toward the corrupted throne. Then Uriel crashed into Legion, unleashing lightspeed slashes with her Dawnbreaker until the light of day cut through the blighted luster in a climactic explosion, and after that, all was silent.

A moment later, cheers broke through the stunned quiet, and together the heavenly host ascended through the hole in the roof to regroup atop the reclaimed Ivory Citadel. As Uriel and Nathaniel composed herself, panting from their efforts, Celia swooped down atop Ortho. “Good work, everyone!” she congratulated them. “But I’m afraid our battle is far from over. Look!”

Next in the corrupted archipelago, the sky island that was once Citronpool Harbor had more than stirred–it had awakened. From its gloom-slathered ports embarked angelic vessels of such golden grandiosity that they could only be Laguna monstrosities themselves. Half a dozen Kinships now sailed through the sky like unholy funeral barges, manned by corrupted archers, while Citronpool’s central shipyard launched a much larger weapon of war: the stunning rocket-shaped Worship. Already the Kinships were spitting out missiles with cherubic faces, forcing an engagement with Nathaniel and Uriel’s airborne units while their leaders were away.

With that realization, morale among the soldiers dropped. Fighting through the claustrophobic, enemy-rich environment of the citadel had exhausted the angels, claiming many lives and leaving many more wounded. At this point the army of light would normally fall back to heal up and decontaminate, lest traces of corruption take route inside them, but there was no backing out now. To make matters worse, night had well and truly fallen. The Feathers’ skills were strong normally, but the extra effects gained during the daytime gave them a serious upper hand. Now the darkly-colored enemies had the advantage.

Once again, Palutena’s voice rang out. ”Do not fear, angels of skyworld! Lift your heads and rejoice, for though I am not your Father, I remain your goddess of light!”

Straightening up from her scrying pool in her temple, Palutena reached over and lifted a splendid flower from its cushion, holding it in her hand. The flower, with layered shades of yellow, orange, red, blue, and purple like the sunset sky, began to glow, and when she held it up, the Dream Blossom shot into the sky. It burst in a wave of pure radiance, pushing back the dark as daylight filled the vaults of heaven over Skyworld once more. Seeing this miraculous feat, the angels cheered, their spirits and abilities renewed. All of a sudden the Laguna ships didn’t seem all that fearsome, especially now that the ballistae operators could see again. The verminous bog called Citronpool Harbor, with no proper defenses to speak of, looked like easy pickings, so really those ships were all that stood between the army of light and the final corrupted sky island. Celia was right: this battle wasn’t over just yet.

Hearing the exultations of her forces filled Palutena with joy. ”All troops…move out!”



When the trio hit the ground, they split up, with Roland disappearing right away to challenge George while Primrose stood her ground for a moment, preparing a magical dance. Even if they weren’t at his heels, though, Goldlewis stayed the course toward Ralph, and not just because he wanted to make sure Primrose got her chance to use her support skills. The giant wolf had snatched a panicked Meridi-at-han citizen with a hungry leer, licking his chops. Like a kid with a piece of popcorn Ralph then tossed the poor old man high into the air, turning his head upward as he opened his mouthful of fangs wide.

Goldlewis scowled, dropping his coffin. He knew he had just one shot at this, but it wasn’t his military training that would save the day right now. To pull this off, he’d need to rely on even older experience. “Thunderbird!” His coffin cracked open, and the UMA inside let fly a spiked bomb. Rather than let it hover toward the monster on its own, though, Goldlewis opted for the faster option: seizing it in his hand and hurling it like a football. The explosive hurtled through the air, propelled by almost inhuman strength, and detonated against Ralph’s ear. The giant yelped, flinching, and the old man meant for his gullet instead bounced off his furry shoulder. Quickly back to his fight against Mudrock in Quarantine Valley, Goldlewis placed his boot against his coffin and kicked it to send it sliding along the ground toward. From within the casket the UMA extended three arms to catch the citizen before he could slam into the ground.

Seeing the man safe, Goldlewis wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but he could do no such thing. Ralph recovered from the grenade quickly, and after turning to fix a furious glare on his disarmed attacker, the wolf charged. His massive stride closed the distance in an instant, and his enormous hand descended with ferocious speed. Goldlewis barely threw himself out of the way in time, but Ralph easily raked his claws across the ground to catch the veteran in the back and knock him down. Another second and the monster brought a footpaw down on him, gleefully crushing him against the earth. “Guh! Need a…hand!”

Luckily, Primrose had worked her magic by then, bolstering her comrade’s defense with a Mole Dance spread far and wide by Sealticge's Seduction. The big man trapped beneath Ralph’s heel turned out to be an unexpectedly tough nut to crack, and Kayna didn’t give him the time to break through. She and Avmar leaped to the veteran’s aid, getting his attention with the Velocidrome’s cruel talons. As Goldlewis picked himself up, Primrose herself followed up with her uncanny black flames. Suddenly Ralph found himself beset by a whole crowd of enemies, a mixture of Seekers, Sun Guards, and adventurers armed with might or magic. With that old man safe, Goldlewis the chance to grab his coffin, yanking it into his grasp by the chain just in time to block a wide sweep from the giant. When Ralph noticed just who it was that his claws bounced off of, he reached back down for another grab, but the veteran batted his mitt away. At that point the Grimmkin joined in from above, pelting Ralph with scarlet fireballs that left burning patches in his fur, others who wielded flames joined in. When Primrose pitched her next pyromancy at him, the beast went up in flames.

Ignited and burning, the giant went berserk. He flailed around in a wild tantrum, stomping his footpaws and slicing at anyone and everyone he could. His constant and unpredictable movement made it difficult for his attackers to keep themselves in one piece, let alone get a piece of him, but his reckless abandon meant that he’d be wide open if someone got past his offense. The Secretary of Absolute Defense rose to the occasion, fearlessly chasing Ralph down. He dashed, blocked using Faultless Defense, then dashed again until his patience reward him with the opportunity to bring his coffin crashing down on Ralph’s foot in a stupendous Behemoth Typhoon.

He heard something break, and the burning wolf howled, agonized. With a snarl Ralph turned and limped to the nearest buildings, then began to climb in an attempt to get away. Goldlewis snorted and cracked open his coffin again. Normally anything under Galeem’s influence couldn’t flee from a battle -maybe he intended to return to the fight after quenching the flames in a nearby river?- but it didn’t matter, because this beast wasn’t getting away. Helpful as ever, the UMA provided him with his newest weapon: the giant harpoon gun he’d named Yowie, gained from the spirit of Rosa. Goldlewis planted his feet, took aim at Ralph’s back, and fired. A howl shook Meridi-at-han as the giant harpoon lodged between the monster’s ribs, but he only paused for a moment. Immediately he began to drag Goldlewis forward, though the big man fought for every inch. It was up to the others to bring him down.

At the same time, while Kayna and Avmar showed up to assist Zenkichi against Lizzie, another phantom appeared in the vicinity of Roland and Oscar. In the torchlit dark of night, only the flash of scarlet eyes betrayed the presence of ink-black claws that slid through the furry flesh of the giant gorilla like butter, but each time the specter struck he vanished just as quickly. By the time Roland’s unsportsmanlike strike laid George low, his hair was wet with blood, and at that opportune moment Grimm made his entrance. The bug blinked in not far from Oscar, his arrival announced by a burst of crimson embers, and he threw open his cloak to launch a salvo of screeching firebats at George’s face. Spurred to anger by the searing pain, George balled his huge fists and pounded the earth, throwing many of the makeshift militia to the ground. He then sprang to his feet and plucked a certain plain-faced parasite from his hide, then went to pop Roland in his mouth and regain his health from his crushed bones.

Before he could be devoured, both Oscar and Grimm interceded. Having few compunctions himself, the old spearman unleashed a High-speed Stabbing directly into George’s already-damaged groin, inflicting a grievous enough wound that the ape forgot all about Roland. Then, as the Fixer fell, the Troupe Master darted toward George’s ankle. With most of the militia members confined to melee range, they’d been softening up his lower legs as best they could, and now Grimm aimed his razor-sharp claws at the giant’s Achilles tendon. Bellowing, George fell to one knee, and after a quick pivot Grimm jumped straight for his enemy’s scorched face. As Grimm hung in the air, time seemed to slow down, allowing him to consider his target. His jump arc put George’s throat out of his reach, and he couldn’t be sure that his claws were long enough to pierce it anyway, so he changed targets. His fingers sliced across the ape’s right eye, forcing it shut, but when he turned his head he got a bead on Grimm before he could disengage. A massive hand closed around the Troupe Master, and without ceremony George threw the bug in his mouth and bit down.

The next second Grimm teleported back out into the night air, appearing a few dozen feet away. Unfortunately he could not launch any firebats while falling, and when he landed he hit the ground in an unusually graceless tumble. The Troupe Master hissed as he regarded his lower right leg, crushed between two of George’s teeth. To make matters worse, something felt off, but nothing to do with this fight. Grimm found his attention drawn back toward his troupe’s camp and burned-out tent. There were no giants over there, but he could still see scarlet flames, and hear the sounds of combat. “Kindred, heed me.” A Grimmkin Nightmare descended to support him as the couple dozen scarlet flames dancing above the city turned and streaked through the darkness. With his assistant Grimm began to move, leaving the others to finish the fight against a wounded George as he ripped a palm tree from the ground to use as a weapon.

A few moments later, the shadows lengthened impromptu battlegrounds between the two remaining Shadows and the Witch’s undead cohort. From the gloom floated the ghostly Grimmkin, their scarlet braziers flaring to life to flicker and bob like so many fireflies. After gaining the upper hand in her surprise attack, the schemer, hungry for some semblance of satisfaction as she sought to defile and enslave those who resisted her, had allowed her greed to get the better of her. Now the unnatural insects gathered like the audience of a performance themselves, whispering and tittering in disembodied, inhuman voices. They held their torches like staves, more than ready to pay the Witch back for her arson. With the threat of a fiery demise from the Grimmkin more than implicit, the two remaining Shadows turned mace, sword, worm, and flame on their former brother, drawing it away as they methodically dissected the new zombie. Finally, a scathing whisper cut through the crowd, insinuating words like an assassin might his blade.

"A spark of red lights darkest dream,
Scarlet nightmares bright and wild,
Visions dance and flames do speak…”

Grimm stepped forward, unsteady on his wounded leg, and extended his clawed hand in invitation. If this human yearned for knowledge, and believed herself worthy, all that remained was to take it. To join the Troupe Master in a new kind of dance, one with just two steps.

“Burn the father, feed the child."

Grimm bowed his head to her, and the show was on.

Edward found himself standing alone at a window of the tower attempting to collect his thoughts when the ship came. The battle to seize his old command room had been hard, leaving many injured or dead in the initial chaos, and resulting in a force that could no longer be used for anything but protecting its own wounded.

After clearing the chamber they’d pulled back to a previously cleared chamber, not wanting to be within the presence even of the shattered remains of the throne of whispers, and once they had done so the commander had more or less left them to it. Even if they did not say it, his failing left him unfit for command in their eyes.

Hence his isolation.

In some ways, he did welcome the resulting distance, loath as he would be to admit that. He needed time to think on what he had learned from Sectonia, who had given him a rather casual rundown of the situation before she had pushed forwards while he had insisted on securing the troops somewhere safe to set up camp. This explanation had included such gems of wisdom as ‘if someone comes calling themselves "Consul <letter after name>” they're your enemy’ with little other context, but it had at least hit the key points of why things were the way they were.

Assuming what the queen had told him was true, and given both his final memories and the inability of a still ‘Galeeming’ soldier he had questioned to grasp the information (something that had further convinced the troops of his inability to lead unfortunately), then the ramifications of it where even grander than the one that had shook his home-world.

Said prior revelation had been that there many, many more worlds like it, floating within a cosmic void known as the astral sea. This latest meanwhile contextualized that entire sea as but one of endless worlds that were in no way like one another, and like the revelation of the sea, that knowledge had come off the back of the victory of a self proclaimed god over his reality.

Over all reality.

One which had once tossed him far from home and afflicted his mind with false delusions to serve its ends (again!) and this time, he had landed without nary a familiar face in sight. Or, rather, supposedly, it had created the he that was him as merely the latest copy of the he that had been, if he’d understood that half explained revelation correctly.

”Or maybe my mind still is lost to the corruption and this is all some mad illusion” he mused quietly, sighing that ”It would make things much simpler”

And yet what could he do but accept what he’d been told?

Verify it, of course.

He would need to question other members of these ‘Seekers’ to see if their stories lined up and, naturally, to seek out actual evidence that what had been explained was the case rather than simply taking them by their world alone. Not to mention getting the actual details in full rather than slapdashidly delivered in between the thunderous bark of him executing the corrupted core.

