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Diabolical Incantation

Lvl 3 Grimm Zenkichi, Primrose, Lvl 9 Roxas
Word Count: 3,109


As any dedicated explorer of the Under -or indeed, the Kingdom of Hallownest- could attest, the subterranean realm generally became stranger and more exotic the deeper one went, but the Qliphoth seemed to be the opposite. The higher the Seekers climbed in their steady ascent toward the demon tree’s canopy, the denser this alien environment became. Up here the floodfestation zones were a terrible sight to behold, with entire sections of the trunk overgrown by rampant, hateful flesh, a cancer metastasized beyond any hope of removal. Yet the most powerful demons lurked up here as well, an elite cadre of inglorious devils risen from the seven hells to safeguard this stronghold on the World of Light’s surface, varied in power and form but united in common purpose. And as Grimm sliced his way out of a bloodstream to set foot in a broad cylindrical hollow lined with iridescent oil-black stone, it was one such horror that his scarlet eyes witnessed.

At first blush, it loosely resembled the spawn of some gargantuan bird, a gangly hatchling yet to grow feathers with a disproportionately large head. But its skin was yellowish brown, scaled, its head further distended as if by bloated tumors within. Inside its beak lay rows of rotten human teeth, and all over its body -but especially its wings- twitched what might have been bony fingers or arachnid legs. Yet as horrid as this was, that wasn’t all. Atop its back lay a handful of crystalline spires that ringed an arcane vortex like the contents of a swirling cauldron, and over the diabolical brew loomed a clustered trio of pale, feminine bodies, clothed only in pitch-black hair, with only one arm per torso and ritualistic marks on their faces. At the intrusion, the three heads turned, followed shortly by that of the nightmarish bird-thing. “Some manner of insect. Uninfected, too. I smell a strange, dark magic on you…”

”Well met. I am Grimm, master of the Troupe beckoned by the nightmare flame.” The newcomer bowed dramatically, a claw held over his heart and the other extended sideways. ”And I have come in search of kindling. A fine stage this is, your towering kingdom fallowed by worm and blight. Let us light it, a funeral pyre, ignited by the passionate heat of our dance.” He held out his hand, as if beckoning the creature to come and take it.

The demon spread her claws wide, leering at the dancers, detective, and nobody. “A dance, is it? Know then that you stand in the presence of Malphas, and the mightest sorceries of hell! I will squash you -all of you- like the bugs that you are!”



Wiping the bloody xylem from his body, Zenkichi slumped his shoulders a little when he realized they were in for another fight- because obviously they would be in for another fight, it’d be too easy otherwise. Ragnell appeared in his hand as he looked at his companions for this battle- Roxas, the bug guy from Meridi-At-Han whose name he didn’t remember or didn’t catch, and Primrose. Not a bad squad, all things considered, he thought. Instead of Preservation Protocol, though, this time he set up Restoration Protocol. The double-buffing was useful, but with Primrose here, he could buff and heal the whole squad at once, which might prove invaluable. ”Alright, giant chicken demon lady. That’s new.”

For Roxas, the only Seeker here he was particularly familiar with was Zenkichi. But that wasn’t going to stop him from helping them take down this demon lady person. ”Wish I could say it was new to me.” Roxas quipped in response to the Phantom Thief’s comment. Even before Galeem, Roxas had certainly seen and fought his share of bizarre enemies. Nevertheless, the Nobody brandished his Keyblades and got to work. The first thing he did was cast Tailwind on everyone present, including himself.

Then he used his StepSword to instantaneously move himself to a position to strike at one of the upper torsos from behind with the ignited energy blade and try to follow that with a quick series of Keyblade strikes.

It's like every horror in the area has come to take shelter in this tree, Primrose thought as she was freed from the vein only to find herself immediately staring yet down another monstrosity. Though for all she knew the Qliphoth had been like this the whole time. The dancer's eyes flickered over to the teammates she now found herself with, meeting each of their eyes (or in one's case, their mask) to signal that whatever they were in for, she was ready for it.

