Although Tora liked Primrose well enough in the brief time he'd known her, the really interesting member of the group was Midna. When he first saw the imp, he'd thought for a horrific second that she might be a gruesomely deformed Indoline. Like her, the race of humans who called the draconic Titan Indol their home featured pale greenish skin and long ears, although they lacked those black markings. Of course, he didn't really consider that the case; it just happened to pop into his head when he saw her. Although diminutive, her shape made her seem not at all a child, which left Tora confused. On top of her unique appearance she also sported a hodgepodge of fascinating abilities, from disappearing into shadows and summoning wolves to changing her hair into a big hand. Cooler still, she was a princess, like Peach. While first impressions made her seem a touch on the bossy side, which fit, the rest of her pretty much embodied the exact opposite of elegance or grace. Of course, the Nopon knew better than to say that.
Since Fox seemed to be deep in contemplation, silence filled the cab once more once the princess said her piece. This lasted, just a little awkward, until Primrose left the confines of the Morgana-car to look around outside. Though busy examining Sectonia's antlion, Tora watched her go, wondering if this stop would be longer than usual.
Outside, Poppi glanced at the passenger departing the car, oblivious to Midna tailing along. Although Sectonia didn't seem particularly interested in the line of conversation Poppi brought up, she couldn't really think of a better one. “That very impressive. Poppi draw energy from ether in atmosphere thanks to ether furnace, but if Poppi exert for too long, reserves deplete and Poppi have no power. Then not very helpful.” She held up her arm and flexed her fingers. Of course, she had yet to put her new power in this form to the test. Sleek, streamlined, and the very image of miracle technology, this body might be efficient enough to make the journey along with Sectonia. But two heroes, even two high-damage fliers, couldn't very well contend with one of Galeem's champions. Besides, she couldn't really consider the possibility of fighting without her Masterpon. They were two sides of the same coin, after all. Neither could excel without the other.
Her audio receptors picked up the words of Primrose, causing her to look that way. Sure enough, her zoom feature could make out a figure in white leaning against one of the totems. Her systems afforded her the ability to examine the unknown face in detail, unlike those of certain other robed strangers. She appeared to be a young woman with dark skin, orange eyes, and light blonde hair, and she was looking Yellow Team's way. “Contact,” she reported for Sectonia. More than that, she seemed to know that she'd gotten the party's attention. With effortless grace the stranger got to her feet, then floated a few inches above the sand. While standing her cloak didn't cover her fully, and Poppi could see that she wore some kind of military vest and shorts, a combination that wouldn't be misplaced in the wardrobe of a Blade. One arm and one leg bore tight red wrappings, bandages perhaps. Poppi watched along with Primrose and Midna as the stranger raised her arm and pointed toward the mountain on the horizon, then tilted her head.
Go, she was saying. If she had anything more to say than that, she seemed to be in no hurry to approach.
Back at the car, the Phantom Thieves had piled out to look around—the true reason for stopping the car. A few moments passed in relative quiet, before the girl called Panther widened her eyes. “Look! Over there!”
She leveled her finger into the distance. Out in the barren expanse, a towering sandstorm undulated in the wind like an immense tapestry, and from the shifting wall issued a strange shape. Although it looked a lot like a camel, its contours and details weren't quite natural, and though it looked small from here, it could only be very large. The noise distracted Poppi from the stranger, and she looked over. “What is that?” the girl asked.
“Some sort of machine,” answered the Artificial Blade. “Reminds Poppi of Titan Gormott, but nowhere near as big.”
“Interesting, but not what we're looking for,” Joker remarked.
Poppi tilted her head. “What are allies looking for? Are we not heading for mountain to fight boss?”
Joker tugged at his collar and climbed into the driver's seat of the Morgana-car. His friends retreated into the cool air as well, thankful for Sectonia's antlions after getting another taste of the desert heat. “We are, but we're also looking for something. The reason we picked this location over the others. A pyramid.”
“Pyramid.” Engaging her zoom, Poppi scanned the horizon. “Searching...searching...” Impressed, the thieves waited in silence. After a moment, however, she shook her head. “Nothing found.”
Skull looked mildly disappointed. “Welp, let's keep movin' then.” He waved at Primrose and Midna. “Hey, girls! You comin' or what?”