Still, to do that, he’d have to go along with them, and that meant doing what he could to make sure they got through this battle. Unfortunately, said battle looked to be taking to the skies if the barges sighted approaching where any indication, and unfortunately the only way he would be joining them in the air would be by being carried by angels, a transport method which made him an active detriment to air combat.

Unknowingly, he did actually have a solution to this. Unfortunately a certain queen had only requested he gather spirits rather than taking the time to explain how to use them in the name of expedience (and in her defense they were in a war-zone), correctly assessing that knowledge rather than power was what would get him onboard. As a result the cost of his failings in the battle were currently burning a hole in a belt pouch alongside some of their fallen foes, rather than being used to let him take flight.

Still, he had his means, and so as Palutena unleashed her high tier magic (he was no believer in miracles these days) he prepared to add his own, lesser, magical might/light to the battle.

Reaching down to his waist the last dreadnought clicked a latch on a chain binding a book that was eternally smoldering, releasing it from its binding. Rather than fall, the Tome of Pyromancy floated up as it flicked itself open, revealing on its heated pages detailing spells of fire and flame.

He guided it before him, flicking past instructions on how to train pyromancers or construct ritual pyres, and instead came to the spell he had been using to empower the tower’s defenders, which he now turned to the angel’s aid to defend what they had now seized from it.

As the book floated before him he raised a hand and pressed the palm to the relevant page, mimicking the imprint on the cover, and wincing ever so slightly as it seared his flesh. Heat ran through veins, filling him and causing his eyes to glow like embers as power radiated from him, attempting to overwhelm him.

But they’d done this dance several times before.

”I am no deluded acolyte of you Yaka. Fire is not sacred, it is simply energy. A tool to enact either creation or destruction” spoke with ritualistic cadence, denouncing the author of the tome, a self proclaimed god of fire, even as he made use of their work. He continued the ritual, casting down Yaka’s ideology and methodology and replacing it with his own as he did so ”and today, destruction is what we will bring. Remember the act of your creation, weapons of my warriors, and bring the heat of that crucible to life once more! With every strike you will burn away all that blights the land, so that a new age of peace and prosperity may rise from the ashes!”

No one ever said it was a very nice ideology.

The heat of the tome, having failed to consume him from the inside as he bent them to his will, now instead burst out of him in a faint but wide reaching pulse of magic.

All across the island, each and every warrior, be they seeker or angel, felt a touch of magic like an ember of potential offer it to them. If they accepted it, they would find their blades and arrow heads begin to glow red hot, as if they had only just been plucked from the forge. Despite this, the magic in their weapons would not burn them, merely warmed by their glow. The same could not be said of their foes, who would be seared by the enchanted armaments and quite possibly ignited by the strikes and shots they received.

The effects of this could be seen at once, as one of a group of angels who had once served alongside Edward before he fell to corruption accepted his boon without question, and then unleashed a volley of arrows at one of the kinships, setting it ablaze.

Back in the citadel, the tome snapped shut as Edward gripped it from the underside. His other hand withdrew just in time to avoid being caught between the covers, then held said cover shut as he re-secured the Tome back at his waist.

”Always temperamental that one” he said to alleviate the concerns of one of the feathers who’d come to check what he was shouting about, dusting off lingering ashes from himself before focusing back on the battle, hands gripping the windowsill as he did so.

The ships were much too far away for him to attempt to shoot at them with his magelock rifle with any degree of accuracy or safety, so instead he expended the remaining five charges (the sixth was passively maintaining the searing blade enchantment) of his mana fuel cells Designating Targets.

Whenever he did, arrows flew true, armor broke to reveal corrupt flesh, and ships burned.

After that, rather than stare uselessly at the battle, he checked on the status on the status of the wounded, and then descended the tower to report their location to wherever the main triage center for the battle had been set up.

”alright that’s enough out of you” Midna told the dead end express, flicking a switch and putting an end to the runaway train’s attempts to grind through the massive set of corruption sealed metal doors at the end of the corridor she and Pit and just cleared.

With the machine finally silenced, Midna could just barely hear the sound of fighting from the other side of the other side. Then just as soon as they’d begun to be audible, they were drowned out by an explosion, followed by silence, and then cheers broke out.

”Wonder what that was all about” she asked herself as she rubbed the ear she’d pressed to the door to try and find out what was going on (and got quite the earful of Legion’s explosive end as a result).

Before the princess could turn and tell the troops that the way was barred however, the corruption holding the door shut withered and died along with its master, leaving the thoroughly saw shredded door to collapse and reveal the great hall to be on the opposite side. Within she saw the tail end of the victorious angels ascending through the ceiling, and after calling for her troop’s attention, summoned her flygon and moved to follow them.

As such she arrived outside just in time to get blinded by the return of the sun, and to be the only person not happy about this fact, squinting behind her mask and raising a hand to the glare. ”More twilight would have been just fine” she grumbled as she blinked away the lingering dots in her vision and actually got a look at what was coming.

The haziness of her sight left her initially confused as to what she saw, but at this point flying ships and vehicles weren't exactly out of the ordinary, even if them being shaped like literal ships this time was a bit odd.

As she drew her weapons and prepared for battle, the second support spell arrived in the form of a pulse of slight warmth followed by the idea of a burning ember appearing in her mind. It felt like potential and smelled, or seemed like it would smell away, a bit like Midgar for some reason. A dream of a Midgar that could be: a glowing bastion of hope rather than the blight it had been in reality. Either way, she was initially filled with trepidation, eyeing the magic with analytical suspicion, as were her troops, but another group off to the flank was not, or so it seemed, as their weapons lit up almost immediately.

Exactly like how the corrupted troop’s weapons had been before they all went out suddenly, the princess noted, which she found quite odd.

Still ”Power’s power” she declared after finding no obvious trap in the spell, and accepted the boon as she took off on flygon back. As she did, her lance began to glow red hot, while so too did the claws of her flygon, which seemed to cause it no harm despite its vulnerability to flames. Meanwhile the princess’s other true hand gripped her steed for support, while her two false arms began to pluck at her lyre as they rose adding her own wide reaching support to the battle that caused musical bolts to arch up and out towards a third of the foes who had dared strike at the already embattled angels.

”Let’s rip the fodder from the sky, and then we’ll all tear apart the titan!” Midna commanded her squad as they approached the fighting. With her music already playing havoc on the archers on the ships that should be quite a quick task. Unfortunately the titan in question had different ideas, picking her out as a priority target and unleashing a veritable swarm of cherub-faced missiles her way.

And the way of her squad.

”Scatt-” began to command because no one but a feather-shield would be blocking those and there where not enough of them in her squad to do so, before being struck by a thought and swapping it to ”Up! Gain altitude and stick together!”

The troops reacted quickly, flapping hard to gain altitude, while the princess turned on her steed and watched, waiting, as the missiles arched upwards towards them, closing fast even as they wove to and fro chaotically on their flight path.

”On my signal, we dive towards them” she ordered, holding, holding, and then at the last moment commanding ”Now” right after opening a portal and launching a super-sized darknut out of it, its shield unfurling a massive energy barrier around it.

It, naturally, fell, but it fell down into the path of the missiles as they rose to meet them, shots slamming into the shield. A second later the darknut disappeared into another portal, but the resulting 10mps it was falling at made for a wince inducing landing back in the twilight realm.

She was not using it again till she got it repaired, that was for sure.

The shots that slipped around it tried to arch around the back to try and still hit their targets behind, but said target had dived down after their protector, leaving the missiles to slam into each other as the divers beat their turning speed in their rapid descent.

Mostly.

One survived the multi missile pileup and came rocketing down after them, gaining on the wings powered angels, only for Midna to reach out and grab it with a shadow hand, the princess holding the missile back as her bows spun around in their fall and filled it full of searing arrows, setting it ablaze and detonating it in the process.

”New plan, we take out the big one first!” she ordered now that they were clear, getting them to bank their dive and fly straight for the titan that was Worship.

It tried to stop them, naturally, but its slow to aim prow beam laser was beaten by a ”scatter!” after which they closed in on it… Only to be confounded by a golden hexagonal barrier protecting its front faces, one which Midna slammed a shadow hand into repeatedly to no avail til a feather lose to her relayed a shout she’d not heard about how “the sides aren't protected princess”

Behind the front facing sun shaped array, the rear of the ship was a (comparatively) thin cylinder with two great fins rising and falling from it. The central cylinder also sported another one of those faces the infantile angles all had, one which did not seem pleased when a feather shot an arrow into it.

The hiding swarm of Cachets & Compassions hovering behind the protective front shell didn’t seem very pleased either, buzzing forth to meet them like a flock of angry bees. Still, they were hardly a threat compared to what they’d faced before. The main issue was the hatches opening on the side of the ship that fired spheres of light and a much more manageable amount of missiles at the princess and her troops.

”Swords, take the pests! Shields, protect the others. I’ll see to the ship!” Midna commanded, before diving in on the back of her steed. It weaved around a Compassion, allowing the princess to joust it with her searing hot lance before swooping onward, leaving the burning foe in their wake.

The face on the side of the ship opened its mouth impossibly wide, revealing a cannon that fired another light bolt, but the princess merely slapped this away and retaliated by flicking her lance and sending a slice shaped shot of her own right back at it. The several times taller than her face closed up defensively, leaving it unable to attack as her flygon closed in and began slashing at it with dragon claw attacks that ignited the face as it hacked away.

As it did Midna turned back to watch the skies, arc slashing an incoming Cachet with another lance beam only to be almost bucked from her nonexistent saddle as the flygon suddenly kicked up and away from the ship.

”What’s the problem, thing?” she began to ask, only to see the problem: a fleshy three jawed fanged maw lunging out from where the face had split in half to release it.

”oh. gross” she declared it as her flygon narrowly avoided being snapped up by the mouth that could have swallowed them whole.

The horrific maw snapped shut and then withdrew, covered up again by the face which was looking a fair bit worse for wear. Rather than waste any more time with half measures, she promptly slammed a balled up shadow hand into it over and over till it tried to fight back with its mouth again. When it did, she grabbed it by the ‘neck’ using her shadow hand, dragon claws digging into it as she did, before flow motion leaped off of her flyogon to latch onto the ship’s hull with six claws of her own, dropping her stuff into a portal to do so.

Then she heaved and pulled, straining with muscled and magic till she ripped the maw out from behind the cherub-like face entirely, gutting it in the process. Corrupt meat fell away while the princess flow motion leaped back onto her flygon and then upon it flew back to join her squad.

They were, it had to be said, in rough shape. In killing the face she’d silenced the guns on this side of the ship, but before they'd gone silent they’d given the angels a beating while they kept any enemies off of her back, and they were in no state to do so again.

”We’ve done what we can, let’s fall back to recover” she decided, pulling her beleaguered troops out of the center of the fighting and back towards the ivory citadel.

Within seemingly a blink, a stretched shadow had eclipsed much of the coastline of the port; blotting out the moonlight and amplifying the bright halos of the sunset-tinted streetlights. He had known something had materialized behind him in such a short amount of time, and as he moved to peer around the lip of the container once more, his vision flicked immediately away from the position of the white-suited man as he trailed over the hulking visage of a massive cargo ship- was that a cannon? The PA screeched to life seconds later; causing the man to grit his teeth in pain as he could only now stand and observe the massive ship from his position. No lookouts, no ladders or deployed anchors.. The ship seemed unmanned, save for the thunderous voice of an announcer at the helm. Looking down and patting his waist, he felt the two extra magazines for his .45, plus the heft of the fresh one loaded and chambered into the weapon in his hands. He'd have to get aboard the ship, take out the crew or Marines that must be inside the ship waiting to-

KUH-BRROAAAAAM!

A brilliant starburst erupted from the oversized barrel of the cannon; the cacophonous thundercrack sending a shockwave through the docks- foaming the seawater and pulverizing the wooden boards of the platform as hundreds of orange streaks cascaded against the onyx sky like falling stars. The ship had launched its flak payload in an arced trajectory toward the shorefront shops, and he had calculated that it was an estimated ten seconds before the flak devastated the town. Deafened and hurried by the sounds of his own breathing, the man holstered his handgun as he turned and ran into a dead sprint toward the coastal townside in a scramble to protect the townsfolk from the incoming destruction. It was only at a hundred meters left that he had realized the 'flak' was falling slower than what he'd expected. The projectiles had varying deviancies of speed and distance, and when they smashed into windows, billboards, streetlights... they didn't explode. They got up from what would be a fatal fall, and immediately poised themselves to begin their attack.

A young man twenty years his senior had landed in front of him; executing a perfect tuck-and-roll as he leapt to his feet to turn and face the horned mercenary. The younger chisel-chinned and hair-swept man in question was dressed in a pair of swimtrunks and polarized surfer shades; boasting a disproportionately built torso and arms against a lanky set of legs. The mercenary dropped into a ready stance; teeth grit into a snarl as he felt the familiar urge to fight take hold of his being. He relished it.