She did want to try out the mysterious reward she'd gotten after the last battle, but in the crucial opening moments of this one Primrose also chose to empower her allies. She'd seen a little of Grimm at work in Meridi-at-Han, had noticed the boy Roxas cast a spell or two, and knew that Zenkichi possessed some magic of his own... so she swiftly decided on her first performance, kicking things off with a dance most literal. The Peacock Strut, with motions as bold and confident as they were elegant, would increase the power of a Seeker's magical and elemental skills - but with just a few extra moments the effect spread to every one of them.

When the nobody had taken a second to cast, Malphas prepared herself as well. The uppermost torso jabbed two fingers forward and unleashed a wave of purple spikes toward her challengers. That naturally wouldn’t trouble Roxas, but the other two had waved their hands to conjure three murky orbs apiece, which hovered briefly in the air. After Roxas flashed with a flurry of blows, all six orbs launched his way as dark magic lances, and the bird itself stepped forward in order to whirl around. Luckily for Roxas he was quick enough on the draw - thanks to Tailwind - to generate a small platform of virtual cubes to plant his feet on in addition to a chest high wall in front of him he could crouch behind to try and avoid the lances - or at the very least slow them down or blunt them. Four crashed against the wall, but two shot down at a high enough angle to strike him.

Grimm took advantage of the distraction to use a little magic of his own. He flung wide his cape, releasing first the Grimmchild, then three firebats that hurtled through the air to blast the hatchling’s face. The next moment, though, he was forced to dodge the incoming spikes with a quick, low scuttle to the side. To his surprise the spikes curved to track him, fast enough to catch him with painful jabs from below, but it would take a lot more than that to put the Troupe Master down. He did not happen to see the uppermost torso as her extended fingers traced his path, but as Malphas turned her back he began to run forward.

With only her dagger as a means to deal physical damage, Primrose had to largely stick with her spells - though she'd known that going into the mission this morning, and as such was fine leaving her allies with the getting up close and personal. As the wave of spikes extended towards them Primrose leapt, floating up until they passed under her, and prepared to join in on the offensive. Though this demon claimed to be a powerful sorceress, she hoped it did not have some measure of magic resistance... She called upon her Moonlight Waltz to test it, even as she began to conjure Luna in her free hand. The swirl of darkness took shape to fall upon the demon's center mass, soon to be followed by silvery moonlight.

Summoning Ragnell, Zenkichi ran straight towards the multi-bodied demon, rolling to dodge the wave of spikes coming his way Much like they did with Grimm, the spikes curved to pierce his side, forcing a grunt of pain out of the Phantom Thief, who rolled his eyes. Of course they were seeking projectiles. Oh well, he'd have to either knock them out of the sky or block them next time. As soon as he got within range, he swung Ragnell a few times, launching blasts of explosive energy at Malphas.

Just as the demon delivered a monstrously powerful peck that shattered the ruby-red cubes and threw Roxas to the floor, its legs and back took a handful of empowered elements. The chick uttered a horrid squawk as it looked back, its eyeless face bulging, then lifted one leg. Two of Malphas’ torsos snapped their fingers, conjuring dark swirls by both Zenkichi and herself, and when the chick thrust its limb into one a taloned kick extended from the other to stamp down on the detective from above. Grimm dashed past him while this happened, but once the leg retracted all three of Malphas’ torsos worked together to manifest a huge portal directly above herself, into which the demon promptly disappeared.

After a second, more portals began to appear around the Seekers. In quick succession the bird’s leg or head burst through each one, each hard and fast strike delivered from an odd angle with only a moment’s notice. In the chaos, Grimm only narrowly avoided a full-force peck, sprayed by oily shards kicked up from the impact point, then committed to constant motion in order to stay ahead of the demon’s assault. A few seconds later, a large portal opened on the other side of the arena and Malphas drifted out sideways, quickly sliding to a stop.

Zenkichi was caught off guard by the kick from above, which knocked him to the ground, groaning. Once he picked himself up, he saw the many portals appearing around them, and resorted to the ancient art of rolling around like a madman, leaping and diving away from talons and beaks as they launched out of the portal. Even with his desperate dodging, he was clipped by more than one hit, though the glancing blows were far from lethal.