To her surprise Hat Kid discovered a signal for none other than a Time Piece. Judging by the spots she passed on the way to the wharf with the other heroes, it was coming from the second island in the the archipelago, the one with the fairground big enough to see from here. To leave in pursuit of it meant going in the opposite direction to the one laid out before her, however, and that double peg-legged pirate seemed eager to begin the voyage to Limsa. The situation begged a choice: leave the Time Piece for later to continue onward unabated with her team, miss the departing ship for the chance to increase her collection, or request that the others wait for her as she went about this errand. A speedy youngster with a peppy scooter could make good time, but there was no guarantee that fetching the coveted item would be straightforward once she got there.
She didn't have a lot of time to choose, either; the others were already climbing aboard Brineybeard's vessel, one by one. “Granted!” he roared at Sakura, giving her leave to embark. For the average landlubber, setting foot aboard such an idyllic pirate ship tended to impart a difficult-to-suppress feeling of adventure. Visions of swashbuckling action and vagabond merriment came easily to mind, full of parrots and shanties and gold. The Captain, however, looked anything but happy, even after being saluted and thanked and asked permission. Nevertheless, Link asking him about his experiences opened the floodgates, and Brineybeard began yammering away with gusto as he went about readying the ship to weigh anchor. “Oh aye, lad! These gentle waves be nothin' like the Bottomless or the Shoal betwixt 'em, but we even gets 'em sonuvas 'round here time to time!” He spent most of his time gesticulating emphatically, making slow progress on preparations. “An' don't get me started on the stinkin' Black Fleet! As if dealin' with monsters wasn't bad enough, they're always comin' with their torpedoes 'n rotatin' cannons 'n such. How 'n the hell...”
Brineybeard faced Link as if demanding an answer from him. “Now, how 'n the hell's a traditional ship supposed to compete!? They ain't! Ol' Shippy here's one 'o the last real boats sailin' these waters.” He turned away, looked over his ship with pride, before cracking a grin. “Gahahah, but she be more than yer everyday rowboat! How else ye be thinkin' we stayed afloat? Avast, Shippy!”
He patted the railing with his hand, and the entire ship began to move. Ropes pulled themselves, hoisting sails and lifted barrels with jolly faces, and the anchor wheel turned steadily. The wood itself took on a state of constant flexing like the sides of a breathing animal. At the prow of the boat, two great big eyes opened wide to stare down at the heroes not yet on board. True to the captain's word, this was no ordinary watercraft. It was nothing less than a living thing.
The door to the cabin burst open, and a couple of
dogfish hustled out. They made a beeline for Brineybeard, who knelt down to stroke them. “Ohohoho, who're my rotten seadogs? Aye, they be you!” In no time at all the ship was ready to sail, and to ferry the heroes onward to Limsa.
After a moment Peach stopped marveling at the living pirate ship and began to make her way toward it. Scarcely had she taken her first step, however, than her wrist was seized by the woman in black. She pulled the princess close, close enough to see a pale face and cold eyes beneath her hood. “A corpse should be left well alone,” she murmured. “But the wrongness of this world demands you give ear to the secrets that beckon oh so sweetly. Like the siren to the sailors. Some never think to heed the warnings.” Glancing out at the ship and the other members of Blue Team, she gave a soft sigh. “I fear only a needless death will cure you now. Liberate you, from your wild curiosity.”
She released Peach, who pulled away. With a scowl the princess turned to leave, heading down the dock to the gangway for Brineybeard's ship. When she looked again, the stranger was gone, disappeared into a dark portal that sprang up from nothingness and vanished just as quickly.
Though caught in tricky and -by most metrics- untenable situations, Red Team's most proactive members prevailed against their individual assaults. Linkle's quick reflexes, battlefield experience, and potent display of cryomancy made short work of her assailants, no matter how vicious their weapons. Bowser survived his encounter with a lethal energy sword with all limbs intact thanks to Blazermate's intervention, first to shield him from harm and second to jump into the fight herself and wrench the blade free of the infested elite's grip. Even the Shockdozer's lightning failed to rupture the ubercharge, though the protection timed out shortly thereafter. A moment of invincibility was a comfort and and relief, but after that moment it was gone.
The others fought savagely against the Flood, desperately keeping them at arm's length. No sooner did one fall than two took its place, after all. Mag and Jak worked their weapons mercilessly to keep the twisted arms and claws of the horde off of them, but stray bullets from assault rifles and very targeted needles from
ranged forms that had clambered up into vantage points racked up steady damage. The same held true for Banjo, even if his 'weapon' had a mind of her own and his ammunition came from the Lumbridge cucco pen. None of them needed the black-coat's help to figure out that this fight wasn't winnable. They needed to go, and fortunately Bowser and Blazermate were in the middle of commandeering the team a way to break the deadly blockade.