"Sup gramps, you ready to make some waves?" The younger man asked. The surfer-dude had chosen the moment to laugh gaudily- and found the open-palm strike of the older man's red bionic hand to contact his nose- sending him flying backward as he landed back-first and skidded against the pavement before leaping to his feet. "Aight, RADICAL IT IS BRAH!" The Dude roared back, now sporting a cartoonish bandage across his nose. The Mercenary didn't respond; face etched into a concentrated scowl as he held his ground and waited for his opponent to come to him. The Dude dropped into a starter-stance, and took big, bounding strides toward the Mercenary as he reared his right hand back to launch a devastating forward punch; only to see in a split second that the horned Mercenary had dropped down two inches, pivoted his body slightly to the left, and launched an uppercut directly into the man's jaw with his right hand; before performing another palm-strike on the man's throat with his left. The two-hit combination had simultaneously propelled The Dude slightly into the air before launching him backward again. The Mercenary was damned if he let that tank of a man get a hit off on him. He was quicker in comparison to the Dude's heavier, slower movements- that was an advatage.

"BUH-GAAAHHHWWWK!" A sonorous warcry bellowed from behind the Mercenary as a full-fledged humanoid chicken had leapt onto him in a back grapple; causing the man to stagger forward and reflexively reach up to seek leverage on the casually-dressed poultry as he found only the ends of the business suit. With one hand on the thing's waist and another at his side, the Mercenary bucked forward and attempted to throw the grappler off- which only made him stumble and fall onto the ground instead. Face-down, the Mercenary felt the behemoth readjust his stance to move off of him as he felt his legs behind picked up. Kicking and attempting to twist himself over to unholster his pistol, the Mercenary was unable to do so as, within a whip of motion, the world began to spin into a miasma of colors as wind muted his hearing. From his benchmark of seeing the surfer slowly rise to his feet, he only counted two rotations in his heightened state before suddenly being let go and thrown into his previous target- the both of them now hurdling into the window of a port office building. The Mercenary, fortunately for him, had his former target soften his blow as a body cushion; finally slamming up against the wall and tumbling off onto the hardwood floor. The impact may have been blunted, but pain screamed in his muscles and joints as he fought the disorientation from being swung by his legs.

Stumbling to his feet, The Mercenary turned around, unlatched his Wu-S from its holster, and fired a single tranq dart into the Dude's head. The man's body jerked in place, then went lax as white comically-sized Z's materialized above the sleeping giant. Of course, he couldn't forget the rapid footsteps of the his new opponent charging into the building. Turning to face the approaching threat, the Mercenary was blindsided by the metallic frame of a stopsign to his upper torso- sending him rocketing into the opposite wall and out the other side of the building as he sprawled out against the ground. Eliciting a hoarse cough, the Mercenary rolled over on his back just in time to see the well-dressed avian leap into the air, holding the octagonal cudgle above its head in preparation for a ground slam. The Mercenary quickly rolled to the side just as the chicken landed with a downward swing- pulverizing the spot he had been in moments prior as he rolled to his feet. Within a second, the Mercenary had moved to close the distance as the chicken was still bringing the weapon up from its downward attack. Lunging to grab the stopsign by the middle pole, the Mercenary wrenched his opponent's weapon in a pull toward himself, before executing a right-footed kick to the being's diaphragm that sent the chicken into a doubled-over stagger; reflexivley releasing the pole which was soon tossed aside.

Wu-S still firmly clenched in-hand, the Mercenary leveled the tranq-gun at the being's head and pulled the trigger as the chicken collapsed to the ground. With both targets neutralized, the man turned on a pivot and made a running dash up to the besieged restaurants several flights of stairs ahead of him. He hadn't forgotten the words of the white-suited man, and with this event that had disrupted an otherwise quiet evening, he had wondered if that and had been involved in orchestrating this chaos.

---

Juri’s ears perked up at the promise of immediate, random acts of violence. They rattled against the roof and cracked the cobblestones of Mafia Town. Juri had been having fun acting as Spider again, but this was sounding like it’d be all out war.

”Well, sounds to me like the circus has come to town.” Juri said. She had little interest in protecting Mafia Town, unless someone paid her too. But if there was going to be a fight, she wanted to be involved. And on raiders and invaders, she could really let loose and even be rewarded for it, just for free. It was pretty much a win win.

Juri sprinted outside, gun slung over her shoulder, an excited grin spreading across her features.

”These idiots are literally raining from the sky! Bwahaha!” Juri spotted a wrestler chasing after some chump, looking to scoop her up into a suplex. Juri’s boot cracked into his skull while he was distracting, and she thrashed him around until he went flying into a brick wall. He stood up fast.

“Th-thank-” The woman began, before Juri turned on her. ”BOO!” She exclaimed, and the victim shrieked and ran off. Juri giggled and turned her attention back to the wrestler, who was already charging her way.

She responded with a heavy kick, planting her front foot and twisting her rear foot forward to slam into him. Then with a cackle, she launched him upward with a wheel kick.

”Come on!” Juri taunted, slashing her foot upward with a streak of energy, which she followed up by sending it along the ground like a wave. When the wrestler went to step around it, she unleashed a fusillade of bullets towards him. Most bounced off his muscled arms, forcing him against the cracked wall. Juri rushed forward, kneed him in the chest hard enough to lift them both in the air, and then spun kick him through the wall. That was the end of that, and Juri took a few moments to kick him while he was down, before standing on his chest and using him as a vantage point to look around.

In all the chaos she saw Chrom and Rosanna raining fire down upon the invaders. Juri scoffed. ”Shouldn’t you two be doing your jobs right about now?” She looked in the direction of the plate. If the mafia boss had any rivals, now would be a time to try and serve his head up on a silver platter.

Didn’t matter much to Juri. She wasn’t getting paid to protect him, she was getting paid on a contract basis to attack his enemies. Besides, the Seekers were nearly done with this place.

…Still. She knew the route up. It wouldn’t take much to check up on him. Saving his life could earn her some big bucks, and there would probably be some skulls to crack on the way up, or down. The goodie two-shoes could run around saving people if they wanted too. Juri turned and ran, making her way to the familiar cannons that she used to launch herself up there.

”What, no way, it's here!” Jr cried out once the unexpected turn of events ending in the ship they’d just been talking about arrived. It was, however, hard to tell if this was Therion being correct about Ⅰ focusing on filling her clock and this being bad luck, of if she’d come for them specifically. Either way, now was no time for lollygagging, the prince declaring ”We gotta get out there and do something!” as he hopped out of his chair and prepared to follow the two fighting ladies out into the brawl

”Wait, hang on” Rika replied from where she was still sitting, before grabbing a generous handful of Nadia’s abandoned Fried Onion Cuttlefish and shoving them into her mouth.

”Siiiiiiis” Jr whined, receiving a full mouthed ”What?” from RIka, who then pointed out she was going to be here for a bit putting her ”Guantlets n rigging on”

Indeed, without the gauntlets in particular, she was a lame duck on land, but she hadn’t exactly expected to fight, and they sorta got in the way of eating. Hence, being ambushed as they were, she was, if not exactly defenseless, then certainly a liability in a fight. Probably. This had never really happened before after all, and Rika was rather annoyed by the interruption it had to be said.

”Fine jeeze let me help you then” the prince replied, leaning his paintbrush against the table and setting about strapping his sister back into her wargear. At least, he thought, with the others charging out to help out like the heroes/battle seekers they were, and the cannon going silent, they were no risk of being attacked.

He thought wrong.

Instead, descending from the sky came a sausage like person in suspenders and dress trousers using a tie as a belt, his fall slowed to a smooth and luxurious ride by his golden parachute.

This person touched down behind where the other seekers had run off to, snapped his suspenders as he watched them take apart some of the other contestants. Then he spun back the way they’d come, namely to the now, seemingly, defenseless restaurant they’d just stormed out of with a deranged look on his face.

“You know what they say, work smarter not harder!” he chirped with the candor of a corporate spokesperson, before strutting in through the doors into the sushi restaurant and asking “now who here’s ready for a once in a lifetime offer; guaranteed to end your life, and enrich mine!”

There were quite a few people inside who had either taken cover or been gawking out of windows, only for all eyes to turn in horror to the horror that was the one, the only: Business Casual Man!

Despite the seekers having mostly vacated however, there were still heroes to be found within.

No, not the junior troop members. Instead a pair of ninja youths who were part of Bancho Sushi’s serving staff, glanced at each other, nodded, and engaged the interloper, drawing massive chopsticks instead of swords from their scabbards.

“Ah, my first sale of the day, and a two for one bargain at that! At this rate I’ll be able to clock out early!” Business Casual Man declared before the girl slashed his chopstick at him. In response, Business Casual Man sat down onto an office chair that appeared out of nowhere, and then spun around the girl while still sitting on it to avoid the boy’s dual wielded sticks.

He got back up, now right between the two, and punched out to both sides with his arms, hands still holding his suspenders like they had been this entire time. As his hands struck, two qr codes generated. These did three things.

They acted like hit stunning repeating explosions that stuck the kids in place as it multi hit them, it generated two 50$ notes out of thin air that slipped their way into Business Casual Man’s pockets, and it also sent the phones of two people recording this off to a pair of strange websites.

Then the blasts ended and the pair of heroes were knocked back, bumping into tables. Before they could recover, Business Casual Man strode after the boy, grabbed him, burped dollar bills in his face, and then summoned a water cooler from nowhere, which he proceeded to lean on and slam down on top of the boy, smashing him to the ground.

The girl came in to protect her co-worker and smacked Business Casual Man over the head with her mega chopstick, only for him to contort his torso around 180 degrees to fix her with his toothy smile.

“Don’t worry, you're next in line!” he declared, before lunge at her, mouth opening impossibly wide to snatch her up with it, before hurling her upwards. Then he extended his torso up in a piston like motion to slam her into the ceiling.

A burst of 1 and 5$ bills accompanied the beat downs, further filling Business Casual Man’s pockets with cash.

At this point the customer base of Bansho Sushi was stampeding to get out through the back, despite the other staff members holaring for them to clear the way. All except Jr and Rika, who had foolishly slowed the gearing up of the former to watch, and were now doing double time to make up for the distraction.

Of course, those two, and especially Jr, were never alone.

”Koopa troop! Attack!” the prince commanded, prompting his three pokemon to enter the fray. Close to the ceiling swooped the Flutter Mane Peeka, across the tables hopped the Mimikyu Mimi, and under them seal flopped the Brionne Dazzle, all ready to fight for their trainer’s protection.

“Step right up, marketable plushies, because there’s a fortune to be made!” Business Casual Man declared, stepping over the groaning staff members, telling them that “I’ll cash you out later” before squaring off with the pokemon.

Well, sort of.

Most of them were projectile spammers rather than honorable brawlers.

Peeka shot out a plasma fusion bolt from her necklace of eyes, only for the man to duck under it, torso contracting till just his head stuck out of his trousers, the shot splitting in two above him as he waddled forwards in this bizarre fashion a few steps before he stood back up again.

Mimi and Dazzle also tried to blast him, but he dodged around the electro ball, and raised a translucent kite shield shaped barrier to block a water gun bullet from Dazzle while saying “Just because it's casual Mondays, doesn’t mean I don’t care about keeping it clean”

Then he was upon them, turning over tables and smashing them apart as he chased after the poor mon, chair dodging around Mimi’s sneaking shadow attempts at swiping at him as he gained on a belly flopping Dazzle, only for Peeka to swoop down and deliver a dazzle he didn’t want: her eye necklace glowing and then bursting with light, which was not something he could block or dodge.

“Ah! My business’ Insurance doesn't cover opticians!” he cried out, stumbling back, prompting Dazzle (the pokemon) to pivot and then corkscrew leap into Business Casual Man’s chest, a wave of water washing fourth over him and briefly stunning him, allowing Mimi to finish the combo with an electro ball that slammed the wet man through a nearby table, the man landing in a shower of splinters and dollar bills.

Despite this hit, Business Casual Man picked himself right back up, and seemed more upset by the hit to his finances than to his person, going “ah! my pension fund!” as he snatched the cash out of the air to re-stuff in his pockets.

He wasn’t going to live long enough to retire and use it.

”and done” Jr declared as he finished squiring for Rika: her gauntlets and rigging where all strapped on, her tiara sporting helmet was donned and her (admittedly just cosmetic) gold trimmed black armor encasing her in steel.

The princess was ready for war.

Rather than charge in like a knight (and she did have the gear for that) she instead simply raised a palm, the rotary barrel within whirring up before she upon fire on Business Casual Man with a hail of machine-gun bullets.

Business Casual Man dodged to the side, only for Rika to summon a twin cannon tipped spear into her other hand which roared like a double barreled shotgun as she, well, used it as one, having found shotgun shells much easier to source than cannon shells. Around her hips, her two double barreled turrets had no such logistical issues, blasting renewably sourced globdules of dark magic at her foe.

