A girl wearing swimwear and two lumps of crude metal who’s ends were twisted into snarling human toothed maws filled with guns skimmed across the waves. Around her sailed her twisted sisters, some looking just like her, others deformed and barely humanoid, all of them paling when compared to the terrible beauty of the railgun tailed princess commanding the assault.

Their target was a luxirouse vessle that had foolishly sailed into their waters, and yet what should have been a soft target had turned out to be anything but. Onboard the ship, an eclectic force returned fire with arrows, lasers, bullets, sorcery and more, their deadly rain cutting down the fleet’s forces with frightful ease.

The girl saw her sisters’ bodies shattered, melted, and punctured as they fell around her, familiar reflections suffering familiar fates.

Then she saw her own death.

A figure, unknown to the girl then and yet well known to the girl (or so she had thought anyway) now stomped over to the side of the ship she was attacking, hoisting a massive fireball cannon over his shoulder. With a pair of roars from weapon and wielder, the oversized weapon fired, and the memory came to an end.

That one hurt a bit more than the previous ones.

Then yet another began.

Enemy ship girls, sea monsters, grineer troopers, actual full sized war ships and more all put an end to the girl. Over and over and over death came, and over and over the system remade her to be fodder.

There was no towering height before a Consul cut her down, no running away to live a peaceful life in some quiet backwater. There was no story that was her own to remember, because this was it. This, out of so many lives, untold re-spawns, was the only time she had ever been anything more than a pawn with a lifespan measured in weeks at most.

Next time it would be more of the same.

It was that, not the replays, that was the real nightmare. The lives, real or imagined, blurred together until everything clarified into the sight of a spiky shelled turtle walking away from her as everything she was now turned to ash, rotting away, revealing the infinitely replaceable peon within.

Then it ended with a light slap on her cheek.

Rika’s eyes blinked open sleepily and she tried to move, only to find herself more or less ensnared in blankets as a result of her tossing and turning. She groaned quietly, and then her eyes found the scribbled face of a haunted patchwork Pikachu doll staring at her from where it was perched on her shoulder.

That had really freaked her out the first time it had happened, but now she just moved her eyes down to where Mimi the mimikyu’s actual eyes where (namely in the doll’s torso) and found them looking concerned,

Rika (that was her name, she had one, she’d picked it, it was hers) made a incomprehensible grunt of ”mnya before sighing and trying to getting her vocal cords to actually work so she could apologized for waking the mon, only for it to push the cotton filled head of its disguise forwards to rub against her cheek.

She sighed again, staying still and enjoying the moment for a moment, before glanced over at the other bed where a spiky turtle shell lay atop a pillow alongside two other pokemon. A soft muffled snoring came from within the shell, while a bubble inflated and deflated at Dazzle’s nose, and Peeka’s spectral form was clipping through the mattress in a way it somehow found comfortable

She was relieved that she hadn’t woken anyone else.

”Thanks“ the ship girl managed to say drowsily to Mimi, sleep coming for her again, before scooping up the little eldritch horror that had woken her from her nightmares in her arms, and cuddling it while she drifted back to sleep.

Her second harvest was fortunately/sadly a much more meager crop of night terrors than the first.

---

In another room, Edward tossed and turned as well (though for him this was mostly due to trying to work out how in the world you slept in a bed comfortably when you had two massive feathery wings sticking out your back) while in a third Midna dreamed of her past life as conqueror of the Dead Zone again, mind drifting to and from battles fought in places that no longer where.

Blessedly the alarm went off before the dream could reach the fatal encounter with D, but even dreaming of that place reminded her of him, and that was not, in her mind, a good omen for the mission it turned out they were going to be going on.

Edward arrives at that meeting by virtue of operating under military time schedules and sharing a room with a man who did the same, and who seemed disinterested in small talk. Midna got there on time thanks to shadow hopping from her room to the briefing in no time at all after initially running late (her new sea of hair was an absolute face to keep tidy). Finally, Rika and Jr were late thanks to the former soldier needing to badger the spoiled prince into not just going back to sleep after the alarm had finished going off.

The yawning sleepy eyed prince got a pair of wake-up calls in short order however.

The first was the knowledge that they were going back to the dead zone (he’d muffled Hope’s announcement with a pillow), which he’d only been in very briefly, and had very much not enjoyed during that short stint. Neither had the other Koopas during their varying length trips to it, which cemented his distaste for the place.

Rika had heard about those misadventures second hand as well, commenting ”That’s the place Papa really didn’t like, right? So isn’t it kinda good that it got exploded?”

”yeahhhh, but now we gotta clean up the mess, urgh” he grumbled back quietly, only for the second shock to really wake him up properly.

Midna, Edward and many others might have balked at the use of infants of all things as detection devices, but for Jr it was the specific infants that he took issue with, namely: ”what, no way I’m going to carry Mario around like some kind of yoshi! Not him, not Luigi, not Peach or Rosalina!” and not just because caring around his Papa’s worst enemy around in the same way Kamek’s one had done felt a bit like a betrayal. No, the real reason he was indigent was because ”Those babies can walk. And drive! And all sorts of stuff! Hanging out in pods like that is just being lazy”

That certainly got him some befuddled stares from Minda and Edward at least, neither able to really handle the absurdity of this outburst (also, when it came down to it, knowing the names of the infants just made the entire situation worse).

”The sensor things look pretty heavy though” Rka suggested, but Jr just huffed and said ”If he can swing a baseball bat and get a home run he can handle a sensor thing” with a level of spite that made it pretty clear who’d been on the opposing team when that home run was hit

Edward coughed awkwardly in an attempt to put anything between that fever dream of a conversation and his own words, before saying ”Well. Given that without access to magic I will be of considerably less help, I suppose I could handle taking care of one of the young fellow’s… associates”

”Enemies” Jr clarified pointedly, earning him an ”I… See…” from Edward before he went on ”at any rate, my focusing entirely on the BT detection task will free up other less magic focused to handle the combat side of things, assuming there is even anything alive to fight alive in this wasteland”

”If there is, then it's good I’ve gotten better at stabbing things then, because I’d have been useless without magic before all my fusions” Minda commented, mostly because she had some tangentially relevant info/scheming to provide ”Speaking of: D is one of the Consuls of the Dead Zone, and I expect he won’t be happy about his energy source being wiped off of the map. He killed me in a past life when I was riding high on demonic power, annihilated an army I conjured effortlessly with his sorcery. Those magic suppression fields might let us turn the table on him, if we can get one and some physical fighters close to him” a notion she grinned with glee about.

There was nothing wrong with wanting a bit of revenge after all, at least as far as the princess was concerned.

With Jr refusing to carry things despite his own magic reliance, and Rika very much on the far end of the useful without magic end of the spectrum, that was all their contributions to the mission sorted out. Which meant it was time for breakfast, a most important meal both to fuel the mission and, for Edward, as a chance to meet and observe the very strange group of people he was now working with.

Edward Portsmith acquired himself some good old fashioned bangers and mash (admittedly the silver flecked with gold ginger was not a standard coloration of said meal) and did his best to avoid any wing related accidents as he sought out a seat. The new appendages were very much a thing he was debating on whether to keep or not after the nuisance they had been to sleep in.

They were also, as it turned out, awkward to sit in, which is why the man picked himself an empty table to avoid inflicting the process of trying to fit the flappers against the backrest comfortably without batting any neighbors with them. Sandalphon joined him soon after.

The King of Evil’s breakfast was a lot more modest than one might expect. Rather than a lavish feast like one would expect a royal to eat, his plate instead contained a simple omelet with chicken-sausage wrapped within, and a side of toasted bread with cheese on it. Even his choice of drink was a surprisingly humble mug of apple cider, albeit the mug was indeed of a size big enough to suit someone of his stature. Perhaps he was more of a drinker than an eater? Or maybe it was because the Gerudo hadn’t just come to the table to eat. He also had a handful of parchments placed out next to where his plate was sitting, and he himself appeared to be reading them over while he ate his meal.

”I believe you might be interested to see this.” Ganondorf said with a gesture toward Sandalphon followed by tapping the parchments on the table before pushing them across the table for her to read for herself. ”Communications between a bandit faction in the Sandswept Sky and Consul H.” He let the designation of the Consul inquisition hang in the air a bit due to the implications before adding the confirmation. ”The one who was supposed to have been killed, I believe? Well it seems he’s still alive after all.”

The archangel, who’d been making slow progress on her food so far despite the extra honey, seemed immediately attentive to the new intelligence. “H,” she repeated. “If memory serves, Dawn alluded to H when she met us in Ballyhoo’s Big Top following our games. She mentioned that the Avenger’s scanners detected the launch of a Bastion Fleet Carrier -possibly the same one that assaulted Alcamoth- in the vicinity of Zurvan Amp Station, a New Conglomerate base in the northern reaches of the eastern desert. We assumed the worst-case scenario, that H himself had mobilized it in response to the encounter with Z, but we could not confirm.” She nodded at Ganondorf. “This does confirm our suspicions, then. Both Consuls who attacked Alcamoth returned home unscathed.” After a moment, she tried to put a positive spin on her next statement. “At the very least, our sources indicate that L has ceased hostility following her defeat.”

Zenkichi, who himself had a plate with an omelet and rice, the former drizzled with a bit of ketchup, shook his head. ”Well, that's a shame. But given that they brought enough people to take down Alcamoth, I guess I can't say I'm too surprised. I'm just glad we got out of there before having to deal with another Consul fight. Three in one day was a few too many…” Between Y, C, and Z, Zenkichi could go the rest of his life without seeing a Consul and be happy about it.

“Good morning, detective,” Sandalphon took the time to say, though she did not go any more in depth into pleasantry than that. “Luckily, we have been moderately successful in minimizing contact with Moebius since then. Yesterday’s brief encounter with Consul Ɪ is the exception. With our comrades’ presence in Mafia Town discovered, their evacuation last night was timely.” Even in this state the archangel could talk non-stop if she wanted to, so she made a conscious effort to pipe down and make progress on her meal.

”I don’t suppose there is a glossary available which would let me brush up on half the terminology you just used? The information I’ve received has been rather grapeshot in nature” Edward asked after looking mildly bemused during the conversation that had just been had, making this request entirely straight face.

Upon hearing the request, Sandalphon’s pupils immediately changed to loading rings. “Just a moment.”

After acquiring their own plates of food (humble ones when compared to some of the other Seekers), the Orsterran duo moved to sit at what could reasonably be called the "quiet table." The make-up of the other three seemed to consist of the rowdier members of their group, and it didn't seem like the early hour was going to make any difference there. Primrose arrived first, gracefully taking a seat while she set her plate down. Before Therion got the chance, the table's last chair was snatched away by a witch. He blinked at the woman, then with a silent sigh dragged himself over to another table.

Hiding her amusement behind her coffee mug, Primrose took a long drink. The warmth spread through her, perking her up after the earlier meeting.

"Good morning," she greeted everyone, eyeing the documents Ganondorf had spread over a section of the table. Then she glanced at the gray-winged man, offering him a sympathetic smile. "I'm afraid not. To my knowledge anyway. Though creating an informational pamphlet has been discussed."

She paused to lift a cuberry to her mouth. Mm, it's good. "I'm sure someone has gone over the... more important things with you? Though if you were curious about anything else, I suppose before we leave would be the time to ask. Mr...?"

”Portsmith-” the man replied crisply, before adding ”Edward Portsmith to be exact.” and then tapping a finger on the table twice has he fought, before coming up with a question.

”I am aware of the broad strokes of the objective and the opposition, though these were delivered under battlefield conditions and such there was little fine detail involved” he explained, ”I am aware this is not exactly time for a detailed run down on the state of the war either, what with the impending deployment, so I’ll keep the purview of my question related to that”

That question turned out to be a very practical one, namely ”How, exactly, would you describe the threat level of these Consuls, Guardians, and this ‘Master Hand’?”