Primrose continued to keep her distance and cast her own magic - though unfortunately she'd learned that staying out of melee range would not protect her from that deformed chick's melee attacks. The portal barrage had taken her completely off guard, and the first strike from the thing's beak she'd suffered had been a rough one. She abandoned her offensive to devote herself to evasion as the attack continued, patching herself up by placing the flame of Warmth at her bleeding side. After several close calls the portals closed, and Primrose summoned her Makami in retaliation.

"Tarunda!" she ordered, and the willowy wolf flew towards Malphas to deliver its debuff to the demon's strength.

After those lances caught him, Roxas wasn’t able to react in time to avoid getting thrown down to the floor by the initial peck attack. But he recovered quick enough and was back on his feet, only to find that Malphas was no longer nearby. She’d used some kind of portal to move to the other side of the arena. ”You’re not getting away from us!” Roxas shouted, already locking onto the demon lady before he, too, vanished.

He reappeared once again directly above Malphas’ flank where he struck with the energy blade of his StepSword. But rather than continue attacking, he conjured up a fresh formation of virtual cubes that he pushed himself off of in order to launch himself down to the ground, hoping that his blocks would help protect him from the trajectory of any more dark lances. And as soon as his feet were back on the ground? He summoned Kayano - who used her mysterious powers to instantly pull the Nobody’s allies to his location while simultaneously pushing him backward toward theirs. Plus they all got a nice attack boost as a bonus. All Roxas had to do after that was use his StepSword again and he was immediately back into the thick of the fray.

In reply Malphas cast with all three hands to unleash a huge cone of purple spikes, into which the nobody’s allies were dragged. Grimm, at least, managed to react in time and launch himself skyward with a scything uppercut. Though it allowed him to evade the spikes it fell well short of Malphas herself, until he teleported while in the air, which released a rain of four large fireballs. Their descent preceded his reappearance on the demon’s other side, opposite Roxas. He joined in the assault with two floating claw swipes, followed by a brisk divekick.

At the same time Primrose prepared her latest spell. It was a potent one with a longer casting time, but when the crystals shot forward again Primrose trusted her Baldur Shell to protect her. The purple spikes crashed against the shell, and though it shattered it had succeeded in preventing the spikes from reaching her. The three masses of shadows she'd conjured shot forward then, her Dirge of Dusk twisting through the air towards the demon's trio of humanoid bodies.

Going from dodging like a madman to being pulled into a wall of spikes was not Zenkichi's idea of a great time, though in this case he managed to pull up Ragnell in time to block, or more accurately, deflect a couple of spikes out of his way as he narrowly avoided the rest. ”There's just no end to this, huh?!” he complained, launching a few blasts of light with Ragnell before calling for Valjean. ”Fine, then. Valjean, Triple Down!” In his experience, birdlike things didn't fare too well when presented with gun damage, and the healing burst that flowed out from him thanks to Preservation Protocol was a nice addition, as well.

Roxas was not happy seeing what he had accidentally dragged his fellow Seekers into, to say the least. He thought he was giving them an edge by giving them a means to press their attacks while simultaneously being buffed, but instead it looked more like he’d just thrown them against a wall. After his initial reappearance in the aftermath of his StepSword attack, Roxas generated a collection of scattered virtual cubes that he could launch himself between with flow motion. That kept the Keybearer himself out of the barrage of spikes on the ground. But it also put him in a position to be right in Malphas’ line of sight. For now all he could do was keep zipping between cubes and try to get in fly-by slashes. Maybe if he could harass Malphas enough it might create a window for some of the others to capitalize on with their attack boost from Kayano.

While Roxas and Grimm’s empowered attacks helped soften Malphas up, and Primrose’s tenebrous magic dealt respectable damage, it was the amped-up Triple Down that tipped the scales. When the magic bullets hit the head bird itself, rather than the demon torsos, the malformed hatchling shrieked and slumped to the ground with a massive slam. It could only write feebly as it lay there in a heap, despite Malphas’ best efforts to coax her lesser half into action. “Up, up!” she seethed. Knowing that she was a sitting duck right now better than anyone, she began to cast more orbs in a desperate attempt to keep the Seekers at bay.