Business Casual Man chair spun and shielded as he tried to close in on them, and if it were just Rika, maybe he would have made it. However, all of Jr’s pokemon promptly joined in with the shooting, as did jr with hucked fire balls, as did, of all people, Dave the diver. The man had finally sumo’d his way past the fleeing gusts, and emerged from the back of the restaurant with a massive multi barreled cannon in his arms, which he promptly supported on a counter and then unleashed, firing a rapid fire hail of high caliber armor piercing rounds at their intruder.

Business Casual Man was, in the end, just a very weird man, and he could only survive this onslaught for so long, getting clipped and then simply riddled with bullets. His last words, as he fell to his knees and started to dissolve being “Guess I’m… going bust”

There was a panting filled pause as the cacophony came to an end, before it was broken by an appalled cry of “He’s not the only one! Look at this place!” from Cobra, Bancho Sushi’s owner/investor, because the restaurant was looking a lot worse for wear after being defended, what with the broken furniture, bullet holes, scorch marks, and at least one fire.

”uhhhh, gotta go!” jr shouted, running for the exit, only pausing to throw some healing the way of the two serving kids who had miraculously survived the whole ordeal mostly by virtue of having been laying face first on the floor during the latter shooting gallery. Rika for her part stopped only to grab the strange man’s spirit, stuffing it in a pocket for later.

The troop kids excited pretty late into the actual meat and potatoes of the brawl, and by that point everyone was likely on their way to wherever, but if they weren't well, the now kitted out Rika had an idea of what they should do next: ”We should sink the ship!”

”Wait, what, why? What about the town?” Jr asked gesturing vaguely at the chaos ongoing in it

Rika was entirely indifferent to that situation, but then her her reason going after the ship wasn’t the most inspired either ”Consul Ⅰ won’t like it, and I think I’d like that”

With that said, she retrieved and tossed out her golden spinner, releasing her white whale that would make for adequate transport for anyone coming with them. She and Jr however would have no need for it, as they’d be able to sail right out there under ship girl power.

Roland was making himself a nuisance on George. After landing his initial surprise and frankly unhonorable blow on the kaiju monster Roland gained his first emotion level and with it gained Eternally Lit Lamp, with a deep chirpy voice saying "Follow this lamp. I’ll save you all." which would cause enemies to target Roland if he attacked them. This would come to bite him in the butt as he pulled out his swords and started to cut at George from his now exposed backside in an attempt to go for his spine. This got the ape's attention as his pained stomp made those around him scatter, and with Roland only having starting the fight his new abilities or rather downsides reduced his speed enough for George to get a hold of him, his massive hand way too big for Roland to clash with and win with any of his weapons.

Although thankfully for Roland, this wouldn't be his end as he was rescued by both a tall... oddly vampire looking bug man and Oscar who capitalized on Roland's opening and pierced something quite vulnerable on the Kaiju with his massive lance. Roland reacted to being dropped much like an action hero would, summoning a sword to stab into George's side to slow his momentum and make a reasonable landing. All while Grimm had made a swipe at George's eye, and paid the price for it. But unlike Roland, he was able to avoid the worst of the possible damage with some teleporting powers.

"Thanks guys." Roland said, although Grimm seemed to have to leave to go do something else as an assistant came to help him get to wherever he had to go. Roland was confused, but he'd have to wait until George was dealt with. He was wounded, and with one less eye now and some strong wounds on his leg and body he picked up one of the trees to use as a club. Roland countered him by pulling out his gun and shot the Kaiju in the other eye to ruin his oncoming swing at Oscar, forcing him to swing at Roland at a very weird angle allowing Roland to dodge and raise his emotion level to 2, gaining Watchful Eyes with the same chirpy voice saying "For every creature in the forest I saved, my eyes gained another in number.".

He'd need to help finish George off, as the kaiju ape was taking slow but steady damage from the adventurers around his know kneeling legs. And while that was going on, George was trying to use his free hand to grab some of them in an effort to heal off of eating them. Roland made this difficult though, as he grabbed George's attention with his Eternally Lit Lamp and shooting George with a rotation of his crossbow, gun, and X baton in gun form to keep his range from the giant not expecting another save if he got grabbed again. Being unable to get to Roland with all the things swarming him and his cut tendon, and George being forced to focus on Roland really made things annoying for the Kaiju. Especially with people like Oscar having no qualms about going for any weak points that presented themselves.

That annoyance turned into George grabbing and throwing random things at Roland, including people in an attempt to damage and get rid of this person that was making it difficult to regenerate his health. While dodging people, who were also trying to not hit Roland was easy, dodging benches, trees, and the like were much more difficult and would rely on Roland using his melee weapons to deal with them... Although only his greatsword could handle these giant objects which lead to Roland getting hit by a few of these objects. At least all this interactions got him to Emotion level 3, and with it another power Salvation, with that familiar deep chirpy voice saying "If I kill them first, then no one would be killed by the beast!" This made George's ability to throw objects now obsolete, as Roland hit him once more with a ranged shot, sealing his ability to toss things and essentially helping seal the deal with George.

Speaking of, the final blow to George would come from the EGO page Roland acquired, Justitia and him using it on the ape. Having spent so many attacks on George from range, he was surprised and happy that the target of his rage was coming right for him. Or at least, he was happy until Justitia activated, stopping his fist in mid air as the area turned into a red twilight forest and an ethereal noose wrapped itself around George's neck and raised into the air, essentially hanging the creature on his own sins. If George had been healthier, he would've survived, but as this finished him off George dissolved in a burst of page-like willo-wisps leaving behind a Book of George and everyone cheering as they had slain the monster. Roland meanwhile picked up the book and made his way away from the scene, instead following after that bug. He did help save Roland, but something about him seemed a bit suspicious and he didn't know Grimm like he did Oscar, so giving Oscar a thumbs up as he left, he made is way after Grimm.

Finding Grimm funnily enough wasn't all that difficult. Whatever Grimm had to go and do, he made a straight line for it without any care about being followed. Whatever it was, was incredibly important. And as Roland came into view of the battle, he saw Grimm fighting some.... zombies? Like, actual zombies being controlled by someone he didn't recognize. As Roland approached, one of the bugs that looked kind of similar to Grimm stopped him, saying simply. "Stay out of this unless the master says otherwise. Just enjoy the show." Well... Roland wasn't going to argue if thats what they wanted. He did take a few good hits dealing with George, so he could observe for a little bit.

Geralt didn’t participate much in the ensuing conversations, using his snagged pons to pay for a meal of Black & White Snapper sushi. The news about Consuls 𝙸 and V was welcome, even if it was somewhat minimal. The news about Limsa, on the other hand…made Geralt sigh. “Damn. Knowing what we know now, it was inevitable, but…damn. He sighed, shaking his head. “Consuls. Keep making things worse here.” Between the constant attacks, and the loss of their military leader, Limsa might not last much longer. Unfortunately, the Seekers had bigger fish to fry in the Consuls and Guardians.

Juri’s idea of fighting them was bold, but rash. Geralt didn’t pipe in and say as much, digging ravenously into his sushi instead, but the others didn’t hop on board, so he figured they’d most likely go after the potential Guardian next.

As he was musing on this, 𝙸’s ship appeared on the horizon, resulting in the customers of Bancho Sushi congregating on the balcony railing to see what was going on. When Nadia blurted out that she saw a Flame Clock, Geralt sighed before speeding his eating. He wasn’t missing dinner, Consul or no.

He’d just finished his sushi as the announcer finished his spiel, and he stood with a frown on his face. “That was actually good. I’d have liked to enjoy it.” Now thoroughly annoyed by the incursion, Geralt left the restaurant just behind the others, leaving Junior and Rika inside as the Koopa armed his Abyssal sister. As the other Seekers darted off, he stepped out of Bancho Sushi. Geralt drew his sword with a dismissive sneer, walking towards a group of fighters that had just landed and were looking for a fight.

“Come get it, whoresons.” He snarled as he drew the Sign of Quen, the protective shield shimmering to life around him. Three on one was hardly a fair fight, but Geralt didn’t care to make it fair for the invading enemies. He sidestepped the first punch, bringing his sword up and across the man’s chest, spinning to launch him away with a kick as he pivoted his stabilizing foot to turn towards the woman charging at him in a Bull Rush, turning her momentum against her by crashing the pommel of his sword into her face, knocking her legs out from under her. As she was sent sprawling, Geralt turned towards the third, larger man who seemed to have much more patience.

The bulky fighter stalked forward, muscles bulging and glistening with sweat, a vicious sneer on his face. Before he got too close, he let out a bellowing roar, which gave himself and his allies health regen. Then he ran forward, spinning around to dodge Geralt’s sword with surprising speed, before launching into an Omega Uppercut that knocked Geralt on his back, Quen broken in a single hit.

Groaning, the Witcher pushed himself back to his feet as the three fighters, now healing from the roar, advanced. Changing tactics, he transformed into his Ardor Blossom Identity, tossing a pair of fireballs at the advancing wrestlers. The big guy took the hit without complaint, while the woman ducked beneath it and ran at him. Geralt backpedalled, throwing more blasts of fire to build up energy. When the first male fighter got close, Geralt lashed out with his claws, blocking a high kick with his forearm as he raked the man’s face. He groaned, backing up to give his female partner room to Bull Rush Geralt, but all three enemies found themselves tripped up by Ground Shaker, the energy explosions finishing off the first man.

Charging up a group of fireballs, Geralt launched them at the two remaining enemies, setting both ablaze. His follow-up fireballs caused a chaining burst of flame that finished off the woman, but the larger man seemed only lightly perturbed. He bellowed again, re-upping his health regen, before charging at Geralt.

This time, Geralt returned to his natural Identity, sidestepping and counter-attacking with Aard to shake the fighter’s balance, before unleashing a rapid series of sword slashes to draw blood. Even bloody and battered, though, this fighter was unrelenting, and he launched another omega Uppercut that caught Geralt on the way back, though it was only a glancing blow. “Getting tired of you.” He sighed, putting his sword away and summoning Tartaglia’s Hydro Blades. His slashes came even faster, and the onslaught proved too much to handle for the muscular invader, who fell silently, a defiant glare on his face.

Geralt grabbed the Spirits from the three, stashing them in one of his pouches at about the same time Junior and Rika left Bancho Sushi. He heard Rika say they should go after the Consul’s ship, and despite his misgivings earlier, Geralt decided he’d have to go along. If not to inconvenience the Consuls, at least to make sure Bowser didn’t come back to an empty nest. “I’ll go with you.” He told the pair, making a running leap onto Rika’s White Whale, and stopping to heal himself with First Aid in the process. “If you need a quick heal as well, I’ll take care of that, but it’s less useful in combat. Takes a second or two to use, which is fine if you can take the attention off me, but that isn’t always possible. I also have a few more powerful offensive spells, but one takes even longer.” Best to make sure they knew exactly what he could do before they started the fight.

Rayna and Avmar’s arrival was timed just as Zenkichi’s revolvers clicked dry, and he decided to try out a new weapon: Konoe’s Hero’s Sword. The beam sword was heavier than it looked, though not as heavy as his usual weaponry. He pushed forward, calling out to the pair he vaguely recognized: ”Focus the legs! If you get it down to the ground, I can finish it off!” He vaguely recognized the monster rider from around the city, though they’d never gotten the chance to sit down and talk while she was hanging out with Primrose. Maybe after this, they’d all grab a much-needed drink!

As the crocodilian monster continued her rampage, Zenkichi, Rayna, and Avmar dodged, ducked, dipped, dove, and dodged their way away from punches, kicks, and tail swipes. Zenkichi found himself bearing the brunt of the damage, as Rayna and her Velocidrome were much faster, but that was alright. Finally, after the 180 seconds (minus a bit due to a few buffs) passed, Zenkichi felt more than saw Sandalphon’s halo appear above his head as he received Sigil Released, shedding a faint light. He whooped with excitement, jumping forward and slashing at Lizzie with newfound confidence. As he slashed at her leg, he used Tyrael’s Smite ability, summoning a pillar of fire on her left leg, that also left behind a small energy field that Rayna and Avmar took no time taking advantage off, getting a quick speed boost that let them dash around and land a vicious jumping bite attack on Lizzie’s calf, forcing the monster down as blood oozed out of the wound.

Meanwhile, Zenkichi let himself get hit by Lizzie’s tail, grabbing hold of the appendage even as he was dragged along the ground. He pulled himself onto her tail and grunted, running up it as Lizzie stopped to balance herself and stabbing the Hero Sword into her tail, dragging it up with him. The crocodilian shrieked angrily, shaking back and forth to try and dislodge him, but Zenkichi wrapped his legs around her tail like he was a cowboy trying to stay on a bucking stallion. While she bucked and struggled to get him off, Zenkichi stabbed the Hero Sword into her flesh as a handhold, putting his all into staying on as the superheated blade carved deeper and deeper into reptilian flesh.