“They are all servants of Galeem in some way, but Guardians merely exist, while Consuls enforce its will, albeit without direct guidance. We know precious little about Master Hand, but out of all our foes it seems most akin to Galeem’s direct subordinate. Here, perhaps this will help.” As her processing came to an end, Sandalphon waved her left hand in front of her, summoning a two-dimensional screen of softly glowing yellow, like a tapestry woven in midair. At her bidding the screen collapsed, but after casting her hand at Edward it expanded in front of him within arm’s reach. Listed therein were dozens and dozens of terms, each with a plus sign that could be pressed to expand the section, which revealed a definition and links to related entries. The miraculous page even came with a search bar, which would automatically tap further into Sandalphon’s powers to create a keyboard.

“This is all the non-sensitive information I have about the key players in this conflict, including those you mentioned,” the archangel told Edward. “I regret that you cannot take it with you, but as long as we’re in proximity, this interface can be used to partake in what I know.” With that she returned her attention to her breakfast, her focus unnecessary.

Primrose hummed in appreciation. "You've been busy," she told the archangel. "Is this something you've been working on, or did you just create it now?"

Edward certainly considered it ”Fascinating” as he was immediately all over this wondrous creation. He tapped open a few terms, and then upon seeing the depth of information on offer, pulled out a small journal within which he began jotting key facts down.

Zenkichi hummed at Primrose’s comment, swallowing a spoonful of rice. Not sure about that one specifically, but busy doesn't even begin to describe it. She's been doing research nearly nonstop since we got picked up. " He stopped short of describing the state Sandalphon's overworking had put her in, but gave the archangel a small smile, commiserating in the plight of an overworked professional having to hunt down every little detail to put together intel. Somewhat surprised by his expression, Sandalphon couldn’t help but smile in return, which looked a little silly with a full mouth.

”Then again, the kids and I took down J over in Shibuya, so…can't exactly say I took it easy, myself." That comment was more for the sake of Edward and Ganondorf, to help keep them up to speed on that front. His earlier melancholy about how that venture ended had mostly abated, but to say it vanished would be inaccurate, and a slight pull at his features betrayed it.

The dancer's gaze flickered over to Sandalphon. She seemed better today, but last night when she'd come to greet the Seekers at Meridi-at-Han she did have a weary look to her. It was hard to say for sure of course, given that Primrose still wasn't very familiar with the other woman. Primrose then glanced back at Zenkichi and the lines drawn by the expression on the older man's face.

"Hmm. Don't over do it, we've still got a long road ahead of us," she said. She lifted her drink to her lips again, adding to herself, and a time limit to walk it.

“Nevertheless, we cannot afford to waste any of the precious days we’re given,” Sandalphon pronounced, her pupils stress marks. “For any of us, tomorrow could be our last.” Her grave sentiment seemed to echo Primrose’s unspoken addendum, though one could not in good faith call that accidental. When the archangel looked over at the dancer, however, her eyes were back to normal. As normal as hers could ever be, anyway. “To answer your question, it’s all stored up here.” She extended a slender finger to tap her temple, her pupils shifting through a dozen symbols in the span of a second. “It takes some time to sift through and make presentable, but I can recollect and redistribute anything I’ve learned. 9S once called it a ‘photographic memory’, though if you’re anything like I was, you likely lack the context to give that phrase meaning.”

"You're right," Primrose admitted easily. "Though I've learned a few things. I think I get it." It was an impressive skill, superior to even the most learned scholars.

”and I look forward to learning them” Edward commented over the sound of a quill quietly scribbling across the pages. Notably it was not the one he had started with, as the man had harvested one of his own new feathers to keep writing when the old one broke. The ink meanwhile flowed endlessly, painting characters in hues of steel as it engraved the knowledge in sorcerous scripture.

His food sat mostly untouched as a result.

”As for time, it is certainly a fine line to walk. Particularly as overexertion can be just the invitation your end is waiting for” he added, before pausing his writing looking up at Sandalphon and saying ”So while I appreciate this greatly” referring to the terminal ”please do not see my enthusiasm for this wondrous technology as motivation for more overwork. I have plenty of other research material to fill my time with”

By this time, Ganondorf had read all he wanted to on the parchments and stacked them back together so they would take up less room on the table as more began to gather there. That and he wanted to finish his meal before it got too cold. So he began cutting bites out of his omelet and taking occasional swigs from his rustic mug of cider. ”I kept my own interactions with Moebius to a minimum as well.” He reported in case anyone was curious about it. ”But I did fight a war against one of their proxies. A faction of bandits with little to no leadership structure, except for one man who called himself their king. They had numbers, but not much else beyond that. Defeating them was practically child’s play.”

Sandalphon wondered what purpose that served, given the World of Light’s cyclical system of slaughter and repopulation, but she did not do so aloud. No good would come of courting conflict with Ganondorf, after all. His aura of darkness, so much like a demon’s, still made her reluctant to interact with him at all, so she opted to spare them both unnecessary conversation. Of course, with everyone’s attention split between their meals and Sandalphon’s study material, the archangel’s silence contributed to the conversation at her table trailing off. She and her comrades had a lot to think about, after all, and not much time before their mission began. Once the Seekers burst back onto the scene from their week-long hiatus, anything could happen.

Having been fairly quick to get to the head of the queue, by virtue of feeling no shame in making a run for it, the Koopa Kids got to make their choice of table. They picked an empty one, foolishly thinking that they’d get to keep it, but that would not last.

A plate full of sausage and eggs was set down and quickly stuck into by jr, while the lone pogofruit that had been forcibly added to the plate was sternly ignored. His second plate was meanwhile full of fruit, which was for his motley crew of minions. In a great contrast to her brother Rika had gotten an omelet with every weird vegetable in it, alongside having prompted the creation of, and then received the first portion of, a wonderfully odd fruit salad, both of which she began taste testing to see what all the new foods were like.

Thanks to the boon of poultry that the kitchen had at the moment, Pit was about to enjoy the amazing combination of fried chicken and waffles. Doused in sweet maple syrup, with a few of the chicken sausages and a veggie omelet on the side, he had a full breakfast awaiting him to dig in. And an apple juice to go with it. Despite often saying he was not a kid even if his appearance was youthful, Pit did usually seem to gravitate toward the younger Seekers. Like in mind, perhaps. So it didn't come as a surprise that he ended up at the third table. His wings were drawn up close to his back so that he didn't take up much more space than usual, and he didn't waste any time before starting to eat.

After privately seeking counsel with Lady Palutena, he felt a little better about the whole BB situation. He had to wonder how Junior felt about it though. Was he really fine with it besides just the fact he thought the babies were being lazy? And they really let babies drive go-karts? Babies and Link get to race and I still can't get an invite? Before he could think to ask, a noise cut through even the din of the mess hall.

A loud screech announced the Witch as she noisily dragged an extra chair up from Sandalphon’s table to the kids’, completely ignoring the seats already in place. She’d brought with her a portion of fish—specifically, an entire eight inch long dead fish, which lay flat on its plate alongside a mound of spinach and stared out at the world with cold, empty eyes.

Shortly after, Edelgard arrived with a picture-perfect breakfast consisting of assorted fruits, nuts, smoked meats, and a pair of eggs over easy. She sat and, the picture of noble grace, began to cut into and eat tiny, easily-consumed portions of each food, savoring the breadth of choices the Avenger had to offer. The morning's briefing lay heavy on her thoughts, especially the idea that any one of them being grabbed by these invisible foes would spell the entire group's immediate demise. She’d take Rhea again over that horror. As she took her seat, Pit shot her a smile. They'd missed her (and Edward and Midna) back at Palutena's Temple as the goddess and her army commended the commanders; he'd have to fill her in sometime.

Humming happily to herself, the Witch sliced the fish open lengthwise and began to pick out the bones. Her gaze eventually found Junior, however, whom she regarded with not a little curiosity. “Now what kind of thing are you? I didn’t think dragons were actually real.”

Oh, one of the new people? The angel had seen a few new faces at the meeting, but he hadn't given any of them more than a passing glance at the time. Inching away slightly from the woman's wide, dead-eyed fish plate, Pit left explaining what a Koopa was to the actual Koopa and instead let the Witch in on a universal truth.

"Everything's kinda real," he said casually, "even if it's in a different world from yours. Cool, right?"

”No.” Juri answered bluntly, on the Witch’s behalf. ”At least not when it’s the eleventy billionth time we’ve had the conversation.” For Juri it was more like three, counting this time. But they were on the Avenger, for crying out loud, who wasn’t with the program already?

Juri didn’t seem to have any mind for breakfast at the moment, instead she dropped her tommy gun on the table, and then leaned over it at Junior. ”I wanna see if you really are some kinda genius turtle, or just a regular dumb kid. You said you can make my gun shoot flaming bullets?” Juri asked.

”You’re not gonna eat?” Came the voice of Roxas sitting down more or less next to Pit, but his question was directed at the spider lady. ”I would if I were you. There’s no telling when we’ll get to eat next once the mission starts.” He sat his own breakfast onto the table, a plate containing a stack of three pancakes drizzled with syrup and topped with minced cuberries and a glass of pogofruit juice to drink. He’d gotten here a little later than some of the others mostly because of his three Pokemon nearby who were digging into their own meal consisting of nutritious Pokemon food. Clearly the Nobody was making sure he got them their food before he secured his own.

Jr, who had somehow been taught to not speak with his mouth full, but not to not shove his mouth full of food, had taken a while to clear up his tongue so it could be used to reply to the questions.

”I’m a Koopa, not a dragon, which is way better!” he first insisted, before reaching for his chest and tossing out a trio of pokeballs while explaining that ”and Mimi, Dazzle and Peeka are all part ghost” as he did so. The mon then promptly grabbed fruit he offered them and hurried off to join the others, Rika added that ”and I’m part ship”

The ship girl also had a mind to ask Juri ”How can you just, like, not try out this neat food? It’s all real weird” which in her mind was very much a compliment.

Juri made a defensive hand gesture at Rika and Roxas. ”You wanna get the hell off my back? I eat when I want. Right now I wanna see if dragon boy can really make my gun better.”

”Sheesh. Excuse me for living.” Roxas muttered. It was just a suggestion, not worth getting his head bitten off for it.

Pit suppressed a snicker, then leaned over to quietly tell Roxas, "Juri just pretends to be a sourpuss." He really didn't know the woman too well, but since she'd played minigames with them and seemed to actually want to be part of the group despite the attitude, he figured that she just wanted to make sure people knew she was tough. Then again, he hadn't been on the receiving end of said attitude yet, so his opinion could still change.

”Also yeah I can for sure do that! Easy!” Jr then replied to Juri as well as he grabbed the gun, and set about doing some on-the-table tinkering, snapping open a toolbox to do so. The modification was, as it turned out, pretty simple, as the prince removed the gun's magazine, and then into the slot below the chamber carefully inserted a hair from his magical paintbrush which would coat the tips of the rounds being pulled past it with burning ink as they were pulled past it.

”Probably won’t work while we’re in that magic suppression field, but after, you’ll be burning things up!” he informed her, a little annoyed that his work wasn’t going to be useful right away, before having an idea and asking ”Hey, do you want an even bigger gun for that bit? Got this crank operated thing that’s thiiiis big if you want it” as he spread his arms to denote the length of the Maulcher rotary gatling gun that he had strapped to his clown car at the moment.

Juri tilted her head, looking at her gun. Grabbing it by the back end she looked right down the barrel, taking in the now almost imperceptible adjustment made to it. ”That’s it?” She wasn’t sure what she expected. ”I coulda done that. I thought you were gonna hit it with a hammer or something.”

”On the contrary, Edelgard interjected. ”What may seem simple to those without the gift of magic or artifice is often the result of years of study to simplify an incredibly complex process.” A bit put-off that the many months she'd spent learning magic, and the years after refining that process, could be so thoughtlessly deemed ‘too simple’ was simply galling to the empress. She did her best to keep the derision she felt for Juri out of her voice, but such a monumental task was impossible even for somebody of Edelgard’s willpower. Juri was just that annoying.

Juri then reached her hand into Rika’s fruit salad, scooped up a bunch of it, and shoved it into her mouth. Dusting her hands off she looked at Roxas and Rika as if to say: ‘Happy?’ Then she kneeled one knee on the seat next to Junior, not quite sitting down. ”Nah. That’d just slow me down. We gotta be quiet if we wanna protect our creepy fetus machines from the antimatter ghosts.” Juri said. She glanced around, slung her gun over her shoulder, and promptly stood back up and buzzed off to the breakfast line.