With a little ripping and tearing, the pair took control of the Shockdozer, with the medabot even figuring out how to make use of its lightning gun to dispatch the troublesome infested Blastoise while Bowser struggled to keep the horde off. For a moment it seemed as though the Tentacruel might overwhelm the koopa king, but he managed to slash it to ribbons before bellowing for his subjects to get a move on. Banjo shoved aside incoming Flood with his lance before vaulting over to the Shockdozer in a daring maneuver. Mag and Jak made tracks, although the latter needed the coaxing of his little friend to avoid sinking some of his precious eco into the man whose hood had fallen down. “Now now,” the Italian teased. “You'll get your turn.” With that he was gone in a flash of blue light, nowhere to be seen. The next second Linkle's explosion scattered the Flood, giving her team the room they needed to push off and pick up some speed.
Outside the Argent Tower, the sundered avenue was thick with Flood. Seeing it instantly confirmed for the heroes that they made the right choice; if they stayed, they would have surely drowned beneath the tide of flesh. Anyone not piled onto the vehicle itself would need to move fast and keep close, lest they be left behind, or worse risk everyone dying in a rescue attempt. The Shockdozer proved incredibly useful, plowing straight through combat and infection forms, and barely even flinching when the swollen combat forms burst themselves into spores and wriggling things. Still, its relatively lackluster speed meant that the heroes needed to keep a constant look out for would-be boarders. Most combat forms of the Flood could really jump, and they tried relentlessly. Of all of them the skittering infectors climbed aboard the most often, and while a single hit could wipe one out, their tentacles would dig into flesh if given half a chance. If allowed to carve in and come into contact with a hero's spine, a single touch would cause instant nervous system failure and brain death.
As for direction, Blazermate knew where the group needed to go. To the south, across the patch of the city most thoroughly rearranged by seismic activity, the final Qliphoth root towered. At its base existed the boss whose death would open the way to the Qliphoth itself, and the chosen guardian of Galeem that existed within.
Even if the Flood were being outpaced, however, they weren't about to relent. Three combat forms riding chainsaw-equipped
slicecycles motored after the more sluggish Shockdozer, their biting blades able to take chunks out of armor, limb, and tire alike. If the tires popped, the heroes would be dead in the water. To make matters worse, more monsters were being drawn by the commotion. Winged vulture-like beasts, the
lerks, In addition to biting, they spread a poisonous gas as they flew. With the movement of the Shockdozer the gas wouldn't linger, but a faceful of the stuff in passing would not be pleasant.
After braving the radiation filled tunnels, each in their own way, the various daredevils wound up walking down a dimly-lit hall toward a set of double doors. When the Slayer pushed the doors wide, he gave his team a good look both at the control room and through the glass window to the generator itself. Wound around the main pylon to the point of subsuming it was the heart of the Super Gore Nest itself, an enormous, gruesome facsimile of a heart. Glowing blood filtered through its sacs to the tune of a deep beat, and from it both dangled fleshy tendrils and protruded nasty horns.
“This is the heart of the nest. It has taken root in this facility's main power generator. Reactivating the generator will destroy the nest,” Vega informed the group.
A terminal next to the Slayer featured a lever ripe for the pulling. Its use filled the air with the sound of electrical humming, and a readout on a control panel screen read 'fifty percent'. With no other lever in sight, however, the generator couldn't be turned on just yet. “Great, more looking around,” Nero snarked, looking down at the colored strips on the floor. They led through a door to the right and through a series of rooms. “Bet the other one's that way.” He went quiet as the telltale snarls and growls of demons reached the group through both halls, then sighed. “Think you can handle it? We'll hold down the fort.” With a shot from his revolver he shattered the glass window, creating a way into the generator room to turn it on once power was restored. Then he was obliged to give his full attention to his guests, for it didn't look like he'd be picking off fodder this time. He fixed his attention on the
guitar-wielding punk zombie, reminded of the guitar Nevan that Dante possessed and shortly thereafter sold a long time ago. That left a
demon with a tiger's head on its chest, which Nadia positioned herself to face off against, and a
long-legged gargoyle for Raidou. The three wasted no time getting down to business.
Meanwhile, on his quest to find the second lever, the Slayer ran into another familiar if unwelcome faces. The snake-tailed
Whiplash moved at high speed and with a low profile, slashing at him from afar. Alongside it came a revolting
thing, spiked and pulsating, crawling on misshapen horned legs as the purple tendrils it possessed instead of a a head whipped around wildly. However, a full armor pickup floated on the other side of the room.