Kayna and Avmar did not let this opportunity go to waste, as Lizzie’s wild, desperate thrashing made sure they were far from her highest priority. The pair charged forward to attack, with Rayna leaping off her Velocidrome to slash at Lizzie’s face with her sword, carving a line in her face and drawing even more blood. The crocodile monster roared again in pain, while Avmar slashed at her legs, jumping up to grab hold of her exposed belly with his jaws, ripping and tearing at scales while Sun Guards and assorted monster hunters piled on their own attacks, now confident they wouldn’t meet the same fate some of the more fragile defenders had before now.

Another brutal bite to her leg caused Lizzie to falter, stumbling and crashing into the ground. The defenders cheered and rushed forward, Rattler bolts and blasts of energy flying into the massive creature. Zenkichi pulled himself to his feet and dismissed the Hero Sword, resummoning the massive Greatsword that he had begun the battle with. Hefting the blade high, he let out a mighty yell as he crashed it down into Lizzie’s head, monstrous size proving the key to inordinate exsanguination.

With a torrent of blood, Lizzie’s destruction came to an end, and Zenkichi let out a sigh. ”Well, that’s disgusting.” Nonetheless, he stooped to collect the Spirit left by the invader, before turning to the others. ”Go help deal with that last one! I’m going to check on the carnival.” Having no real authority beyond possibly being the strongest there, Zenkichi’s rallying cry only inspired a hurried reassignment of priority, rather than a heroic ride of Big Damn Heroes, but it was enough to make some room for him to rush down to the carnival grounds to catch the beginning of Grimm’s fight with the mysterious necromancer.

---

“…What if I want to burn the child as well?”

All jests aside, she'd quite enjoyed the ringmaster's poem. The pointless scribblings of so-called artists had never much appealed to the Witch, but when a verse contained so many of her own interests—nightmares and visions and flames, oh my—even she couldn’t help but crack a grin. Who’d have thought that this circus would ever prove so entertaining?

A shame they likely all wanted to murder her, though she was hardly unused to being reviled. Now, should she make a break for it? Those stretching shadows had been warning enough of the impending threat, and the Witch already stood poised to make her escape. On the other hand, she knew a narrow girl like her would never outrun all those hovering bugs, no matter how desperately she fled.

She could stand and fight, then, unleash her power and show these bugs why she was so rightly feared. Their numbers might seem overwhelming, but her spells were well-suited for dealing with clustered crowds, and she hadn’t yet exhausted all her tricks. On the other hand, she’d just seen an enemy casually shrug off one of her fireballs, and wasn’t in the mood to try her luck again. That left only Grimm, and his inexplicable invitation.

The Witch had always been too curious for her own good. That this tall gentleman’s offer was so strange, and so very likely dangerous, only made it all the more enticing to her. Over the whispers and chatter of the audience, over the sweet wet music of her undead slaves doing battle, the Witch sauntered forth to meet the Troupe Master midway.

He bowed, and she nodded her head in return to him. Already tongues of fire swirled up around her in anticipation, ready to set things off with a bang.

Her acceptance seemed to excite the crowd of Grimmkin, igniting a fresh round of eager whispers, and the perimeter of ghostly bugs receded a few feet from the impromptu dance floor to make sure the duelists had enough space. With his polite gesture uninterrupted and over with, Grimm whirled around, then disappeared in a flare of scarlet flame. He reappeared just as suddenly at the Witch's four o'clock position, his arm -itself long enough to reach his knee- already extended with his cape hanging from it it like a membranous wing. Though black on the outside, the odd cloth featured an inner lining of bright, pale red, much like the Troupe master's eyes, and it squirmed with the fitful glow of a sputter candle.

"Ssair." At Grimm's unintelligible rasp, a winged sprite of living flame darted forth like a wrathful magpie, its blazing wings a blur as it hurtled toward its creator's adversary. After a brief, a second firebat surged out after the first, and a third followed its predecessor immediately. Like the Shadows' fireballs they changed course to hunt the Witch down. Their much greater speed made them harder to react to, but easier to evade. Regardless of whether or not they hit, though, Grimm continued his dance. Only a moment after releasing his cloak, he teleported into the air, where he hung suspended for a moment as he wrapped his cloak about him. The next instant he hurled himself down at the Witch in a corkscrew dive, a javelin in the night, but his wounded leg would greatly impede his landing.

The sorceress may have allowed Grimm his bow, but that was all the mercy she would grant him. The moment he started to spin, her wand flicked upwards in a sharp gesture and sent a bolt of fire screaming his way. The merest instant before it landed, however, the Troupe Master vanished into the air, and left her scrambling to find her target.

Where?? She whirled about, eyes blazing blue, but with the audience as a backdrop every direction seemed nearly the same. It was his voice that alerted her, and drew her attention just soon enough to snap off a kinetic attack at the first sprite. The translucent arrow pierced a hole clean through the living flame and left the rest to burn away, though by now another was already streaking towards her. The Witch shot again—a miss—and then lunged to the side, anticipating the worst after her earlier experience with homing attacks. Her caution proved well-founded, and she made it just wide enough to avoid the second darting wisp of flame.

Unfortunately, the Witch wasn’t known for her speed. The third sprite had already adjusted its trajectory, and this time she couldn’t dodge quick enough to slip past it entirely. The projectile grazed the edge of her invisible barrier and left it glowing with residual heat, already a little thinner than before.

With her attention occupied by Grimm’s sequential attacks, she barely had time to react to his following move. With spiraling black death bearing down on her from above, her body responded on instinct, an ungainly dive that left her sprawled on the ground with limbs askew. She’d landed hard enough that it actually took another fraction out of her shield—but it got her clear, and with her barrier receiving the pain for her she recovered almost instantly. Her wand twitched again, and a blinding orange light filled the short space between the Witch and the grounded Grimm as a second fireball roared forth to greet him.

Hampered by the half-crushed leg that nearly buckled beneath him from the force of his dive, Grimm remained crouched long enough that by the time he rose, the Witch's fireball couldn't be avoided. It splashed against his cloak with an angry hiss, leaving the fibers scarred and smoldering, but even in this state the Troupe Master did not stagger so easily. "Hhagh!" Springing off his good leg, he through himself into a second corkscrew lunge, this time purely horizontal. Even if he couldn't put together a proper offense against the Witch's magic, and his injury slowed him down somewhat, his relentless offense would put the Witch's reactions and agility to the test. If his opponent couldn't find a way to seize control of this dance, it would certainly be Grimm dictating its unsustainable pace.

When the momentum of the spiral arrow petered out after about twenty feet, Grimm's cloak unwound and he slid to a stop in a crouching position, vulnerable for a brief moment. Like smoke, however, he soon vanished from the Witch's clutches. He teleported once more, and when he flared back into existence a split second later, he got his bearings and surged toward his foe with something new: a sweeping overhead claw slash, followed after a split second by an unaimed upward slice that carried him into the air. Then, once silhouetted against the night sky, the Troupe Master exploded like a fireworks display, four plumes of scarlet flame raining down across the arena. He reappeared a a short distance away, searching for his dance partner amidst the dazzling blaze.

A sapphire gleam flashed across the spellcaster's eyes, even as her teeth clenched together so hard they could break. Here, in the thick of battle, she felt perhaps more alive than anywhere else, in tune with the mayhem around her. Funny, that she should only see so clearly with death so close at hand.

She'd noticed how Grimm seemed to be favoring one leg, the other twisted out of its proper shape. Vital knowledge, but it wouldn't have saved her from that second lunging attack. Her rescue came from circumstance, luck, and Grimm's own haste: he struck before she could even fully rise to her feet, but did not think to strike downward as he had before.

The Witch dropped straight back into a sprawling position, flattened tight against the ground. Rather than spear her through, the lunging ringmaster shot right over her and quite possibly tripped himself up in the doing. Far too close for comfort, but she was adapting to his speed now: the instant he passed by she rolled onto her back and shot him from behind with a translucent missile.

Too late. He'd disappeared again, and she hit only smoke. A bothersome trick, but she'd seen it once and wouldn't fall so easily again. Her legs kicked out to the side, and her body spun up into a sitting position before he came tearing at her with razor-sharp bug-claws bared.

A more skilled fighter might have tried to parry and riposte; the Witch simply scurried backwards as fast as she could manage. Her foe was quicker, and his first strike again grazed her barrier before she swayed just shy of the second.

She'd avoided direct hits, but already her shield was down to half its full strength. Now it was her turn, though. That flashy silhouette made for such a pretty target, and she'd never miss the chance to add some flair of her own to the performance.

Right as he burst open and unleashed his flames, an answering fireball soared up from beneath. It detonated just beneath him, the edge of the blast licking at his cloak before he disappeared, his quartet of projectiles consumed all at once before they could spread out. The remnants of the clashing attacks rained down across the battlefield as a hail of sparks, a thousand stars in the dark.

Blue and crimson eyes alike hunted one another through the chaos, but Grimm was tall and distinctive, the Witch small and crouched low with knees bent. She fired first this time, following her last fire attack with another just as fierce, then darted preemptively to one side before he could charge her way again.

As the Grimmkin oohed and aahed over the rain of embers, Grimm searched for the Witch in vain. He tasted her fury before he saw her elusive form, and the blazing bolt that struck him brought him below a treacherous threshold. In an instant his body burst apart into a swarm of black batlike insects that fluttered about in a mad panic. Most of them acted as little more than living shadows, but one glowed from within with a distinctive—and familiar—scarlet luster. These frenetic constituent bugs darted wildly this way and that, but they seemed incapable of attack; if her aim was true, the Witch could sling a couple spells before the swarm reassembled.

The Witch in question, though mildly baffled by the bug-devil’s latest trick, had been waiting for just such an opportunity to cut loose. Her wand swayed like a conductor’s baton, and sent half-visible bolts humming through the air one after another, enough that a few were bound to hit their mark. Ruined bats toppled one after another, before the sorceress abruptly ended her solo with a final fiery shot straight at their bright-lit leader. Another detonation shook the field, and a half-dozen charred sets of wings simultaneously fell to earth in its wake.

“I like you better this way!”

She didn’t dare press her offense any further with her mana pool partially drained, but it hardly mattered. Within this brief respite she’d earned, her energy shield had stopped taking damage and started rapidly repairing itself, such that by the time Grimm showed his mask of a face again it'd already be close to full strength. Sweat dripped down her forehead and glistened in her dark hair, but her eyes now held in them a fresh confidence, a certainty that she could win in a battle of attrition. So intent was her focus upon the fight itself that she barely noticed the new figures joining the audience, each silhouette distinct from those surrounding it.

The swarm coalesced then into a ball of writhing wings, and Grimm emerged once more from within. His overall vitality lay just above the halfway point, but his bone-white features betrayed no sign of pain nor worry. He threw open his cloak to bring forth another salvo of firebats…

The Witch took a guard position, her wand held aloft…

…and the twilight tango continued.

---

It was around the time that Blazermate showed up that Therion prepared to take off. It was nothing against the medabot personally. Her timing coincided with the lull in information, which led to a more casual conversation. Therion had been gradually getting friendlier over his time with the group as a whole (whether due to absorbing spirits or just getting used to his new allies), but tonight he really didn't feel like sitting around the open air sushi boat just to chat. He had pons to launder, and if his spot at the Rusty Rudder hadn't been taken, some drunken sailors to eavesdrop on.

Of course it was as he was heading out that trouble struck. Initially uninterested in whatever it was that had captured the patrons' attention, when Ms. Fortune announced the fact that she'd seen a flame clock his ears perked up and he turned around. There it was, on a ship getting awfully close to town and broadcasting a harsh noise that made Therion wince. The noise turned to music and voice just before the cannon fired. The citizens that weren't in shock scrambled to take cover, but the ship's ammunition turned out to be people.

At first glance the invaders seemed to be a random assortment of fighters, from regular humans both masked and unmasked to bipedal animals, but they all did seem to have somethings in common. They were gung-ho, moves telegraphed for showboating, and unarmored - with some of them foregoing all but their undergarments and boots. Given what they'd learned about Limsa, it wasn't a stretch to assume that this was the same force that had been attacking the port city. That little bit of foreknowledge put the Seekers on the move immediately, Therion among them.

The first thing he did was get off of the dock and back onto shore proper. He'd already seen a couple of people get thrown into the ocean, and he wasn't about to let that happen to him. It took less than a moment for the entire town to devolve into chaos it seemed, with those wrestling attackers spreading out from their impact points. Since they were happy to engage anyone in combat, they didn't think twice about taking on anyone stronger than them. In fact, most of them seemed happier with a challenge - or maybe they just enjoyed the mayhem and battle in general. With a flick of his hands, the dual sickles The Last Laugh appeared in Therion's grip.

Before the King of Evil had handed him these sickles, Therion hadn't been much of a dual wielder. In general he preferred to keep one hand free, whether for throwing, grabbing, frisking, or just in case. Not to mention that using a sickle was more complicated than a dagger or a sword. After some practice however, the thief found that he kind of liked using them.