”Well that was rude.” Roxas muttered under his breath. She didn’t ask permission or anything. And who knows if she washed her hands or not. He probably should have confronted her or something, but also thought it wasn’t worth picking a fight over. So instead he slid his plate in Rika’s direction. ”You can have some off the top of my pancakes if you want.” Essentially offering to let her replace some of the fruit Juri took.

A well made offer, which prompted the lengthy spear with a set of cannons at its base that had just teleported into Rika’s hand to be dropped in favor of a fork with which she could spear the peace offering alongside an ”ooo thank you thank you”

The Witch had been watching with eerie intensity while Junior disassembled the gun. She’d read up on killing machines like this on her telephone device, but to see its inner workings displayed so clearly before her… “Ingenious,” she whispered. And then, louder: “I’d like a big gun.” She met Junior’s eyes. “If you have one to spare anyway…”

”Huh?” the prince replied, seemingly a little confused by the request, though not at all put off by the spooky gal’s eye contact it seemed. Instead he started by unintentionally insulting her ”The Multcher’s probably too heavy for you” before asking the question that had caused his confusion ”Wait, who are you again?”

His sister meanwhile was entirely chipper again thanks to pancakes, and so said ”Oh are you new? Hi, I’m Rika!” before offering actual useful information by telling the Witch that ”The Avenger’s got an armory with all sorts of stuff in it. Probably got a couple of cannons in there. I think there was this energy blasting pistol? Oh and a shotgun that fired snakes.”

“I only showed up yesterday. I’m still adjusting to this place.” It was as much an excuse as an explanation, a way of playing off her behavior and curiosity. “As for who I am… Most people just call me Witch.” If her experiences so far were any indication, they’d probably start coming up with awful pet names for her right about now, and she could do little but grin and bear it.

It wasn’t all bad news, though. “A gun that fires serpents, you say? That sounds nearly too perfect to be true.” She leaned in closer to Rika, trying her best not to smile too creepily for once. “Would you help me find it before we go?

"Snakes? Why wouldn't you want one that shoots lasers or something? It would be way stronger," Pit chimed in as he polished off the last of his waffle.

“What a bold chicken you are! But no, I think I’ll stick with the snakes.” A laser-light could burn you once, but an angered serpent would strike time and time again, with noxious venom in its fangs. The Witch knew well which of the two she feared more.

"Wha- how come he gets to be a dragon but I'm a chicken?" came the complaint, along with a bark of a laugh from the (not) dragon in question.

Rika meanwhile just nodded, confirming that ”Mmm. Or. at leasts that it looked like it did? The monster it came from was really weird and just, full of snakes” Rika confirmed, smiling back with the social graces of someone who’d only learned she could do so a few weeks ago, which in this case meant very enthusiastically.

”and yeah, we can do that. We were probably gonna swing by after crushing a pair of spirits, coz I don’t think a weird sausage man and a really really really big crab are gonna make stuff we can really use. Maybe. Probably” she informed the Witch, before recalling how manners worked and adding ”Oh, and my name’s Rika. I picked it myself” to introduce herself.

With his pancakes gone now, Roxas just focused on his orange juice instead. He listened to some of the conversation about guns shooting different things but most importantly getting a proper introduction from Witch. ”I’m Roxas.” He said after swallowing down a big gulp of orange juice. ”I think I’ve been around for about… two weeks? Give or take a day or two?” After this he felt some nudging against his shin and looked down to find Scamp looking like he was trying to climb up. ”What? You want to meet everyone too or are you just looking for a chance to sneak a bite?” Roxas teased, but picked up the Yamper anyway and sat him on his lap before adding, ”Alright, alright, but I’m watching you, buddy.”

”Sorry about that, he’s Scamp, my Pokemon partner. He doesn’t bite but he likes to get up to mischief if I don’t keep an eye on him.”

Seeing that now seemed to be the time for introductions, Edelgard joined the round. ”I am Edelgard von Hresvelg. This is all…very different to me, I must admit. Before…whatever happened, I was an emperor. Now I am without a home, and all I know is that this Galeem creature is responsible.” Edelgard had stopped eating, setting her silverware down and crossing her hands atop one another as she spoke, her tone even and somber.

”Yeah?” Jr replied, misinterpreting this as an attempt as boast before laying out the smorgasbord of royals the seekers had among them ”Well our Papa’s the Koopa King, Sectonia a queen, Ganodorf’s the ‘King of Evil’” the prince paused his pointing to put air quotes around the gerudo's name ” and Midna over there’s a princess. But like one of those ruling princesses like Peach or Zelda, you know? Also she hates Ganondorf’s guts or something I dunno.”

Names, names, names. People put too much value in their names, and the Witch found it hard to really care. She preferred the dead, who didn’t talk so much and mostly didn’t care about what they were called. Maybe she’d get lucky and all these people would die in the upcoming mission, leaving her free to raise them all up as obedient and convenient servants.

Her expression remained eerily blank, but she did at least respond to them all with a small nod. “What a delight,” she said, without emotion no inflection, “it is to meet you all.”

She’d better hurry and prove herself indispensable before they all got better acquainted with her.

”And to meet you too!” Rika replied cherrily, not at all picking up on the meaning behind this lack of emotion, before asking ”Do you wanna head out now to get that gun? I’m basically done,” almost guaranteeing they were about to get at least a bit better acquainted.

While the Seekers picking up more people increased the group's strength and overall options, it also meant more mouths to feed. There were plenty of big eaters among the group already, but not many could pack it away quite like a monster hunter. Ace's metabolism worked on overdrive, and he had a large appetite on top of that - but even so he was good-natured enough to wait near the end of the food line and not wipe out the entire buffet when he got up there. He did still end up with two almost-overflowing plates for himself and a mug of coffee with plans for seconds afterward if he could get away with it, but hey, a man needed to eat.

Thankfully after the waiting his preferred seat was still open, though whether it just ended up that way or it was saved for him was unknown. Ace took a spot beside Nadia at the first table, unabashedly close to her. Considering how well last night had gone, he also opened with an equally shameless pun.

"Good morning brewtiful," he said with a sip of his coffee, so while it could be argued he was addressing the drink itself it was pretty obvious who the line was directed toward since his eye hardly left her face. "After all this time it feels kind of weird to finally be hashing out the Dead Zone, huh?"

When Ace placed himself behind her, Nadia pushed into him with unabashed immediacy, first her hip and then her shoulder pushed against his with jocular roughness. Just the sight of that goofy grin of his was enough to make her forget all about the ominous (and, given the ‘equipment’ they’d been prescribed, perhaps morally questionable) task ahead of them. Unlike Primrose she hadn’t remembered that the BBs were stuck as they were for their limited lifespans, just like everyone else, so the feral was happy to push those thoughts aside for the time being. With one food-based pun delivered already, the game was officially on, so she reached for the most normal-looking vegetable on her plate, which she’d filled with a little of everything. “Good meowning yourself, carrot top.” Crunch. That excited, electric tingle was tickling her again. Others would be headed over soon, so she’d only have Ace to herself for a few moments, but any amount of time made Nadia happy.

Of course, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, and the feral’s destination did way on her mind. “Didn’t mind putting it off, actually,” she admitted. “Zombies, ghost, parasites, literal demons…it was basically hell on earth. But that police station’s where I met the Seekers, so even if it was rough road gettin’ here, I ain’t gonna complain.” As she munched on a juicy pogofruit, she reminisce on the crypt where the Red Team fought the Skullgirl, Marie. The Skull Heart had been hers for the taking, but she’d made that same realization just in time–that as bad as things sometimes were, she wouldn’t want to change the events that made her who she was. By the time Nadia wolfed down her pogofruit, her fingers were covered in juice, so she licked them like a grooming cat, a playful grin on her face. “So whatever’s down there, I won’t be a-fur-aid!”

Ace couldn't say he was thrilled with going to such a place either, but once they got it out of the way they'd be that much closer to their ultimate goal, and hopefully they wouldn't have to deal with many undead afterwards. He was pressed thigh to shoulder with Nadia already, but he leaned a little closer ready to deliver some line about there being nothing to worry about if she stuck close to him, though at that point their table began to fill with other hungry would-be world savers.

”Oh? So the name of the area is literal then? Good to know.” Roland said, coming out of nowhere with a plate of various meats with dry spices on them and a cup of coffee. ”Just don’t raise any death flags by flirting a bunch while we’re down there now you two.” Roland said, making a bit of humor about how the two were acting towards each other, completely unaware of how true his statement actually was. He took a sip of his coffee, grimacing after he took a sip. ”Yep… Chesed ruined my taste for normal coffee alright…” he said in a lower tone of voice, clearly displeased.

Nadia raised an eyebrow at him, initially at how he knew she and Ace were an item, but then at his next statement. “Chesed?”

”One of the people I used to work with. Prim, proper, a bit too kind for his own good, and a coffee gourmand. Or I suppose ‘fanatic’ is more accurate. Made me try all types of exotic coffees and now plain coffee just doesn’t taste the same.” Roland said, grabbing a spicy sausage and taking a bite.

The feral shrugged, then took a sip of juice. “If you say so. I’m not much of a coff-feline.”

While the stranger chatted, Ace used the time to finish off his first plate of food (a collective of just about everything on offer, he wasn't picky) and move on to the second. He wasn't really embarrassed at being caught flirting, and it sounded like this guy didn't seem to mind, but it did make the hunter wonder if he should be more mindful in the public spaces... Nah, he decided simply. At least not until someone brought it up as an issue.

"Yeah, types of coffees really don't mocha much difference to me," he said. Although he did enjoy a strong cup. He set his own mug down and then reached a hand over the table towards the man. "We haven't met yet, right? I'm–" There was the briefest moment of hesitation as he decided whether to go with his title or his common nickname, something that always seemed to come up and he should really make up his mind about. "–Ace."

”Roland.” Roland said. He’d mention his fixer rank, but that really didn’t mean much anymore. ”Just make sure you guys don’t make any pawful puns. I got a feline Ms. Kitty here is used to them though.” Roland said, deciding to join in on the pun wars a bit. It looked like fun, or at least a bit amusing.

The hunter grinned. "Yolk's on you, our puns are oat-standing."
“Springing that a-pun us?” Nadia raised an eyebrow at Roland, tapping her plate with a nail. “Buddy, dishes not gonna end well.”

“I immediately regret coming over here.” Geralt deadpanned as he came upon the punning group of Seekers, but flashed Ace a half-smile and an appraising nod. “Good to see you back, Ace. I didn't end up with that one,” he said, gesturing to Nadia, “but I'm sure she was beside herself with worry. Literally.” He added, a smirk pointing out the flimsy pun.

"It's good to be back!" the hunter said, turning his grin toward Geralt. "Feels like it's been way too long since I've seen everyone. And this ship? So Gargwawesome."

The Witcher's mention of Nadia worrying over him changed Ace's smile from a wide friendly one to the slightly sappier one of a man clearly smitten. "Yeah, so she told me yesterday. I don't plan on us splitting up again anytime soon." he said, glancing at Nadia and giving her a playful nudge. Given her fighting style he added, "Well, me at least."

Halfway through a mouthful of food, Nadia snorted with laughter.

Roland gave an internal sigh of relief at Geralt showing up. He was sorta out of puns to reply with at that time and appreciated the distraction. ”Oh? So the pun twins have just gotten back together? What's that all about?” He said, diverting the conversation away from a pun-off as he ate another sausage.

The monster hunter leaned back in his seat as he addressed Roland's question, jabbing a thumb at his armored chest. "I haven't been around in a while, got stuck up north - long story. But I've been fighting alongside these guys for a while! Geralt and I fought through the Land of Adventure way back when, and together with Nadia when we had to cross an ocean." Geralt just gave a nod in concurrence, his mouth full of sausage at the moment.

Therion had slunk over to the table at some point before Roland started enabling the punsters. He'd gotten used to Ms. Fortune's linguistic antics, but now there was two of her. And it had barely been more than an hour since they'd woken up. After losing his seat at his first choice of tables, it kinda felt like he'd been banished to this one the longer they went on. Thankfully Geralt had interceded, leading to as much of a break as the table could hope for.

It doesn't stop even first thing in the morning, huh? Therion thought to himself. He didn't care enough to voice his complaint, despite the way his ears were lowered like he couldn't stand to hear anymore. He didn't even comment on Ms. Fortune and the redhead sitting like they wanted to meld into one person, besides raising an eyebrow at his fellow thief. This was him being social. He could have ferreted away his food and gone off somewhere.

And now that Ace mentioned it, Therion did sort of remember him. He chewed through the apple slice he'd been eating then spoke up for the first time that morning. "You were in Twilight Town with us, right? Got split up when the cats attacked us?"

Ace blinked as if noticing Therion for the first time. His eyes flickered over the thief's light armor and then he gave the guy a nod. "Yup. It was a real pain in the Astalos at first, but we figured it out. And you're..."

"Therion," he reminded the hunter, going back to picking at his platter of fruit and eggs.

"Oh, right. I didn't remember mew being part felyne," Ace said, now putting a face to the opinion Nadia had let him in on. He got a shrug in response - looks completely changing just happened in this world after all.

After chomping into a prickle pear and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Nadia jumped back into the conversation with a nod. “Oh yeah, he got kitted out while we were workin’ through those caves. Got into some purr-etty serious fights, but our fightin’ styles worked well together. And now we’re thick as thieves, huh?” That said, she didn’t want to push her luck too far. Despite Roland’s cheerful enablement, she knew that neither Geralt nor Therion shared her sense of humor. Her jokes were meant to lighten things up, so if they wound up annoying, the feral had missed the mark. Still…it wasn’t her fault that the puns came so naturally!

Thankfully Therion already considered her if not a friend, then at least a close comrade, so it would take a little more than mildly obnoxious wordplay to set him off. As for her latest pun though, Therion pressed his tongue to the top of his mouth to stop even a ghost of a laugh from escaping, though his lips did twitch upward slightly. He then rolled his eyes at her, not in annoyance but rather as a way of saying alright, I'll give you that one.

As she bit off half a sausage, Nadia glanced over at a neighboring table. It seemed like Juri was making a scene already, first waving around a hefty gun, then picking on the kids, and the sight of it made the catgirl’s eyes narrow. But Juri wasn’t her problem anymore. If she overstepped, the people she underestimated could knock her on her ass; Nadia didn’t have to play sheriff. Seeing Junior did remind her of what her long ears overheard during the briefing, though. He’d hailed one of the babies -or BBs, as Sandalphon called them- as Peach, and while Nadia got only a brief glimpse, the resemblance was too great to ignore. According to the others, Peach had died, only to live again as Moebius P. After everything she and Nadia had been through so far, how could that be anything but a betrayal? It got her thinking, though. If Peach still lived as P, but Peach existed here as a baby, that meant that there could be two of the same person. The possibility of meeting herself out there was a scary thought, and it got her gears turning to such an extent that for a few moments, Nadia was actually pretty quiet.

Starting on his bacon and eggs, Roland noticed that they were all talking about their previous adventures. Being a newcomer Roland really only had stories of Midgar, but he did have a lot of fixer stories as well. Maybe he’d retell some of them. ”Well, you two didn’t really get to see Midgar. According to your friends that went there, it was in a really bad shape. But I thought it was pretty alright. The Ever Crisis was a problem though, and I didn’t think following a lead to try to get rid of it, and following Consul C would lead to all this though. Nor that it’d lead to Shinra and Armstrong dying. Wonder if they got that city back up and running in the past week.” Roland said, trying to join the conversation himself.

“Not sure about the city itself, but Karin and Sakura managed to get a pretty serious group of folk together at that Satisfactory, and get it up and running.” Geralt mentioned, thinking back to the few days he'd spent there. “Ended up heading down there with Yen, my wife, and we found Ciri. She was alright.” The relief Geralt felt was uncharacteristically evident on his face as he mentioned having found his daughter, though he didn't speak a word of it. “They've got a lot of work ahead of them, but those four have got a lot going for themselves, too.”

Hearing about Geralt’s family -not a common conversational subject- made Nadia smile. She could only imagine how it would feel to finally find the people she cared about most somewhere in this messed-up world, and know that despite everything, they were safe and sound.

”Well if they took my advice Binah should help get everything up and running quickly. She might be lazy, but she's efficient. Although If I remember right one of them was a bleeding heart and I think if they saw Binah fight they’d regret asking for her help… huh.” Roland said, remembering what he told them before he left the city. ”We can check in next time we’re flying over there.”

"I'd like that. It'd be good to get a chance to say hi," Ace said. He'd learned a little of what had happened in Midgar, but nowhere near the full story, so the names and terms went right over his head. Still, hearing that Geralt had reunited with his daughter was great news. It reminded him of another piece of news he should let the Witcher in on since he wasn't sure how much of what had happened in Edinburgh had been told to the others - if anything at all.

"By the way, you'll never guess who we ran into while we were stuck in the Highlands," he began, launching into an abridged version of the events surrounding Linkle's reappearance. Since Roland and Therion had never met the heroine and Nadia had heard it all last night, the short story was pretty much just for Geralt's benefit. Therion didn't tune out exactly, he absorbed the information like he did all mealtime gossip, but he also didn't question or add anything as the two hunters went over it. All the while he spoke, Ace gently pressed his leg against Nadia's under the table, intending on picking her brain afterward. At the moment he was just eager to connect with everyone now that he was back.

“No kidding.” Geralt hummed, pitching in with a bit of his own commentary throughout Ace's story. Not enough to distract, just enough to show that he was listening. Between Ace and Linkle, the story involved two people he'd grown to appreciate the company of here in the World of Light. He just hoped Linkle would be okay.

As she listened to the tale for the second time, Nadia pressed Ace right back. She’d been so tired last night -and so focused on the hunter himself- that not everything he told her sunk in, but now she could really connect the dots. Back in the sepulchral ruins beneath the Dead Zone library, exposed to the half-light of overcast day by the wild battle against Bloody Marie, she’d been terrifyingly close to becoming the Skullgirl herself. If she’d been even a little bit more tempted, it could have been her possessed by the Skull Heart and deported to the Frozen Highlands, and unlike this Linkle girl she was no hero. As much as she liked Ace, becoming the Skullgirl would not have been worth spending more time with him up there in Edinburgh. Just the thought of how close she came to her own ruination made Nadia shudder, though she focused on the remainder of her meal.

All too soon, the last bite disappeared with a loud crunch, its note of finality unmistakable. Around her, the noisy mess hall seemed a bit quieter than before. Breakfast was coming to an end, and the Seekers’ appointed hour in the Dead Zone was closing in. With a sigh, the feral rose to her feet. Her hand perched for a moment on Ace’s shoulder as her tail flicked back and forth. “Welp, that was eggcellent, but I’m full. Gonna go limber up. Maybe drop by the armory, see what’s there. Anyone else done?” she asked, offering to take their plates along with hers to the dropoff bin. It went unsaid that if Ace had business with her, he could join her on her trip.

Roland would’ve preferred a more flavorful display of food personally, but he finished his spiced breakfast soon after. He really had nothing to comment about this skull heart or anything as he had no idea what that was or the people involved and only listened while he ate. ”Take mine if you're offering. I’ll probably see what's in the armory as well. I could use more varied weapons.” Roland said, offering up his empty platter. A funny thing to say, considering he had the most weapons out of everyone here from his base kit.

Midna acquired a plate consisting of an odd onion omelet, some carrot sticks, and a Mint mango. Oh and also 3 plates of nothing but sausages. With these in (four) hand(s) she set about finding a spot to sit, her dark orange eyes scanning the room till she decided on touching base with a familiar fellow.

”Good morning Goldlewis, mind if I join you and…” Minda asked politely after she strode up to the table of the Secretary of Defense and his insectoid seating companion, trailing off in such a way as to invite the name the latter to be offered to her.

When choosing a table, the veteran had come equipped with not one but two plates. If the first platter, with its ample portions of diced, southwest-seasoned, skillet-fried oca oca spuds accompanied by chicken sausages, sliced prickle pears, and fresh cuberries might have implied a balanced breakfast, the second one piled high with oniony scrambled eggs shattered that illusion. It took a lot of food, and especially protein, to sustain a physique like his after all. That was why Midna’s arrival with twice as many meat-laden plates took him by surprise, but after remembering her many familiars, Goldlewis reasoned that the extra chow must be for them. At least, he hoped so…

“Howdy there missie, go right ahead,” he told her, answering on Grimm’s behalf as his senior. Midna’s question, though, made him realize something important about the unusual insect: that he’d never provided his name. Whenever he came up in hushed rumors along the narrow streets of Meridi-at-han, the tale-spinners agreed that the master of the Grimm Troupe must share its name. Maybe he was overthinking, but he couldn’t be so sure. Then again, following those whisperers’ example right in front of the bug might provoke a correction to clear the air once and for all. “This here’s Grimm. Ringleader of a travelin’ bug circus.”

The Troupe Master merely bowed his head in acknowledgement. ”A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” With all those limbs, after all, Midna wasn’t too far gone from a bug herself. Grimm tossed a sausage to the floated Grimmchild, then lifted one to his mouthless, masklike face. It split open along an invisible seam, scarlet fire shining from within like a furnace flame, and after Grimm flicked the morsel into the inferno his maw closed again, all but disappearing.

It was safe to say Midna was a touch taken aback by that, the princess blinking a few times as if trying to properly process what she had just seen, before attempting a smooth recovery.

”Neat trick. Can you teach me how to do that? Would make taking a drink in a quiet moment in a fight much easier” she said as she sat herself down (giving Goldlewis a nod of thanks as she did so) before setting down her plates and then removing said helmet that she had been wearing this whole time. Her armor was stored somewhere, but the corrupting artifact stayed with her the whole time, and in this case was set in her lap.

”Midna, princess of twilight. Nice to meet you too” she then introduced herself in turn, before also engaging in feeding sausages to minion (as Goldlewis had predicted) in this case via using fake magical limbs to offer them to a portal out of which wolf-ish and dragon-ish snouts snapped. She did not trust them to not wreck the plates, and it would simply be indigent for the royal serving things to drop their food on the floor.

Sectonia took a bit to grab her food, as while she could eat meat, she’d much rather prefer sweets and fruits. Thankfully with another fan of honey aboard the avenger and that person being one of the people who managed all the food stuffs, honey was in good supply. Fruits however were a bit trickier to grab, and sweets were pretty barren. She’d need to fix that… perhaps something in that village of candy could make infinite sweets if they went back there?

Looking for a table to eat at, she decided to join Midna, Grimm, and Goldlewis. More so because Grimm was a new bug with a bit of flair to him and her familiarity with Midna. Since she just floated, she floated over a part of the table. She only caught the tail end of their conversation, but it was clearly introductions. ”I’m Queen Sectonia. No relation to Midna, although we have similar views on statecraft.” Sectonia said. ”Although her view of aesthetics needs a bit of work.”

While Grimm made no reply to either Midna (whose question he did not understand) or to the newcomer, Sectonia’s remarkable size (especially compared to his own) left him momentarily blindsided. While he did not flinch away, the Grimmchild did seem afraid, and hid from the big, brightly-colored bug behind its father. Rather than reassure it, though, the Troupe Master stared at Sectonia a moment longer. His red-hot gaze saw something in her that he despised, antithetical to everything that made him who he was. When he realized that this aspect of Sectonia was merely borrowed and not her own, however, his intense look subsided, and Grimm turned to try and coax his child out with a sausage.

It took an extra couple minutes for Captain Falcon to show up in the common room with his breakfast in tow. Not because he wasn’t a morning person. Quite the opposite, in fact, as Cap had arisen a good couple of hours before anyone else on the ship did in order to do some morning workouts. No, the only reason he was a latecomer to the breakfast table was because he was very particular about his food, wanting it to be just right in a “you can’t rush perfection” kind of way.

As such, the bounty hunter brought a full tray with him. It contained two plates - one holding a beautifully crafted southwestern omelet with jalapenos and sausage topped with a strong smelling salsa, and the other a side dish of classic flaky biscuit topped with creamy white gravy - as well as two drinks, a cup of coffee - black - and a glass of milk. ”Nothing beats the classics.” He said aloud to nobody in particular, then sniffed the air a bit before shooting a look at Goldlewis, ”Is that oca oca spuds I smell, Mr. Secretary? Guess I’m not the only one around here with a taste for the spicy, eh?”