The gold and silver blades glinted in the dimming light as they clashed with the invading wrestlers. He quickly realized that another thing they had in common was that they were all tough, tougher than he'd expected them to be. Even so, he wasn't having much trouble with them so far. Therion leveraged his agility to avoid most of them, even when they changed up their strategies and went for tackles, jumping kicks, or quick palm strikes. If they ganged up on him it was a little harder, but his bladed weapons dispatched the melee fighters well enough that he was never pressed for long.

"These are the same guys that gave a whole navy trouble?" he asked himself, starting to feel a little disinterested in it all. There was no obligation to protect the town, but it seemed the right thing to do given he'd been living there for a week and there were just as many innocent people present as there were mafia thugs. Besides, there was no where else to go on this little island. So he kept at it. While the Seekers split up, some heading out to sink the ship itself and at least one ascending to the top of the dish above the island, Therion's own battling took him further inland back toward the harbor area.

One of the wrestlers he thought he'd downed, a stout man in a gold and green leather mask, jumped back up onto his feet with a bleeding slash across his chest and yelled out at the top of his lungs to hype himself up. The empowering roar seemed to work just as well on a handful of other wrestlers in earshot, since they let out energetic whoops in response and redoubled their efforts to take down anyone they could find, including each other. The masked man who'd roared raised his arms and rushed at Therion. The thief somewhat casually lifted his sickles in response to take the man on, only for a swirl of brightly colored stars and stripes to bowl through the area. It took out the masked man and two others before coming to a stop, the slowed spinning lariat revealing a muscled, mustachioed man at the center of it.

The man was larger than most of the other wrestlers, both in height and bulk. He flexed his muscles and glanced around for more people to brawl with, eyes landing on Therion. Judging the thief to be the strongest person in the immediate area (and not really caring to look farther at the moment), the hulking blonde grinned and took on a wide stance.

"Ready to do this?!" The man asked in a deep voice. Therion sighed through his nose. So there were elites in this group, or something like that? It wasn't a big surprise, although he had assumed that the weird strike force relied on quantity rather than quality. Therion raised his weapons again, flipping one to hold in a reverse grip as his tail swished from side to side. "Are you?"

That answer seemed to please the American. The man lunged forward, immediately going for a grapple. Therion evaded and swiped the guy with a sickle, a thin cut but a start. The wrestler then swung his arm wide, and when Therion ducked under it he tried to get him with a knee strike. This opponent wasn't as easy to read, but he was still slower than the thief - Therion backed away to avoid the strike before stepping right back in with a double vertical slash in front of him. The wrestler hadn't backed up though, he'd pressed forward, and so when he sidestepped Therion's attack it put him in the optimal position to dart behind him for a special move.

The man wrapped his arms around Therion's waist in a crushing grip, setting the thief's fur to stand on end and his danger sense into overdrive. He drove the tips of both sickles deep into the wrestler's arms, and when that didn't work to break the hold he conjured his fire magic in alarm. The Wildfire flared up strong around the both of them, throwing light and dancing shadows around the street. Though the pro wrestler hissed in pain he also managed to let out a laugh.

"Max Morgan's gonna take you for a ride on the pain train - first class!" he bellowed jovially. Then he moved, making Therion's stomach lurch as he raised the shorter and light thief up and over his head. Max practically fell backward as he performed a german suplex, arching his back and slamming Therion into the ground behind them. Therion's head and shoulders connected painfully with the cobblestone. His opponent released him, rolling to stand while Therion laid there for a moment with stars swimming in his vision, and not just from Max's getup.

After dislodging the blades from his arms, Max loomed over Therion and raised a leg. Therion squeezed his eyes shut, conjuring one of his Strikers as Max's boot came down. Nayan appeared over him in a small splash of water, right between the two combatants.

"Hup!" she said as she swung her massive hammer like a golf club at Max. It stuck him in the chest and he let out a pained oof as he was knocked backward. Having given Therion some breathing room to recover, the striker disappeared and her summoner got to his feet. Max did too, rubbing the tender spot Nayan had made before he easily took up his wide armed stance once again.

"Alright kid, let's do this for real!"

Captain Falcon had only walked a few feet away from You Tian when the high-pitched shriek of a microphone caught his ears. After that he heard the voice of someone speaking like they were on some kind of citywide intercom system. They announced the start of something called a Battle Royal Rumble. And immediately after that it became clear why they were addressing the entire city all at once. Cannonfire sounded in the distance and suddenly fighters seemed to be raining down from above! It almost reminded Falcon of seeing the Halberd dropping enemies from Subspace down onto the land below during that whole sordid affair. And no less than four fighters landed with a tuck-and-roll on the back alley street that the Captain was walking on. They looked like masked wrestlers, bulky bodies and speedo-like leotards covering their nether regions along with exaggerated boots and gloves. Each of their masks and suits appeared to have a different colored animal motif - green tortoise, red firebird, blue dragon, and a white tiger.

And that was fine by him. ”Show me your moves!” Cap taunted as he entered his own fighting stance at the same time the wrestlers did. Immediately after he swore he could hear a bell dinging in the distance as if signaling the fight to begin. And these four wrestlers didn’t waste any time. Immediately the White Tiger pounced and went for a flying tackle that Cap was able to sidestep easily enough. He also had to jump straight up to avoid a simultaneous slidling attack that came from the Green Tortoise at the same time the Tiger had pounced. Cap was able to twist himself into an aerial spinning kick to knock away the Red Firebird who was looking to take advantage of the Captain’s precarious position. But that was when Falcon had run out of answers and found himself grappled by the Blue Dragon, and slammed back onto the ground before the bounty hunter even finished landing. Four against one was definitely not good odds. And the Blue Dragon looked to capitalize on his successful attack by bringing both fists down onto Cap’s face while he was still down.

He never got the chance.

A frying pan came careening into the fight from seemingly out of nowhere. It slammed into the side of Blue Dragon’s masked face and sent him aside to regain his balance and composure and allowed Falcon the chance to scramble back to his feet and get ready to fight again. And he also recognized where that frying pan had been thrown from. And sure enough, the owner of it and You Tian came slowly walking out onto the scene from the door of the restaurant. And he did not look happy. “You’ve got some nerve.” Zhao said of the attacking masked wrestlers before he sprinted forward at the recovering Blue Dragon, literally knocking him back toward his teammates with a backflip flip that ended with Zhao landing in a kneeled position next to Falcon before rising to his feet and entering what looked like a breakdancing stance, “You wanna pick a fight in MY neighborhood, you sonuvabitch? Then LET’S DANCE!”



With the two of them, the odds suddenly looked a whole lot better. Cap sprinted with blistering speed to settle the score with the Blue Dragon, launching himself into a downward ”Falcon Kick!” that would have squarely hit the staggering wrestler if the Green Tortoise had not lunged to put himself in the way of the attack and endure with a crossed-arms defensive posture. Meanwhile Zhao went tumbling into a spinning attack, appearing to spin himself while standing on his hands. His first few kicks managed to hit both the Red Firebird and White Tiger before they wisely backed off to avoid getting tripped up by him as he flipped himself back on his feet.

On Cap’s end, he began to evenly trade blows with the Blue Dragon and Green Tortoise - slowly building up his Power Gauge in the process. At one point he caught the Green Tortoise with a ”Raptor Boost!” that launched them upward via a fiery uppercut. But instead of capitalizing with a follow up, Falcon had to instead whirl around and barely prevent a flanking charge from Blue Dragon, by catching him with a ”Gen’ei Kyaku!” that barraged the wrestler with a super fast series of kicks. Behind him, the Green Tortoise hit the ground after the previous launch, and so Cap ended his barrage of straight kicks and spun back around with a ”Ryuugeki Sen!” that launched a disc of fiery chi from his leg at the grounded wrestler.

Meanwhile on Zhao’s end, his strange breakdancing attacks managed to keep his opponents confused, at least at first. But then the White Tiger charged up a Cyclone attack in an attempt to counter Zhao’s spinning with some spinning of his own. Thankfully the former mafia boss had agility on his side, able to use his more nimble form to dodge out of the way and avoid getting caught up in the White Tiger’s cyclone. But this did give the Red Firebird a chance to grab a nearby chair and use Big Swing to spin it around into a mighty throw in order to use it as a projectile attack aimed for Zhao. But Zhao was actually stronger than he looked, managing to catch the chair with his hands and spin it around for another throw aimed at the still-spinning Blue Dragon who had no way to properly see the projectile coming and took the hit full on.

As for Falcon, his opponents were also trying to make a comeback from being on the ropes earlier. He launched into a sliding ”Falcon Kick!” at the Blue Dragon who responded by using a Rocket Jump to launch himself up and out of the way of it. At this time, the Green Tortoise came running at Falcon with a Bull Rush. But rather than dodge it, Falcon decided to meet it head on by launching forward into a ”Knee of Justice!” whose electrical property managed to leave the charging wrestler stunned, so he followed up by charging some chi and spending a built up Power Gauge stock on a powerful ”Haoh Shoukou Ken!” that launched a strong fireball at the dazed wrestler and finally seemed to put his lights out for good. And then Falcon had to shield himself from the Blue Dragon who had rocket jumped earlier and was now trying to crash back down on Falcon with a Diving Leg Drop. It did a lot of damage to Cap’s shield, but not quite enough to shield-break him. And then Falcon hit back, and hard. Starting with a ”Raptor Boost!” that launched the Blue Dragon upward, he then jumped up after him and spent the second of his built up Power Gauge stocks. This let him hit the Blue Dragon with a ”Kuzuryusen!” that juggled the wrestler further up via a series of three backward somersault kicks. Then Falcon launched himself up midair to grapple onto the Blue Dragon with Raptor Dive. ”Yes!” Falcon cheered when his attack launched the wrestler downward and careening to the ground with a heavy slam that appeared to finish the job. Falcon himself of course landed safely back on the ground.

Over in the other fight, Zhao appeared to be preparing to wrap things up as well. He was done toying around with these luchador rejects and now just wanted to put them down. The White Tiger ran at him with a Punchline that Zhao was able to power slide under on his knees. Then the Red Firebird tried to fly at him with a Dive Kick, but Zhao managed to roll out of the way and tumble back to his feet. Next to him happened to be a ladder leaning against the wall. “Get ready!” He playfully said as he grabbed the ladder and began to push forward while spinning it around. This kept the wrestlers from charging at him directly else they would get closeline’d by the improvised weapon. What happened next could only described as an impressive feat of acrobatics. Zhao suddenly stopped spinning the ladder and planted it on the pavement directly in front of the confused White Tiger. Then he quickly scrambled a few steps up the ladder and before it could fall he pulled it up with him in a giant backflip that brought the bottom end up into an upward attack against the White Tiger. After reorienting himself in the air, Zhao then slammed the ladder back onto the ground, this time on top of the Red Firebird. Then Zhao of course safely hopped off the ladder before it finally fell back to the ground with a clatter. And just like that, his opponents appeared to be down for good as well.

“Okay, so… what the actual hell?” Zhao asked when he noticed that Cap was done fighting as well. “Who comes rolling into town and shooting wrestlers out of cannons?” He demanded.

”I was hoping you would be able to tell me that.” Cap said with a shrug, ”So I take it this isn’t normal, then?”

“Not even close.” Zhao said, “But this ain’t no coincidence, Falcon-kun. Can’t be.”

”How do you mean?”

“Mabuchi.” Zhao said with some venom in his tone. “Same day he shows his face, this freakshow circus comes to town? Either he’s behind this or he’s using it somehow. Either way, I’d bet my restaurant he’s making his move right now! Which means I don’t have time to sit around here thinking about this. I need you to take me to where you saw him.” Zhao said to Falcon and then added. “So we can find him and kick his treasonous ass back out of town!”

”No complaints, here.” Falcon said in agreement. ”Follow me!”

After this the two of them went sprinting toward the harbor. If that was where the circus ship was launching fighters, then chances were good they’d have to fight their way through more opponents. But that didn’t seem to be deterring them in any way. Zhao only cared about confronting Mabuchi, and Falcon wasn’t about to let his friend go marching into the lion’s den alone.

Though her gaze occasionally flickered over to check on her allies' battles against George and Lizzie to make sure they were doing alright, Primrose mostly kept her attention on Ralph. Goldlewis and the Sun Guard were doing a number on it before her spell ignited it, but now that it was on fire and thrashing around it was more dangerous. Ranged fighters, archers and mages, didn't have as much trouble continuing the fight but anyone close by the giant was in serious danger as it lashed out with its whole body. Seeing as it was already alight, Primrose snuffed her pyromancy flame in her hand. She conjured her actual dark magic instead, casting Moonlight Waltz to steadily keep up the damage on the beast until someone could interrupt its mad movements.

When Goldlewis shattered some of the bones in Ralph's foot, the Sun Guard moved in with spears held high to stab at it while it retreated. When it started climbing, some even chucked their weapons like javelins. The monster was quick though, even as wounded as it was. The fact that it even appeared to be retreating surprised Primrose, but she thought that it must have something in mind - tearing down a building for cover, smothering the flames in rubble, or something else. Not keen to let it escape, Primrose began to conjure a stronger spell. Inky darkness coalesced in her hands, the mass growing larger until it destabilized and split into three potent blobs of magic.

She was about to cast when Goldlewis hooked Ralph and held on, slowing the monster's escape significantly. Now with some time to spare, Primrose smirked lightly and focused her energy, her aura becoming visible as it changed colors according to her Boost. She pushed two Boosts into the Dirge of Dusk, amplifying its power before throwing her arm out toward Ralph. The spell zoomed toward the giant, three bolts of black energy flying through the air. When they struck it was hard and painful, but not explosive - the dark magic almost seeping into skin before fading. Unfortunately it didn't seem like that spell alone was enough to put the wolf monster down just yet, but the linger effect it had of lowering Ralph's resistance to dark magic would make it easier to finish him off.

Primrose moved up, getting closer to make sure she didn't miss. She glanced at Goldlewis to try and get a sense for how long he could keep his hold on the beast. Judging the veteran to be able to hold out she took a deep breath, using another of her Boost Points to empower another cast of Moonlight Waltz. She extended one of her legs and spun in place, letting the magic curl around her arm until it was ready - then let it loose to engulf Ralph in shadow. It smothered the fire on his fur and was the last pushed needed to stamp out his life force as well, and the harpoon stuck in him clattered to the ground as Ralph's body began to dissolve.

"That's the end of it," Primrose sighed. She still had some mana, but she'd spent a lot of it just to make sure the monster was dead before it could break free from Goldlewis' hold - and that wasn't counting the dances and earlier spells. It was for that reason she didn't offer to heal her fellow Seeker with Warmth, though he looked to be alright anyway. Thankfully she tended to recover mana rather quickly, but she hoped there wouldn't be any other monsters looking to terrorize the city tonight.

Amid the cheers of the civilians and Sun Guard as the trio of monsters fell, the sound of battle still went on. Curious, Primrose turned in the direction it was coming from - finding a battle between a woman and the carnival's headmaster. Had there been some friendly fire during the fight that led to Galeem's influence taking effect on them? The two of them had begun to draw a crowd now, which could be dangerous if they happened to strike anyone else during their battle. If they killed each other, no one else under Galeem's spell would really bat an eye - but if they happened to attack someone in the crowd even by mistake, it could start a chain reaction.

"We should stop them," Primrose suggested to Goldlewis, the only one nearby. Then she made for the battle to do just that, reuniting with Roland and Zenkichi in the process who were already there.

As Roxas battled Beloved, Edelgard used her overwhelming strength to annihilate each Corrupted that dared face her. Compassions tried to buzzsaw their way through the ranks, but they found themselves parried by Swords and blocked by Shields, while Bows and Staffs buffeted them with arrows and magic. Ayfids were, ironically, the greatest threat, as the angelic attackers had to focus their efforts on preventing the Compassions and other Corrupted from carving through their ranks, leaving the flying magic-users the room they needed to attack from afar. When they could, Featherbows took aim at the flying Corrupted, but this was not as often as they needed.

As Edelgard struck down another Corrupted angel that challenged her, she felt a blade slash across her face, leaving a cut in its wake that a Featherstaff quickly healed. A Sycophant rose from its ambush, having caught the Empress off guard. It quickly launched a series of slashes aimed at her joints and head, looking to take advantage of any possible weak spots her armor had. It was hardly enough to leave more than superficial damage, though she found herself having a hard time actually closing the distance the Sycophant kept creating to strike it. In so chaotic a melee, that shouldn’t have been possible, but the Corrupted assassin was acrobatic enough to duck and weave around and through its surroundings.

It was when the Sycophant leapt forward to strike again that Edelgard found her opportunity. She hefted Aymr, bashing the haft of the ax against the Corrupted’s arm. Her shield crashed into its face next, knocking it back and into a Feathersword which whirled on the Sycophant, carving a deep gash into its back before an arrow sprouted from its side, finishing the monster off. ”Thank you.” Edelgard offered, as Roxas crashed into the ground next to her and rolled to his feet. As his Curaga washed over the assembled angelic forces, Edelagrd smiled at the Nobody. ”Thank you, as well.”

With Roxas back in the melee, Edelgard took his place fighting Beloved. The golem was clearly on its last legs, with Roxas having dealt an incredible amount of damage in a short amount of time. Between his fast attacks and easy access to Beloved’s weakest points, Edelgard didn’t feel too overshadowed by the Nobody’s success, but a twinge of jealousy did burn in her for the relative ease with which Roxas had done what he did. If that was magic she could learn? It would help negate her greatest weakness!

Stepping forward and disregarding that line of though, Edelgard bellowed out a war cry to challenge beloved, who ran forward and used its momentum to unleash a truly devastating overhead slash. Even Edelgard felt her bones aching as she barely blocked the blow, her shield ringing from the impact. Undaunted, she stepped forward and swung Aymr into Beloved’s already-damaged leg, the cracked limb finally buckling under the barrage of blows. While it didn’t shatter completely, this last impact sent deep cracks running across the leg’s length, and Beloved found himself bowed once more. Instead of climbing its back to gain access to its Corruption cluster, Edelgard crashed Aymr onto Beloved’s skull from the front, her Crests glowing from the effort as Beloved went from kneeling to completely prone. Imperiously, Edelgard climbed onto Beloved’s back from its shoulder, hefting Aymr with another war cry.

”FOR LADY PALUTENA!” She roared, as Aymr struck Beloved’s most vulnerable point, destroying the Corrupt Champion finally. She watched as Roxas helped her angels clean up the last of the Corrupted forces, a Featherstaff having left the battle to heal her up. Taking the Spirit left behind by beloved, Edelgard frowned at it. ”The relic of a difficult foe. I wonder what might be gained from you?” Storing the Spirit for now, Edelgard joined the others as Palutena’s forces gathered in the Great Hall.

The corpse of Legion, more specifically the gargantuan eye that its head had become, disgusted Edelgard so greatly that she had to look away, lest the bile tickling the back of her throat spill forth. She kept it out of her direct line of sight as she fought the Corrupted, though she found that doing so made her less effective a combatant. What a horrific thing to unleash upon the world. It was no wonder that Lady Palutena wanted it, and these abominations, destroyed. Thankfully, it was not long before the very same Goddess acted, her voice ringing out in the great hall. A moment later, the hall shook as its ceiling began to collapse inwards, huge chunks of masonry crashing onto the Corrupted forces, crushing many of them as the heavenly army rallied, with Uriel and Nathaniel taking the fight directly to the source of their woes, destroying the dreadful disc and freeing them from its effects. The Corrupted that remained fell in moments, and finally, all was calm. The angels cheered, and Edelgard felt the joy of victory sweep through her, her own hand rising in triumph.

Unfortunately, their revelry was short-lived. Celia returned with Ortho to both congratulate them and remind them that this was only one part of their efforts. Sighing, Edelgard boarded the majestic Griffin, bidding Roxas join her. As they rose, they saw what had demoralized the other angels, the massive Corrupted ship-weapons approaching them, albeit slowly. ”While I am ready for more battle, the Black Eagles did suffer some casualties, and not all of them are in perfect fighting shape.” She reported to Roxas and the other Lieutenants and Captains, frowning.

Their despair, also, was short-lived, as Lady Palutena directly intervened in the battle once more, summoning a Dream Blossom to light the sky for them. A wave of cheering exploded amongst the angels once more, and Edelgard smiled. This was why she respected Lady Palutena so deeply, why she fought so fiercely for her. She cared. She oversaw the battle from afar, but rather than handing down orders dispassionately, she bided her time and her power to utilize it where it made the greatest difference, trusting her followers to handle the smallest of details.

Ortho took off with his passengers, charging into the Corrupted lines like a missile himself, charging directly at a Kinship. Edelgard understood immediately what he planned, and turned her head to warn Roxas. ”He means to have me board a Kinship! You are free to join, or remain on his back, but when the ship is scuttled, he will be returning to pick me up!” True to what she said, Ortho was taking them directly into the path of one of the Kinships, from which arrows and missiles were launched aplenty. Ortho’s immense size and front-facing armor meant most of these arrows pinged off him without so much as a blink, but he had to be careful to dodge the missiles, even as he swiped at the ones he passed with talon and wing. It was far from a smooth ride, but at least it was quick: within two minutes of takeoff, Ortho passed over one of the Kinships, giving Roxas and Edelgard time to drop down.

Edelgard’s landing was unmistakable, and though a small contingent of the Black Eagles had come with her, the rest stayed with Ortho, taking the battle to the skies and cutting down hordes of angels while their leader and her guard dealt with the strategic assets. Edelgard glared menacingly at the Corrupted that turned to face her, some dropping their bows and drawing knives and short swords with which to fight in close quarters. Her Featherswords darted out to take down the archers that kept their focus outwards, while Edelgard charged forth to cut down the ones who had taken to defending the ship.

As the weaker Corrupted dissolved into ash, Edelgard collecting their Spirits, the pair of Corrupted angels that helmed the ship strode forth, greatswords at the ready. Edelgard cursed, knowing her weakness against their arms, but she was not deterred. Aymr was no mere ax: it was a representation of her power, her lineage, her struggles. And she was not alone, as her Featherswords made short work of the corrupted archers, though the sheer numbers meant that they would not be able to rejoin her until this battle was well underway.

These angels had clearly been of somewhat higher rank than many she had faced before, as Edelgard found that they took more than a blow or two to fell, unlike some of the others she had faced before. That proved troublesome, though Edelgard’s constitution was nowhere near frail enough to be overwhelmed by two simple foes, swordbearers or not. She held them at bay with her shield, even as their repeated blows sent shockwaves of force through her arm, before taking her opportunity to strike. The Corrupted angel she chose avoided her first swing, though Edelgard followed up with a shoulder check into a shield bash which sent the angel reeling. She crashed Aymr onto it with an overhead swing, wincing in pain as the other Corrupted took the opportunity to attack her exposed back. Still, her plate kept the wound from being more than a nuisance, and she repeated her overhead swing to destroy the corrupted angel before turning to its fellow, who started to advance before an angelic sword exploded through its chest, leaving it to dissolve into ash as a Feathersword saluted Edelgard, gesturing to the rest of the ship. “Lady Edelgard, the ship is cleared. We are free to destroy it and move on.”

”Very well. Send for Ortho, and we shall scuttle this ship before we do so. We must prevent the massive ship from reaching Skyworld.” Nodding at the command, the Feathersword flew off, almost immediately spotting the regal divine beast and making a beeline for him.

Once Ortho returned and Edelgard was onboard with Roxas once more, they made their way towards the figure of Worship, with the Black Eagles taking the front to deal with the smaller Corrupted that protected the missile-ship. While her angels did their duty, Ortho took Edelgard and Roxas close enough to attack. Edelgard stashed Aymr, instead gathering her short axes to throw at the ship. As Midna and her angels pulled back after dealing a crippling blow, Ortho pulled them around the other side of the monstrous ship, another smaller face exposing itself to attack.

The angelic griffin lashed out with its talons before fully opening his wings to duck backwards away from an attack, and Edelgard threw an axe into the face, following up with a fireball for good measure. As Ortho moved back in, the cherubic face opened to reveal a disgusting three-pronged maw, which Edelgard swung at with her held short ax a few times, and Ortho clawed at with his talons once more. As the maw slammed shut on Ortho’s wing, trapping him, Edelgard’s Gleaming eyes blazed with fury. She summoned Aymr once more from her inventory, grabbing hold of the Corrupted flesh with one hand and carving into it with her weapon, sawing as if her weapon were a carpenter’s tool, and not a twisted facsimile of a Hero’s Relic.

Taking a chunk of flesh from the Corrupted maw, Edelgard had given Ortho enough room to free his wing, though it was visibly damaged. As they backed away to let another group attack, Edelgard gently ran her hand through Ortho’s feathers as she chanted her healing spell, focusing the magic on Ortho’s wounded wing. ”The others will have to do the rest. Let us deal with the small fry before continuing to Citronpool Harbor.”

Well, whatever those people at the docks were planning came to Mafia town a lot sooner than anyone thought. Its almost if Blzaermate had stayed behind for another 5 minutes she would've had a front row seat to what was basically a bunch of clown cannonballs being launched and attacking the Mafia with wrestling moves. "Thats just weird. So uh... guess we've gotta go help?"