“Mm-hm.” Goldlewis nodded in approval at the racer’s hearty food choice. “Them oca-ocas ain’t exactly like potatoes, but I reckon they’re close enough. Close enough for government work, as they say.” The big man chuckled as he lifted up another forkful of scrambled eggs. “There’s no tellin’ when and where the Lost Numbers can get supplies, so we don’t got the luxury of bein’ picky. If ya like ‘em, enjoy ‘em while they last.” As he chewed, he narrowed his eyes at Falcon, studying him. “Lemme think…you were with us last week in Carnival Town, but if I’m rememberin’ right, you weren’t with the Under team, were ya?” He cracked a grin at the Captain that he shared with Grimm. “Seems like wherever we go, we end up findin’ new folks willin’ to go the distance. Today’s gonna be your first time doin’ what we really do. Stick close to me, an’ I’ll see y’all home safe.”

”Ah, no. I’d been racing in Carnival Town for a couple days when you all showed up. It was just a stroke of luck that Pit, Bowser, and Ganondorf were among you. Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have been brought in.” Cap said back to the veteran. After a couple bites from his omelet, the bounty hunter gulped some milk from his glass to settle the spice down a bit before taking a sip from his coffee mug. ”Mmm, word of the wise to anyone looking to try spicy dishes: drink milk instead of water. Water has a way of making the spice even worse, in fact.”

”Speaking of food stock, I'm aware of a few places to get quite a few supplies. Assuming the Lost Numbers don’t mind some manual labor. Such as a land made of candy.” Sectonia said, remembering a place she had visited before. With such a large ship able to move through the world at a decent pace, she’d prefer them to make a stop there. She had quite the dangerous sweet tooth, although she got the feeling none of the others really did.

”Land of candy?” Falcon repeated with a look of intrigue. ”Now that sounds like a mouthful of painful cavities waiting to happen.” He said with a hearty chuckle. ”What the stockpile really needs is some good tripe, preferably beef but any is good. Bound up in a thread, it makes a tasty delicacy that’ll boost your perseverance and resilience. You can even wrap it around some veggies or other forms of stuffing, like a dumpling. Good stuff!”

The prospect left Goldlewis dubious. “Candy? Tripe? We ain’t got time to make trips for junk food and delicacies.” He swept his arm around the Mess Hall. “Y’all can see how much chow it takes to feed an army, and the Lost Numbers ain’t even eaten yet. Every supply run’s gotta count.” After a moment, he shrugged and went for another forkful of eggs. “But, if ya do think of somethin’, run it by Sandalphon. I hear she’s workin’ to map out supply routes.”

”What can you do anyway…. Grimm?” Sectonia said, trying to recall the strange word she heard at the tail end of their introductions. ”I have magic that rivals the gods, for example.” Sectonia said, referring to her normal power, but now boosted by the guardian she absorbed. Something that Grimm could sense within her, but Sectonia wasn’t entirely sure of the connection between the two.

The Troupe Master finished incinerating another sausage before turning to look at Sectonia. ”How impressive!” He lifted up his cape so that the now-full Grimmchild could take shelter, then continued. ”I once led the Grimm Troupe, but now, I am but a humble fire-dancer,” he rasped. Now that the others had seen his mouth, they might find it strange that he didn’t need to open it to speak. ”If that ignites your interest, let us dance together sometime. Through twist and turn, frolick and footwork, all is revealed.”

”Ah, another dancer. Primrose might like you. She uses dancing as well in order to fight. Although ‘fire’ makes me think your dancing is less supportive and more destructive.” Sectonia didn’t comment too much on dancing with Grimm. She wasn’t a great dancer, she was more of a singer.

Another figure stepped through the open frame leading into the Mess hall, revealing them to be the scarred, grizzled soldier-type Falcon had brought aboard the night before. The man gave a cursory glance of everyone present, and it was obvious to the more seasoned of the members there that he was very much out of his element even if his stoic appearance tried to hide it. The man locked his eye to Falcon for a microsecond before he strode over to the open countertop and dished himself up a plate of eggs, sausage, toast and bacon before grabbing himself a styrofoam cup of straight black coffee. While the majority of other tables were unoccupied, Snake knew he’d have a chance to meet up with the other members of this outfit later. For now, he headed to the table with the only member he recognized. He’d been too late to see the others the night before and, clearly used to being to himself, seemed rather awkward as he strode up to the table with a curt nod toward the group- as if he were a highschool freshman trying to join a senior table. ”Mind if I join you?”

”We’ve got space if you don’t mind squeezing in” the princess replied, meaning that quite literally because they’d unintentionally ended up with the two largest seekers at one table.

Goldlewis himself seemed cognizant of this fact. “Sure thing partner, here.” Grabbing his plates, the unexpected self-conscious man tried to scooch over to give the newcomer more room. By now, Goldlewis could sort out the fresh-faced recruits (as much as this man defied that description) from the veterans, so he planned to extend Snake the same hospitality that he did Grimm. And the Witch, if he got a chance to make a better impression.

”You also joined up over our week hiding out?” Midna asked, slightly indicating to Grimm with a half nod, before also enquiring ”how are you finding our mess of an association?” with a toothy grin.

Snake nodded toward the man’s offer; taking heed to the princess’s words as he maneuvered to sit alongside the open space next to the larger man. It was an interesting outfit of people, to say the least. Though, he did have his own motley crew of crazy back home. Snake looked to Midna, dipping his head in a nod toward Falcon. “Courtesy of the Captain here. Were it not for him, I’d still be in that damn town I’m sure.” Snake said, taking a gentle sip of the steaming vantablack liquid from his cup. A quick hum emanated from the back of his throat as he addressed Midna’s follow up. “Interesting for sure. First impressions have been nice so far.” The people were welcoming, and the coffee was good. Not to mention, it was rather bizarre to enter the Mess without lingering glances of acknowledgement, stares of adulation, or quick salutes at his presence. Not that he’d come to expect or desire any from this group. His actions were his own, with respect being the one thing he sought to earn among this group of fighters. His next question came after a quick bite of sausage. “How long have you all been here?”

”No worst enemies on it then? Lucky” Midna replied, her eyes flicking over to Ganondorf, before actually answering the question with ”Just about two weeks or so? Seekers only started up, hmm, two days before that though? We were making heroic pace before we went to ground for a week in places like the silly sounding little seaside town you were in. Did it have some of Galeem’s favorite horrors tucked away in it?”

”Oh, come now.” Falcon said to the princess as he chewed a bite of his spicy omelet. ”Is carrying old grudges really the most productive thing to do? Besides, he seems like he has no idea who you are, so it sounds like this grudge of yours is a bit one-sided, no?” He paused long enough to take another drink of milk from his glass. ”Not that I condone any of his actions, of course. From what I heard about him from Zelda, yes, he is indeed a pretty bad egg. But so is Bowser and his family. As long as they’re all helping us out I don’t really see what the problem is.”

Before Snake could respond to Midna, Falcon beat him to it. Finishing off his sausage and eggs, he opted to listen to the two converse as he weighed the situation in his head. Tensions were definitely high around here, what with that catwoman and the punk girl having fought during that fight against Mabuchi in the theater, and now it was something between the princess and the massive red-armored figure. They’d have to sort it out among themselves, which Snake found himself grunting in the affirmative to Falcon’s reasoning. “Falcon’s right. Holding on to grudges makes the enemy’s job a lot easier.” Beyond that, seeing as the majority of those present were only here for two weeks, it would make sense that people who naturally held rivalries or were bitter adversaries would still be tense around each other since they were all forced to cooperate.

Midna simply rolled her eyes at this and replied that ”Don’t worry about it. I’ve resigned myself to tolerating his existence as long as he’s being useful to our shared cause” with the not so subtle implication that was about as long as her amnesty would last.

”Besides the’ ‘star warrior, or the ‘warrior of the land’ I really don’t have much in the way of enemies. At least ones from Dreamland. Here though, I’ve made quite a few but that just comes with the territory. That black hedgehog for one…” Sectonia said, remembering an older altercation with someone who managed to escape her wrath.

While the others spoke, Goldlewis had been mostly munching, but he could not say he liked where the conversation was headed .Ultimately, though, one’s thoughts and feelings didn’t matter to the campaign as a whole. Only the end result. “Ya don’t have to like him, or anyone,” the veteran affirmed. “But as long as we’re doin’ this thing, we’re comrades-in-arms. Y’all gotta have each other’s backs, whether we like it or not. Comprende?”

The declaration seemed to prompt another long look from Grimm at Sectonia. ”I understand,” he whispered after a moment. ”We have all taken the stage for a reason. Each one of us has a part to place, and if a single player misses a cue, it may very well be curtains.”

”Why are you looking at me like that? Captivated by my beauty?” Sectonia said, a bit unsure of Grimms intentions, putting up a front to mask her confusion. If she had to guess with him looking like the bugs from the Under, perhaps it was something related to the guardian of the area she absorbed but she wasn’t sure.

”As I said, I’ll see this through till we reach the epilogue, but in that it's him not me you’ll need to worry about. I’ve seen his story play out twice already, and the third’ll be just the same” Midna replied while playing tangentially into Grimm’s mannerism, before sighing and apologizing. Not about her attitude regarding Ganondorf, but instead specifically to Snake, saying ”Sorry, didn’t mean to make this all about me. We’ll try this again after we get back from the mission” before preparing to leave, having chomped through her meal while she’d been being lectured.

Venom Snake looked up at Midna, offering a reassuring smile that tugged at the corner of his right lip.“You didn’t, don’t sweat it.” He could only surmise that whatever Midna had been subjected to- or witnessed with what the enemy of hers did, left a scar not to be forgotten. He hoped his words were of some consolation, at least.

After Goldlewis drained the last of his milk-spiked coffee, he looked down to find his plate empty. “All out, huh? When did that happen?” he mumbled. Then, clearing his throat, the veteran rose. “Well, good talkin’ to ya. I got some stuff that needs takin’ care of before we get goin’. If we’re takin’ the Pelican, I reckon I’ll see y’all up in the hangar.” He glanced at the two newbies. “Aft side, second floor from the top, just past the armory. If ya reach the Bridge, ya gone too far.” The big man checked his watch. “...Fifty minutes and countin’, folks. Be there, or be square.” Goldlewis raised his eyebrows over his glasses as he gave his dramatic ultimatum, as if being square was something the others ought to dread. Then he headed off to make his preparations.

Looking around to the table and giving a curt nod, Snake stood up and excused himself to dispose of his tray and beverage. As he strode out of the Mess, his color gradually returned into his vision as he followed the big man’s directions. He really wasn’t sure who was in charge of this outfit- be it him or the angel. Perhaps it was a collaborative effort shared between the two. Stowing speculation to the best of his mind, Snake reached the briefing room and stepped inside; taking a look around the area as he moved to lean up against the wall to the front of the room.

Sectonia let out a tick of disappointment and disgust at the mention of the Dead Zone. ”A land of horrors made out of random masses of flesh. That place is ugly with no redeeming factors.” She said, not mentioning that's where she was found, a spot of beauty in an ocean of ugly.

”And those packs that are supposed to protect us?” Falcon brought up, having finished off his omelet and was now working on finishing his biscuit and gravy side dish. ”Using babies like that. It doesn’t sit right with me. Not one bit.” Finally he finished off his food and all that was left was a swallow or two of coffee in the mug that he reached for in order to down the rest of it. ”I don’t know if that’s a product of Galeem or someone else, but whoever came up with that system is one seriously sick person. Anyway, I’ll be in the training center ‘til mission time if anyone needs me. Good talking to everyone.” He said as he was now done and took his tray and plates to be washed before disappearing back into the Avenger’s facilities.

When she took her leave of the mess hall, Nadia jogged back toward her room to gather everything she might need for the upcoming equipment. On the way she wondered if she’d find Blazermate back where she left her, seeing as her roommate had opted to not go to breakfast even just for socialization, but when she slid the door open the feral found no sign of Blazermate within. With a shrug, she began to collect her things.

First she donned her belt, slipping it through the loops of her shorts before attaching her four pouches. Ever since she acquired them back in that classy Home of Tears leather shop, these enchanted (and deceptively roomy) storage spaces had been lifesavers. As far as she could tell, each one could store any one item no matter the size, and one still contained that magical lemonade pitcher that refilled itself after use. It did take a moment of reaching into and rummaging through the pouches to work out which one Free Lemonade happened to be in, of course, and once she found it she stowed it in the left back pouch. Into the front right pouch went her Bait Launcher. Between the lemonade and the launcher’s stock of raw steaks, the feral’s weapon stockpile happened to offer a lot of remarkably imperishable food and drink should she need it. “If only I could pocket a grill,” she said aloud with an amused smile. “Guess I missed my barbe-cue.” Into the left front pouch went her Ripened Heart, which she handled with the ginger reverence of a holy relic on account of how many times its healing saved her bacon, and the right back pouch got her wallet. Finally, she jammed her twin Athame daggers into the middle pouches on both sides. “Girl’s gotta accessorize.”

Nadia then threw on her sporty navy-blue jacket, followed by her rigging pack. For as much space as those mechanical arms could occupy once deployed, they somehow contrived to fold up into quite the manageable pack. Thanks to her fusions, the rigging from the shipgirl Massachusetts also contained the extra disposable blades that fit into those special hilts…what were they called, again? The one-eyed proprietor of Seam’s Pawn Seap in the Home of Tears referred to them by some long and complicated name, but they looked like giant box cutters, so that’s what Nadia called them. Nadia stashed the lightweight hilts themselves in her jacket’s inside pocket for quick and easy access. After that, she slipped on Havel’s Ring to lighten her equipment load, then pinned the Blue Dancer’s charm to her lapel opposite the silver fishbones that represented her gang. Now all her strikes would pack extra punch while she stayed light on her feet.

Feeling properly kitted out, Nadia took a deep breath and jogged back out of her room, pausing only to close it up. Next on her itinerary was the training center, just across from the cafeteria and down the hall. Inside, she did some quick stretches (in some cases stretching her muscles tissues well outside her body) then set her sights on the combat adjudicator. The Battle Royal Rumble yesterday proved that she could definitely still scrap, but after a week mostly spent fishing in the Blue Hole, the feral wanted to squeeze in some time to practice her combos. According to Sandalphon’s briefing the team’s first order of business today would be sneaking around nuclear ghosts, which they should not under any circumstances even attempt to fight, but it wasn’t like the feral could sit around doing nothing.

Once limbered up, Nadia got to work. First, she did what she knew best: fighting with her natural weapons. For all her extra equipment, her sharp claws and fierce kicks were what she relied on the most, so any time spent practicing would pay off. She worked the basics, starting off with simple strings but quickly moving on to extended combos. As a magical training dummy that could be combo’d, launched, and juggled without ever suffering permanent damage, the Combat Adjudicator was perfect for perfecting her execution, no matter how many times it took. It couldn’t react like a person would to her mixups or fall for her resets, but Nadia drilled those too. Instant overhead, empty jump low, double jump, air backdash for the double cross up…the feral might not hit anywhere near as hard as some other Seekers, but she had enough dirty tricks up her sleeve to make anyone’s head spin, and once a she got a combo started it was her job to keep up the heat until her foes were well and truly cooked.

After working through her natural abilities, Nadia got a bit more experimental and brought her new powers into the mix. Charge plus Battery had been a staple of her game plan ever since she gleaned them from Cat-5, but Battery’s critical hits caused too much blowback to not drop the combo. Charge by itself let her zip after a launched opponent to keep the party going, though, but the spacing was tough. Using Fluffy Soft to transform her arm or leg mid-combo offered a lot more potential; the withering slash of her tiger claws dished out extra hitstun and momentarily boosted damage taken. Smart usage of Fluffy Soft mid-combo could extend her beatdowns even farther, but it would take getting used to. That went double for her assists, neither of which were easy to incorporate into her combos. For one, the Harbor Water Demon was much too big to even summon in here. Rhodeia, meanwhile, would take some getting used to as a Striker. While fused with the Oceanid, Nadia had commanded her Hydro Mimicry herself, which offered more control at the expense of extra concentration. Now, Rhodeia’s Hydro Mimics were fire-and-forget, but Nadia had to issue commanders during their construction that could not be deviated from. Nadia’s combo practice, especially with Hydro Mimics (thanks in part to Rhodeia’s cooldown) ended up taking a long while, and before Nadia knew it, her time was nearly up. “Drat,” she muttered, wiping her brow. “Forgot about the Armory. Oh well…I’ve got more than I need already.” With that, she scampered off toward the Hangar.

Goldlewis, meanwhile, did not forget about the Armory. After breakfast he headed there first, not rushing too much on the way so as not to disturb his digestion. Upon arrival, he looked over the stockpiled weapons, curious as to what the Seekers and Lost Numbers had managed to amass. Unfortunately, he did not come away impressed. The miscellaneous items ran the gamut from fantasy to science fiction, including a handful of melee weapons, casting catalysts, accessories, attachments, power supplies, and guns. He even saw an unclaimed robotic drone. Some of it looked usable, but to his disappointment the shotgun had only five rounds in its magazine, with no sign of extra ammunition anywhere. The Deepcore assault rifle, meanwhile, was actually empty. If nothing else, he supposed that the Armory had a good variety. While his Skyfish minigun packed a lot of punch, its inclusion in his coffin’s Security Level system put a few conditions on its use. It would’ve been handy to have a traditional weapon that could be used anywhere, anytime, and by now he was pretty desensitized to Black Tech, anyway. After that, he inspected his other new weapons, the shotgauntlets. Their power and mobility would be a serious help in close quarters, assuming that the team ran into enemies other than BTs. To Goldlewis, that seemed inevitable; for today’s mission, reaching the Qliphoth was only half the battle.



Confident in his equipment, the veteran walked next door to the Hangar ahead of schedule. There he found the Pelican undergoing the final steps of its fueling and maintenance procedure, attended to by the engineers Shirogane and Lulubi. That surly pink nopon wasn’t the only one present, though, since Goldlewis quickly spotted Tora as well. The rotund little inventor seemed to be working with E. Gadd on a handful of last-minute test cases and adjustments for the Stable Field Emitter, and as always Poppi wasn’t far away. “Howdy there, Tora, Poppi,” Goldlewis greeted them, followed by a respectful nod to Gadd. “That thing ain’t gonna crap out on us, is it?”

“No way!” Tora protested, flapping his free wing dismissively. “Emitter just little…pernickety, meh! Needs lots of Tora attention, all day and night. It make Poppi jealous!” he grinned

Not used to being the one on the receiving end of some teasing, Poppi reached over and flicked her Masterpon on the head. “If Tora getting attached to emitter, maybe Tora should go down with friends and have all to himself.”

Wincing, Tora shook his head. “Poppiii, Tora just kidding!”

Goldlewis chuckled. “Y’know, I can’t help but wonder. Back in the Sandswept Sky, y’all were fightin’ alongside the others on the front lines. You were mighty fine fighters down in those Al Mamoon dungeons. You two really okay sittin’ on the sidelines after all that?”

“Well, that not case, meh.” Tora scratched his head. “Would like to help, but after Poppi got lost in Valley of Ruin, we also lose one-of-a-kind ether furnace that allow us to function as Blade and Driver. New Poppi body not bad, but very weak in comparison, and without ether channeling, Tora’s weapons not work.” The nopon shook his head sadly. “Meh, meh. So without ether, Tora and Poppi just liability.”

“That why we do all we can aboard Avenger to make sure rest of team have smooth sailing,” Poppi chimed in, patting Tora on the head.

Tora nodded, brightening up. “That right, meh! Next project is special camera, so friends can take pictures of cool-cool things and bring back for Tora and Poppi to see! That way, it like we right there with everypon!” He held up a round device with a camera lens for Goldlewis to see.

The veteran nodded, crossing his arms. “Sounds like a plan. Finish that doohickey up and I’ll take it with me next time. Knowin’ y’all have our backs means I can breathe easy down there.” He and the others continued to chat until the appointed time.

Sandalphon spent the bulk of her time much further down in the Avenger, in the Mysticenter. She sidled up to the spellcrafting station amidst a handful of elemental shrines, taking stock of the magical ingredients and resources available for use. While she had yet to obtain a magical firearm that could make use of the spell bullets made here, it would be prudent to be stocked up in case she did acquire the right weapon, and the spell bullets’ unique attributes also begged the question of whether or not they could be used other ways. Fire Bullets didn’t take much explanation, but when paired with Oil Bullets the results could be devastating. On the surface Poison Bullets might seem like a waste, but if she could use her research to establish a Disease Shrine, bullets could be made that would consume poison stacks to induce unique effects. Order Bullets interested her the most, as they could allegedly repair whatever they hit. The archangel ended up making a handful of Fire, Oil, Order, Freezing, Water, and Stasis Bullets (the latter of which, amusingly, only took ten stones apiece to craft) and carefully packed them away for future use, making sure not to exhaust any one type of resource.

The process took more time and effort than expected, so after finishing Sandalphon decided to head back up to the Hangar. On the way she triple-checked her weapons, starting with her gunstaff. Though unremarkable, it remained a dependable mainstay for mid-range combat and casting. Today she also wielded the Eye of Sol for deadly long-range firepower, but she’d elected to leave the Aether Lance from Skywave in the armory. Its lobbed projectiles, whether to harm or heal, were simply not as effective or practical as her other methods. There was no use holding onto any piece of equipment in the face of empirical fact. About the time she wrapped up her examination, she found herself accompanied by that red-eyed shade from the Forbidden Kingdom, Grimm. Though he walked and talked enough like a man to be more than a little creepy, this bug was practically inscrutable, his thoughts and actions a mystery. Sandalphon walked alongside him in silence, unable to get a read on him despite all her powers of perception. If Goldlewis vouched for him and the Witch, she was in no position to object, but a team lived and died by its ability to communicate. Hopefully his actions would speak louder than words.



As eight o’clock drew near, the Seekers amassed in the Hangar on the Avenger’s uppermost level, itself the second-tallest chamber after the spacious Engine Room. In front of them sat the Avenger’s dropshop, the stout and solid-looking Pelican, its rear ramp down to admit the team into its troop bay. While it featured only five seats alongside either wall, its floor space offered enough room for about ten more to stand. Goldlewis wouldn’t have a problem finding space, but squeezing Sectonia in might be a real challenge. Luckily, Sandalphon had thought ahead. “If there’s not enough space, the Avenger can perform one hellpod run over the landing site as the Pelican touches down to deliver four more. A hellpod can fit any one occupant, after all, which does disqualify anyone with a BB.” The archangel had donned her long white coat, worn properly rather than off-the-shoulder this time. “I myself will warp down to join you upon your arrival. We are approaching the designated departure point, so please climb aboard or descend to Deployment.”

One by one, the heroes marched past the equipment table, grabbing synthetic raincoats and personal shield packs. Since she was already wearing a pack, Nadia had to make a tough choice. She took off her rigging pack and set it down, followed by her boxcutter hilts. Naval warfare wasn’t a high likelihood in the Dead Zone anyway, but it looked like she’d be down her swords as well. Primrose, Edward, Goldlewis, and Roland carefully accepted a BB and its accompanying equipment from Deadman, while Ace had the honor of receiving the all-important Stable Field Emitter from Tora and E Gadd. Big Band, Dante, Cerberus and a few others were on hand to watch the Seekers go before they went about their own important tasks. Nadia trotted up the ramp and found herself a corner to ride in, while Goldlewis and the other BB carriers enjoyed some of the limited seats. Once everyone was aboard, the bay doors closed, and the floor began to rise. Overhead, the Avenger’s rear hatch slid open, revealing pale blue skies. After another moment, the Pelican was flying free, left in the dust by the mothership. Bound for the turbulent sea of murky clouds below, the aircraft began its descent.