Before she figured out a place to go, Blazermate decided to set up a safety zone. She summoned her engineer who began to build his base, and once the sentry was at least rank 2, she zoomed off to heal and heard the civilians to the safe area. Well, those that weren't caught in combat anyway. While the other seekers went off to either attack the boat itself or defend the city, Blazermate helped with the defense of the town. Something that'd be kinda... interesting since she'd be healing Mafia who were engaging with some of the wrestlers. Making ti so that Mafia that would normally probably lose these fights, suddenly have a turn around and win. At least for the first two she healed and overhealed before leaving for a few others. While big and brutish, they were at least thankful with a single "Thanks blue angel" from one of them in an accent Blazermate couldn't place.

Another thing, healing all these people charged her ubercharge and her projectile shield very quickly. Especially when she came about a group of 3 mafia who had teamed up to take out one of the clowns and were low on health, at least until she healed them up in mere seconds as their wounds were old. Having her resources all set up, she'd have to help one of the others with one of the bigger bads. Perhpas the first one she'd see as she flew around.



Sectonia didn't rest as long as many of the others did, her items letting her heal and restore herself faster than the others even with her giving some Death Pulse healing. As such, she wasn't near Edward when he did his flame sword buff and didn't receive it but would come to find what Edward could do the next time. She wouldn't have much use for it anyway, as she used her holy light to launch sweeping beams of pure light at the corruption until they seemed to unleash their trump card, a sick twisted abomination of considerable power. While the angels could finish it off, it left them bereft of strength which would soon be remedided as the sky shown with bright light from Palutenia, the roof of the building having been blown off to reveal an oncoming airship battle.

While the others engaged some airships, Sectonia instead would try to blast them out of the sky with one attack. Charging a reality shatter, she unleashed it upon an airship who was engaging Edelgard and Ortho, the shattering of reality causing the ship itself to shatter like glass as a white void was left behind. She'd get their attention with an attack like that, if not, her followup blasts of radiant light would find their targets...

When Edelgard went back to fighting Beloved, Roxas took that as a cue to shift his focus on cleaning up the remaining corrupted. Between himself and the remaining Black Eagle Squad, that didn’t prove to be a particularly daunting task. Although for Roxas, his MP was currently spent up which naturally held him back from going full tilt, but that was mitigated by the presence of allies fighting around him as well.

With Beloved down and his forces mopped up, it was time to move on. Roxas mounted up with Edelgard again on Ortho and they took off for where the battle would take them next. Being on Ortho’s back meant that he and Edelgard got a pretty good view of Legion’s downfall. And it also meant they had what was basically front row seats to the appearance of the Worship and the accompanying Kinships. As Edelgard dismounted in order to board a Kinship for an assault, Roxas was about to hop down to join her, but changed his mind at the last moment.

Edelgard’s Black Eagles had split into two groups, with the smaller one going with their leader and the larger one remaining in the air. He figured it wasn’t to leave the other half hanging on their own and decided he’d stay up in the air with them! …Somehow. He’d work out the details about that apart as he went along. For now, he stayed on Ortho’s back and accompanied him with the Black Eagles into the aerial battle.

The aerial battle was a chaotic mess of angels and corrupted angels duking it out in the sky alongside projectiles fired into the fray from the flying ships. As such, the flight on Orthos’ back was anything but smooth. Not that Roxas was planning to be a burden on him forever. As soon as he spotted a corrupted in close enough proximity he did the unthinkable and actually launched himself off of Ortho! He used his StepSword to instantly move himself into a striking position to slash at the corrupted with his ignited energy sword. After that all he could do was start falling, albeit with his arms and legs out in order to slow his descent as much as possible. A passing-by Feathershield grabbed him under the arms and then swung the Nobody back upward a little bit.

During this moment Roxas was able to lock onto another corrupted and used his StepSword on it as well. But rather than fall and rely on being caught, this time Roxas instantiated a platform of virtual cubes he could stand on to stop from falling. Then he used his RockGun to start taking potshots at corrupted whenever they were close enough to be in range. But his efforts didn’t go unnoticed, as a corrupted came swooping in to try and knock him off of his platform. But rather than fall helplessly, Roxas managed to grab ahold of his enemy and brought them both into a freefall that ended with Roxas kicking himself up off of the enemy. And with that he was able to instantiate a new platform of virtual cubes, though this was more scattered and required him to use Flow Motion to maneuver through.

But once he did he was able to launch himself at another aerial corrupted and once again take it by surprise with his StepSword. This pattern repeated itself a few more times. Roxas would use StepSword to attack an aerial enemy and he would make sure to kick himself off of their body in order to allow himself the chance to reuse his virtual cube constructs to keep from plummeting to his demise. Or occasionally a member of the Black Eagles would catch him under the arms and swing the Nobody and essentially “throw” them toward another enemy he could attack with his StepSword.

But eventually, Roxas finally spotted the form of Ortho swooping back toward him and so he gratefully managed to land safely back on the griffin’s back. Or, well, as safe as he could be in this chaotic aerial battle anyway. ”Looks like Edelgard’s ready for a pickup!” Roxas called out as he pointed toward the now-heavily damaged Kinship that he saw Edelgard standing on. As such, Orthos went in so that Edelgard could mount back up on his back.

Now it was time to take on the big one, the Worship. Midna had already gotten started on it and now even Edelgard was preparing some axes that she could throw as they flew by it. Well, Roxas made similar preparations, readying a Keyblade in his left hand and his RockGun with the right hand. For the most part, Roxas stuck with projectiles at first. He shot charged RockGun shots from his right gauntlet and Firaga spells from the Keyblade in his left hand.

And when the cherubic maw had gotten a hold on Ortho, Roxas was quick to act alongside Edelgard. While she worked to try and get the griffin free, Roxas took that moment to go into a flurry of Keyblade strikes against the cherubic face to get in as much damage as he could before Ortho took off again. And once they had taken off, Roxas decided to use his Curaga spell again. ”Heal!” So that it could undo as much of the damage Ortho took from the Worship’s bite as possible, especially alongside the healing that Edelgard was giving him. It also served to give some healing to himself and Edelgard - if she needed it.

”Yeah.” Roxas said in agreement with Edelgard’s suggestion before quickly correcting his manners to be more respectful to the commander. ”Er, I mean - yes Ma'am, Commander!”

After clearing out the last of the bottom floors with Midna, Pit and his squad began to ascend. They passed through floors they'd cleansed and those already run through by others, hoping that the battles they heard still in progress were going well. Palutena's voice was a welcome one even if it came as a warning, which led Pit and his troops toward the great hall where the rumbling and crashing eventually gave way to victorious shouts and celebratory cheers. They found there way up to the top of the citadel, joining in with whoops of their own. Up there, they regrouped with the Seekers, Uriel, Nathaniel, Fodoquia and the rest of the army, and... some other guy. Well, he'd ask about it later - there were more important things going on.

Their next battle had come quickly. Too quickly for some. But in true divine fashion, Lady Palutena pulled through. As soon as he heard the order, Pit took flight. The Host moved behind him, and while the faster forces sped ahead Pit's own troops stuck by their captain. They let out a chorus of courageous roars as he called to them, "In the name of the Goddess of Light!"

The flew swiftly in the same formation as before, eager to purge all corrupted that flew in their path. All of them claimed the offer of fire without question, as did Pit when he felt the little tingle in the back of his mind. He didn't know what it was, but he assumed it was helpful. Some angels, daunted by the sheer size of the rocket-shaped Worship, chose to ignore it in favor of destroying the more manageably sized Kinships and their crews. It wasn't a cowardly tactic - the Kinships needed to go down at some point, and without their archers letting loose it would make things that much easier in the air. Pit split his squad up for that purpose, sending them to rain fire on as many Kinships as they could reach thanks to Edward. Entirely unfazed by the massive false angel (aside from letting out a whoooa! when it first appeared), Pit was headed right for it however.

He found the same issue that everyone else choosing to face off against Worship had - it was protected by a strong barrier that couldn't be broken through with brute force. Pit backed off after trying all of the equipment at his disposal. There was obviously some trigger to lower the shield, but what was it? Where was it? With missiles, arrows, lasers, and corrupted angels all flying around through the air, he didn't have time to stop and think about it. Rather, he went on the defensive. While trying everything at his disposal he'd ended up with the Breaking Palm equipped, and with some effort his energy output could match the fusillade of missiles the massive angel ship was putting out. As Palutena's Army got to work, Pit protected all of them as much as possible. Streaks of light and fire shot out from the palm of his hand, chasing after cherubic missiles and corrupted arrows alike to destroy them in flight. He couldn't take down every single one, so he focused on what was coming out of Worship itself while Feather squads took to taking out the Kinships. That huge laser was still a problem, but at least it couldn't be fired as much as its other attacks.

When the first of the faces on its flank were destroyed, the golden shield around its front faltered. Given Worship's size, everyone could see it - and they now knew what action they had to take to bring it down. Scores of angels flocked alongside Edelgard, Roxas, and Ortho to take out Worship's entourage so they could get at the second smaller face on its side. Pit moved to join them, which is when an unfortunate, inevitable event happened. Prior missions he'd run since reuniting with Lady Palutena had been ground battles, or if they did have an aerial component it never lasted for very long. For that reason, and the fact that both Pit and Palutena were so focused on the mission at hand, both of them had let a crucial piece of information slip to the back of their minds. Pit was reminded of it only when he felt something in his third pair of limbs: heat spreading from the tips of his feathers into his bones, and gradually growing hotter.

It wasn't yet anymore painful than a mild sunburn, but Pit unfortunately knew from experience that it would get very bad, very fast. He couldn't help the blip of panic that seized his heart, and he shamelessly called out for his patron deity. "Lady Palutena!!"

Even while monitoring the battle, her favored angel's voice reached the goddess easily. Her attention snapped to him, and she could see the once soft blue aura around Pit's wings was turning orange. Due to Pit's weak wings, the Power of Flight could only be used on him for up to five minutes before he needed a rest... and they were cutting it really close with the time limit. When she realized what was going on she instantly cut the connection of her magic to Pit, which naturally caused him to start to fall with a squawk.

Whoops. It's been a while since we've needed to use the Power of Flight this long. I nearly forgot.

Much more casual with him than when she was commanding her army, she didn't sound worried at all that Pit was hurtling down through the air. To be fair, he was used to that - and in multiple directions. But since she wasn't worried, Pit wasn't either. There were tons of angels around after all, and anything was better than his wings burning up. He did cross his arms as he fell though, giving the captain of the guard the appearance of a pouting teen. Forgot? That's fine I guess. I mean, it's just my life at stake. No biggie.

Don't get sassy on me now. Palutena's amusement came through in her telepathic voice, chasing away the last of Pit's apprehension from the brush with the time limit. He cracked a grin, the familiar banter lifting his spirits like little else could.

While he was falling, the corrupted archers hadn't sent any arrows at him. They probably figured that he was just another angel shot out of the sky. When a Feathersword and a Strongarm swooped down to scoop their captain up, suddenly the three of them together made an enticing target. Pit switched out the Palm for the Guardian Orbitars, directing his escorts to go straight back up into battle while he fended off the projectiles streaking their way. Arrows, bolts of corruption, and even a few missiles with faces on them crashed against the two free floating shields without getting through. It wasn't smooth sailing, but it was relatively safe. They were just about back in the action when the front faces of Worship opened up once more, particles of light collecting in its mouth for the laser they all knew was coming. It was aimed at the largest collection of Palutena's forces, and though Pit's escorts began to move away from the danger zone Pit himself had other plans.

"Keep going, get in front of it!" He ordered, and the soldiers complied without hesitation. Trusting their captain they rushed straight forward toward the looming mouth charging its laser until they were directly in its path and still going. It fired, and Pit activated the Orbitar's special shield. The huge, winged energy shield materialized in front of him, blocking the laser in its entirety while floating forward, steadily pushing the condensed light closer to Worship. Both the laser and the shield itself petered out before anything else happened, but all of the angels behind them were safe and now the path to Worship's main face was clear. "Charge!"

Flocks of angels dove in to strike at Worship, Pit's remaining squad members among them as they'd spotted their captain. When he was close enough Pit hopped out of the arms of his rescuers, swapping weapons once more to bring the Upperdash Arm down hard on Worship's porcelain-like face. Having been on the defensive pretty much the whole time in the air battle, getting up close and personal felt good - and it cracked with a satisfying noise. The collection of Featherswords wasted no time in following up. Under a concentrated beating by the heavenly host, Worship faltered. It shuddered and unleashed a whole new round of missiles, but its attackers were much too close to it. It opened its mouth to try and fire off another laser, risking the exposure of its weakest point in a last bid to scatter the angels assaulting it. It never got the chance to fire as Pit brought the hammer-like Arm down again alongside the Feathers blades, shattering the orb in its mouth and causing Worship's body to fail. Explosions went off inside of it, including at its head, the force of which pushed the angels away. Most flew up, and one fell down.

"We did it!" Pit cheered while he tumbled through the clouds again. Now there was only one more island to go, and they'd won!