Within a few moments, the Pelican reached the cloud layer. It began to shake and rattle right away, the sensation far more visceral than the gentle, mitigated sway of the Avenger, The passengers were jerked and jostled, many obliged to seize a handhold if they hadn’t already. After a moment, Sandalphon’s sigils glimmered into being beside the heads of those linked to her network, and her calm, steady voice filled the troop bay. “You’ve reached the clouds. Ever since the voidout, the atmosphere in this region has been polluted by chiralium. According to bridges, long-term exposure to chiralium can cause poor sleep, nightmares, depression, and suicidal thoughts. You will not be here long. It’s time to activate the Stable Field Emitter.”

At her command, the control module on the emitter’s shaft could be used to turn it on. It was a simple affair, with a dial that could only be turned when the safety button was held down. Once its dial was turned and locked in place, the emitter began to hum and glow. Its pylons began to spark like tesla coils, and a spherical bluish-white field expanded out from its core. The pulse washed across the Seekers, touched the bay walls, and faded, but the emitter remained online. Nadia shuddered as a dreadful feeling overcame her, caused by the suppression of the magical Life Gem that kept her alive. It wasn’t weak enough to be quashed completely, but she knew that her healing abilities would be much worse as long as she remained in range. She gave a nervous laugh. “I guess this is about as normal as I’ll ever be.”

The next moment, everyone heard the rain. It pounded their ship’s hull, so loud that the passengers could scarcely hear themselves think, let alone talk. Goldlewis wasn’t bothered either by the emitter or by the ride so far, but he noticed that Sandalphon’s sigil had faded, cutting her off from the rest of the Seekers. He also noticed that the emitter -or maybe just the tumultuous flight- seemed to be affecting Grimm rather severely. The Troupe Master, ferreted away among the compartments above the seats, lay like a wounded beast, his dimmed eyes wide open. “Hold out just a li’l longer, partner,” Goldlewis called up to him. “Won’t be long ‘til we’re back on solid ground.”

Luckily, Goldlewis was right. After about a minute, the Seekers felt the Pelican begin to decelerate. While it did not land, it continued to slow down until it hovered just above the ground, where the bay doors began to open. Ahead of them lay a barren, rocky landscape, its stone and soil so dark that they might as well be black, with nothing but fuzzy green moss in terms of vegetation. The rain was heavy and loud, so thick in the air that Goldlewis couldn’t even see the towering Qliphoth that lay about a mile dead ahead. Nor could he see any signs of living -or unliving- things, but he knew they were out there. He looked down at the BB strapped to his chest, questionably safe in his bright orange pod as he peered out at the scenery, eyes wide. Thanks to Baby Luigi there, he would be one of the privileged few to lay eyes on the BTs himself. He, Primrose, Roland, and Edward would be taking point in this operation, which was more than a little terrifying even to a veteran soldier like himself.

Goldlewis pulled up the hood on his raincoat, not caring if his pompadour got mussed for once. Protection from the timefall was more important. Unlike some of these whipper-snappers, he didn’t have an abundance of years that this rain could wash away. If he could help it, Goldlewis wasn’t going to lose a single hour.

Though normally the type to sprint headfirst into danger, Nadia pawsed at the bottom of the ramp. Ears flattened beneath her hood, she glanced at the Stable Field Emitter, then up at the sky. “So, uh, how do we know it’s workin’, again?”

Grimm still seemed a little sickly, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. ”Look.”

He pointed with a sharp black claw, and when the others followed his gaze, they spotted something remarkable. Beyond a certain distance from the Stable Field Emitter (about twenty-five feet), the rain was causing something to happen when it hit the ground. Green sprouts, flowerbuds, and blades of grass shot up from the earth, grew to full maturity, spawned, withered, and died, all within seconds. When Ace descended the ramp, emitter in hand, the zone that defied this anomaly moved with him. The hairs on the back of Nadia’s neck rose, but she put on a brave face and pushed forward. After the last person stepped off the ramp, the Pelican -now on a timer without the Stable Field Emitter to keep it safe- rocketed away, and as it retreated Sandalphon warped in. Her hood was up, and she held her gunstaff in hand, more for use as a walking stick right now than a weapon. She nodded at the Seekers. “Let us begin.”

The terrain left behind by the bombed Dead Zone was treacherous, a bowl-shaped expanse of stony rubble left slick by the constant deluge. Rivers of rainwater carved furrows down the downward slope with unexpected force, forking and diverting at random. Forget about the BTs–just maintaining one’s footing around here would be a challenge. But the Seekers could not just forget about the BTs. There were strange noises in the rain. Within a minute of setting off, something spooked the BBs, and through their synergistic link their carriers shuddered as chills ran down their spines, and the odradek devices on their shoulders turned on. Once raised into position, the odradeks deployed their five sensory fingers and began to scan for danger, chirping whenever their linked BBs clued them into a new source of otherworldly matter. If they begin to click their fingers rapidly, focused on a particular point in space, a BT is within thirty feet. And if one’s odradek locks up like flower petals and begins to spin, emitting a high-pitched mechanical whine, a BT is close enough to hear one’s breathing.

After hurriedly finishing his cooling meal that he’d left unattended in the name of jotting down as much info as he could, Edward had three things he needed to do.

First, he headed back to his room and equipped his armor and weapons, despite the fact that neither magelock was going to be of much use in the magic suppression field that would be keeping them safe.

With his sword flattened in the train crash after he had dropped and failed to retrieve it in time, that left him potentially entirely unarmed in the magic suppressor, something his second task would hopefully rectify. That task was a quick jaunt to the spirit chamber, within which he donned the absurd hat that supposedly would improve his odds of a good item.

He had, after using his striker to heal himself, mixed feelings about if his odds had actually been improved or if the harmful headgear was merely perceived as doing so.

More data would be required.



The results were, well, interesting. Partially because he wasn’t sure what everything did. What was a feather going to do to help? Was it a quill for writing? It certainly looked like it. But then when he picked it up he felt a subtle effect taking over him once again, so perahpse not.

Properly assessing things would, it seemed, be relying on him waiting for Midna, but there were at least a few things that he could feel/see the value of right away.

The first was the Pendant. He could already feel how it would add to his store of PP when holding it, which meant one more deflected de-buff which he wasn’t going to complain about. So around his neck it went.

The second was to replace the Heavenswing Shield with the Enchanted buckler. The latter might have been heavier, but it left his hand free, which would make using a shield alongside two handed weapons such as his rifle still doable if a bit cumbersome. Not that he was going to use the rifle during the initial magic draining section of the fight, but still.

The old shield went into the crucible, permanently adding the minor boost to him, which was odd to think about, but most certainly useful. He could only imagine how absurd tossing dozens of pendants into it could get, assuming he could acquire them.

As for everything else, well, it looked like he had a very strange replacement for his lost sword in the form of the war scythe (one that certainly did not fit the scabbard he had well at all which was going to be a problem) and then beyond it there was a whole load of. Well. Very strange things was perhaps the best way to describe it. Flimsy masks, an odd quiver, and some sort of golden rings styled after halos.

Oh and a massive musical instrument. That last was very much what made his subsequent trip to the armory quite a bit of a pain, though at least the quiver helped out, attached to his belt and stuffed with odds and ends as it was.

He dearly missed both his horse’s saddle bags and his empire’s enchanted armory in that moment… which spurred on an idea.

Hopefully his arrival carrying a load of dubiously useful gubins wasn’t about to get in the way of him making an arrangement with whoever was operating the armory.

There was only one way to find out, and that was to carefully shave open the entrance to it with a shoulder, and then to say ”Good morning, I am here to inspect… to view the armory, and to make an addition or two” to the person he found waiting on the other side, while trying to angle his neck so he could see past the Sousaphone.

Sagi, the Avenger's quartermaster, received him with a polite smile. With all of the Seekers back on board, alongside a few new additions having come to and fro from the ship's stockpile, she was busier than ever that day. This man was yet another new face, but she welcomed him - and his donations - all the same.

"Good morning. Feel free to look around. Just let me know if you take something. Oh, but first, what have you got for us?"

Edward carefully deposited the pile of debatable quality loot on a convenient sorting counter, and felt like he needed to justify the musical instrument taking up most of the space, saying ”One of the kinds of false angels in skyworld used these to fire beam spells of some kind” but having no such explanation of the mask.

The quartermaster said not a word at first, just cataloging everything Edward placed down with both her eyes and her hands, her pen rapidly flowing over the clipboard she held in her hand. She didn’t seem disappointed in any of the items, even the ones that seemed useless at first glance, but she did crack an amused smile when the man started trying to explain some of them.

“I see. No need to explain yourself - if you have no use for these, we’ll find one. Even if I have to meld some items into entirely new ones, none will go to waste.”

”Melding? I am aware of a process to break down magical items into essence that can be forged into new ones, is it something similar?” he asked the quartermaster as he watched her work, looking on with approval of her efficacy and skill.

"Indeed it is," she responded, surprised but pleased that he already seemed familiar with the concept. "I use a technique called Wyverian Melding to break items down into their base properties, not necessarily magic essence, but they can then be combined into a talisman. Unfortunately there is no real way to predict or influence what properties the created talisman possesses afterward, but they're certainly more useful than a handful of items collecting dust."

”Ah, more ‘gambling’ with fate. Fascinating” Edward said, both intrigued and maybe a little disconcerted regarding how much was being left up to random chance when it came to their armaments. Then again, was it any different from gambling that the ruined wizard tower or other ancient wonder you where raiding would contain useful magical equipment instead of yet another kettle helm with a minor armor enchantment? He supposed not.

His words seemed to further amuse Sagi, and she murmured, “Isn’t every day alive a gamble with fate?” as she continued jotting things down.

After dropping things off, Edward took a look through what they already had, and came to a similar conclusion to Goldlewis, which was that it really was something of a dumping ground of various odds and ends. Now some did seem powerful to the right user, but for every specialist axe, there was an icicle, vial of blood or ”Is that a necklace of children’s teeth?!”.

Still, it did have one thing that the Drednaught found useful, and that was a very unusual pistol that apparently fired energy bolts via entirely non magical means. Its clunky size and rather grotesque adornment of fleshy trophies were rather major downsides however. It made for tolerable temporary replacement for his magelock pistol, at the very least. Though frankly between it and the war scythe, he would not like to get into any actual combat while they were magically suppressed, and so would be focusing on his job just as he said he would.

”We really do need to sort out the logistics of this place. Some of these weapons don’t even have ammo” he said, not as a complaint but as a statement of intent.

Sagi looked up from her notes, this time regarding Edward with a raised eyebrow.

“I realize you must have only recently been destoried, but do you know how many different kinds of ballistic weapons there are in this world? How many different kinds of ammunition they use? If you have a supply request, by all means let me know, but I thank you not to question my methods. We’re all working with what we’ve got,” she said. She didn’t seem upset, but she did speak more slowly as though that would get her words through to Edward better.

”and I shall endeavor to improve what you have to work with as best I can” the Dreadnought replied smoothly, attempting to smooth over the way he had misspoken rather than directly apologies for his ignorance, before segueing into a way he might be able to assist: ”Speaking of, there is another reason I am here which may make your life just a bit more hectic I can imagine, but it should be of some value to operations”

As he did this, he pulled out a smaller, lesser tome of magic, flipping through the pages, and then setting it down on the bench, revealing an arcane ritual detailed as a set of schematics, which he proceeded to explain.

”If you allow me to set this up, it will be able to provide remote armory access to anyone anywhere in the world who has been properly aligned to our faction via a simple binding spell. They will then be able to summon objects from the armory, which will prompt them to be teleported to them post haste” he explained the upside, before getting to the slight downside which was ”Unfortunately, while they can send things back, the process is a touch more involved. I can invest suitable power here, you see, to power the transfer near instantly, but on field operations will gather that power more slowly and so the returning ritual will take several seconds to complete. Still very useful, you might agree, but not so for rapid equipment swapping like Princess Midna performs unfortunately”


Though the silver haired woman read through the ritual notes with some interest, as she listened to Edward’s explanation her expression gradually flattened into a frown.

“This sounds like it could easily lead to an organizational nightmare,” she said. She didn’t mind people coming in and taking what they needed while leaving what they didn’t - that was what the armory and stockpile was there for after all. But she was able to easily keep track of everything when she was present and speaking with said people. If she let Edward perform his magic, then anyone could take anything at any time. However, she did understand the major benefits of such a ritual. It took a few moments as Sagi thought it over, then she turned to face Edward, holding her clipboard to her chest.

“I may allow it… though I do have some questions first. When items are transported back here, can you specify where they end up? It won’t do to have them randomly dropped around the room. And can the ritual be reversed or blocked? Either on the whole or an individual basis? On that note, can people be transported? You never know if someone will turn coat, become possessed, lose their mind to someone else’s whims, fall back into Galeem’s hold…” she went on to list a number of unfortunate things that could befall anyone that would be granted access to the armory, and therefore access to the Avenger - and endangering the ship was something she would not tolerate even if the pros of ritual access outweighed the cons.

Very good at her job, Edward concluded, before going down the list, specifically by flicking the tomes pages and finding additional lists of additional information: ”Naturally the spell involves designating arrival areas for received items, which comes with an arcane control circles to vet what is being received. Notably the control circles can be accessed anywhere in the ritual space, or with some additional work they can be bound to an object for remote access beyond the confines of the designated chambers. This allows for the creation of secured, sealed, chambers to be used to contain any hypothetical cursed artifacts, primed explosives or the like”

”The same controle circles can be used to approve the addition of, or remove access from, any individuals from the armory access spells, which need to be passed on from one access holder to the next. Preventing enthralled, converted, or hostile reanimated heroes was very much a known concern” he explained. Looting the enemy armory was more or less the first thing any fledgling warlord thought of upon capturing one of their foe’s champions after all, so measures had to be taken to prevent such things. As for shutting it down entirely, well, he was entirely aware that he was a potential weak link, and so explained that ”The magic will also be bound here, specifically, so if you need to destroy it due to myself being compromised, you will very much be able to do so”

As for the limitations of what could be transported, he was very insistent that it should include ”No people. Living minds do not take kindly to the process, and while a being intended to be used as steeds could be prepared to endure the exposure to the astral sea, performing such a process would damage the capacity for autonomy. There is another ritual that can be used to that, but the infrastructure for that is far more intensive”

Sagi committed all of the answers to mind, and to paper as she copied some of the information in the man's tome down. With these contingencies built into the ritual, Edward's proposal was a lot more palatable for the Avenger's quartermaster. After she was finished writing her notes, Sagi tapped her pen against the writing surface a few times as she considered the matter. Ultimately this would be helpful, she decided, and told Edward the good news.

"Alright, I'm satisfied. I'll get an arrival area set up properly... hm, let's put it over here," she said, leading him over to a spot she deemed would be good for it.

”Excellent, then let us begin”
The rituals were both surprisingly complex and yet also straightforward. No great expenditures of magic or gratuitous scribbling of magic symbols all over. Instead the man simply went to the four corners of the room, traced a rhythmic gesture in the air that quickly vanished in each, before returning to the center and making a clean and simple statement: ”I claim this place, in the name of the commonwealth. Let all who serve its glorious name lay claim to the contents, such that they may build a brighter future for all”
There was no great flash or explosion of sound, no sudden magic bond held by all. Instead the man simply held out a hand to Sagi, a circle forming in it, and it was then that she felt a connection offered.
”Now you simply, copy me and-” the executed the same simple ritual to call up the screen again, ”-there you have it”

---

The Dreadnaught exited out of the armory and out into the vehicle bay where he expected to find some people waiting to set off, having gotten their affairs in order. While that might have been the case, what stood out was a woman who had apparently decided here was the place she would be getting her affairs in order, namely Princess Minda, who was doing her best to repair a giant bipedal canine skeleton, as well as its buckled armor.

He was fairly certain that the hulking undead had fallen from a great height and shattered its lower legs in the process, something he’d seen more than one over eager shocktrooper do to themselves in an attempt to get a (literal) drop on their enemy.

”I was unaware you were also a necromancer” he commented with forced casualness, not exactly the greatest fan of such sorceries. While hypothetically usable for good, an undead was functionally an automaton after all, they tended not to be due to how many dark paths to power it held, tempting the practitioner into doing vile deeds in the name of whatever goal they had.

”I dabble” the princess replied with a wiggle of one hand as she used the other three to carefully stuck shards of bone back in place ”But this is my only undead right now, and also my most durable summon, so try not to get to upset about it. You won’t find me toying around with skull and bone much otherwise”

She then glanced up at him, took one look at the mismatched weapon combo he’d acquired (not to mention how it barely fit on his person due to both being so awkwardly shaped and sized compared to what they were replacing) and gave a snort of a laugh.

”That’s the best you could do to replace your magic guns? Hang on let me see if I have stuff stashed away that will work for you” before she looped up and away, presumably seeing her own personal armory through some magic means.

”That would be appreciated-” Edward began to reply, but Midna already had found what she thought he needed.

She produced a Machete and Pistol and ‘Viral Rifle’ for him, more or less perfectly finding replacements for the equipment he wasn’t going to be able to use in the magic suppression field. Suspiciously perfectly, in his opinion.

”Made a lot of use of these?” he asked as she handed him the equipment.

”Haven't touched the sword and pistol, and the rifles, eh, not had much luck hitting stuff with those. Also I really don‘t like how you can shoot either healing or harming shots from it, it's- just begging for shooting the wrong person with the wrong thing” a light pause in her words making him very worried she might have in fact done that already

”That. Yes. The entire design goes against a basic firearm safety principle” the Dreadnought agreed, and then was quietly horrified when she had no idea what he was talking about.

”Remind me to give you some pointers on that, but, for one, do not ever point a gun at something you don’t want to destroy. For right now, I’ll have to politely decline the offer of this weapon. I would need to acquire straps for it anyhow” he decided, before inquiring ”Do you have more firearms?” more to assess just how much of a risk this amateur in firearms was going to present rather than seeking a replacement.

”A fair few. Plus a few other blades if you want more options, though they are all weird. I never get a straight forward sword or scimitar for some reason.” she replied, missing his intention thankfully, which confirmed his suspicions that she was holding on to a lot of items for herself, which prompted him to ask ”Have you considered donating some to the armory?”

”A few, but we’re basically never here, and I tend to break or throw or lose the less important ones so having spares is always good” she replied casually, apparently not at all concerned about the casual attrition of the Seeker’s supplies of equipment.

”If its having replacements on hand while on campaign that is your worry, I have just made an improvement to the armory that should let you stop-” he paused and chose his words carefully ”-needing to hold on to so much redundant weaponry”

”Uh uh? Hoarding you mean? Fine, show me” she replied, cutting right through his attempt at tact this time. Rather than beleaguer the point, in instead simply did so, linking her to the system and showing her how it worked. ”Slower to use than my portals, so I’m still going to hold on to some spares, but I suppose I can toss a few more things in there”

‘A few’ turned out to be exactly what she offered, adding a pistol, rifle, pair of grenades and a bizarre gun-sword hybrid to the armory (which were sent back (a whole half dozen meters) along with the plasma pistol and war scythe she had admittedly just replaced for him). Edward would have pushed her for more, assuming correctly that the woman was holding onto a fair amount out of self interest, but that topic was derailed when she summoned two bizarre mechanical contraptions which were, apparently, called motorbikes.

”Think these’ll go work with your summoning magic? They’re like mechanical horses in a sense, though much much faster” she explained, which at least answered the question he’d had in the back of his mind as to what this machine’s sibling (that belonged to Juri apparently) currently sitting in the vehicle bay was.

”The Amory can be used to summon steeds so… hmmm… Well, we might as well see how well the formulas adapt to adding these ‘vehicles’ to the equation” he pondered, before setting out to apply the same ritual he had to the armory to the vehicle bay as well. It helped that they were right next to each other, adding a bunch of intervening corridors would have been quite the mess.

”Looks like its worked” Midna confirmed as she checked the menu and found the newly added room’s content showing up the list, before adding that ”bet the Captain is going to be happy about this, I have no idea how we were going to get any use out of that thing without it being my responsibility” she jerked a thumb towards the Blue Falcon.

”Excellent.” the Dreadnought declared, dusting off his hands, before saying that ”In that case all that remains is to wait for everyone to arrive, so I can make a quick announcement/induction into the system before we set off”

”You can help me put some bones together till then, then. Actually, with that striker of yours, I can probably skip waiting for Blazermate once I’ve put all the pieces back in pace” she told him, simply (and correctly) assuming he’d help.

---

”Before we set off, I’d like to take a moment to inform you that I have augmented the Armory and Vehicle Bay with a summoning and sending enchantment that will give us remote access to them” Edward stepped in to inform everyone on the heels of the information regarding how they’d be getting down there. He followed this up by offering to link everyone up, giving a quick tutorial on how to use the system, and the quirks of it, and then giving his reason for why he thought this would be relevant which was: ”I’d recommend depositing anything that might not work due to magic suppression, or indeed items that will slow us down, behind. They can then simply be remotely retrieved once we enter the tree and disable the magic suppressor”

He also had one more addition to their base equipment, thanks to Midna doing some assessing of the gear he had received from his spirits, which the princess had taken possession of keeping track of: ”we’ve also acquired an item called a ‘Giant's Canopy’ which we believe will be able to block the rain entirely for 30 seconds, so if there comes a moment where we need all our magic, that will be an option to temporarily replace the suppression field”

After that, it was time to pick up equipment, which prompted a slight issue caused by his new wings. Not only did the raincoat need some dramatic altering (via cutting holes in the back) but the personal shield pack was meant for the back too, and so ended up awkwardly strapped to his waist. It had to share space with a BB as well, resulting in quite a busy setup to say the least.

That would have been fine, he was used to carrying his own gear as much for self reliance as to connect with the troops while on campaign, but everything seemed much more precious with a baby strapped to his chest.

”Well then. Hello Mario” he said awkwardly to the infant that had been identified by the short turtle person, receiving a wave from baby Mario in response. Which was not at all disconcerting.

It must have shown on his face, because an armored up and tree spear carrying Midna agreed with his unvoiced sentiment that was ”Yeah, this does not feel right does it”

”No, no it does not” he concurred, before saying that ”I hope putting children in the line of fire this is not normal for this organization” which received the beginning of a shake of the head before she had to concede that ”Well I mean there is Bowser Junior” which resulted in a whispered argument/discussion that took them most of the flight to the dead zone.

Once there, both of them focused on the task at hand, having at least agreed that Minda was going to be the backup BB carrier should anything happen to him, prompting her to stick close to him for the duration of the mission.

With regard to said mission, Edward had thoughts about the way they should proceed with it:

”We should adopt a consistent policy as to how to warn people about the presence of these BTs. I propose we use the tree as a set landmark, and then use angles from it to point out threats, rather than attempting to use gestures or references to terrain or personal location” he recommended, as he moved to the front of the group, in order to give a demonstration of his reference method.

”For example, if I were to say say ‘90 degrees right, 40 meters’ then I’d be identifying a location that would be 40 meters to my right if I was facing the tree, irregardless of my actual facing at that moment” he gestured with an arm to additionally denote the example location.

”If we do this, it should let us better chart a path rather than simply denoting which ones are closest as these devices to” he added, referring to the odradek attached to the BB container.

”As for movement, I recommend a staggered advance. Two carriers on each side. One keeps watch, the other moves forwards in tandem to the field moving forwards. Then we all stop and let those look outs catch up, before repeating the process”

With his statement delivered, only time would tell if it got picked up, and he turned his focus from any resulting discussion to keeping watch. That was his main task after all. A task made all the harder by the constant rain slicking his ad-hockley modified coat, and sodding through his wings, rendering them more or less just a burden rather than a help to navigating the slick terrain, other than maybe adjusting his balance.

In contrast Minda, who moved up beside him, was going to have less of a problem. Clawed mechanical boots offered good grip despite being heels, her tail helped with balance, and the spear she was carrying was being used as a walking stick much like Sandalphon was using her gunstaff. Still she looked a bit unsteady despite this, the women seeming to have less grip than she should on the slick surfaces.

”Something I got ages ago made everything more slippery, and the field’s messing with the way I’ve been compensating” she explained (the latter presumably referring to the purple claws on her feet who’s purple hue had dulled since they entered the field) when he asked about it, before insisting ”But I’ll still watch my step and yours, and you focus on tracking BTs and keeping mario safe”

”Appreciated” he replied, before returning his eyes to the horizon, surveying the terrain for foes.