With this chance presented to them, Primrose moved swiftly to make the most of it. She danced around the magic orbs flung their way, moving up slightly if only to make sure her aim would be true.

"Lights out!" she said, conjuring a large inky black lance. It hovered in the air for a moment before stabbing through the air at a harsh downward angle to skewer Malpha's triplet body. In addition to the strike itself and the waves of damaging darkness that would waft out from its impact point, it would make her allies more likely to land a critical hit.

Seeing the opportunity, Roxas wasn’t about to let it go to waste. He pushed himself from a virtual cube and launched himself down toward the toppled Malphas and stabbed both Keyblades into her with all the explosive momentum he’d built up from his previous uses of Flow Motion. Then he followed that up with a Cross Slash that then led into a flurry of rapid Keyblade strikes. And since his feet were touching the ground, Roxas decided to generate a bunch of virtual blocks right on top of the demon for good measure, since they would deal constant touch damage to anyone other than himself that touched them.

Perhaps still sore from those spikes earlier, Grimm decided to lend a hand by repaying the favor. He plunged the tips of his cape into the ground, and after a second or so, they shot up from the ground beneath Malphas to pierce her hideous lower half from beneath. His Grimmchild joined in with a little scarlet spitfire as well.

Zenkichi also rushed in, barely taking time to dodge the magic attack Malphas had launched, powering through to take advantage of her vulnerability. When he reached her body, he lifted Ragnell into the air, fire accumulating around the blade. As the flames reached their peak, he thrust the blade into the ground, a series of fiery explosions emanating out from where the holy sword hit the floor.

This time, luck was on the Seekers’ side. The Eruption from Ragnell inflicted a critical hit, explosively launching the entire demon off the ground. She smashed through the blocks left by Roxas to add insult to injury, then arced through the air in a majestic backflip before the demonic hatchling slammed back down. Grimm could hardly avert his eyes from the spectacle, convinced that no living thing could survive a spectacle like that, but to the Troupe Master’s surprise Malphas somehow galvanized the bird into action. It staggered to its feet in a berserk rage, the swellings on its head pulsating abominably, and filled the hollow with a brain-rattling shriek. To Grimm, it looked like the parasitical demoness had just lost control.

Primrose got the same impression. She breathed in deeply, slowly backing away from the demon toward a stretch of flat, solid ground from which to resume her casting. If the lower half was crazed, the battle would become all the more chaotic. Either way, they were in for it now.

Zenkichi jumped back from the screaming monster, pulling Ragnell up into a more guarded stance as his ears rang.

Roxas tightened his grip on his Keyblades. He knew an incoming phase two when he saw it. And this? This was definitely just the beginning.
Dethroning the King of Rock

Edelgard von Hresvelg & Roland
Word count: 2,282 words (+3)


”Would that be a stroke of fortune, or merely our demise? I mean no offense to your skill, but I doubt the two of us alone would be sufficient to take on a Guardian, if the threat they pose has not been overstated by the others. Edelgard replied casually to Roland, trying to size up the utterly massive zombie before them. Given that they could only see the upper third or so of it, their enemy's scale was unprecedented for her. Even Absalom was not this large.

”Probably not with these abnormalities, no.” Roland said, giving his own banter, still, it didn’t help you in a fight to lose your nerve upon seeing an enemy like this. Granted, this thing was HUGE, usually things in the City didn’t get this bad or big.. Usually. ”But we should probably be careful with this thing, let's just hope his size makes him slow.”

”Indeed. Edelgard hefted her shield and began approaching, as Killabilly began launching zombies their way. ”Great. He means to slow us with mere fodder. Let us dispatch these distractions and make haste.” Edelgard sighed, stepping forward to crush a zombie beneath her axe as the arena slowly filled with easily-slain zombies.

Roland meanwhile really didn’t have much time to deal with these small things and let this giant charge up some kind of super attack or something and pulled out Gold Rush, equipping the EGO of a giant spiked golden gauntlet. This turned Roland into a caped warrior king while turning the whole area into an opulent throne room of golden pillars. Portals appeared in front and behind every zombie as well as Killabilly and Roland reared back and punched forward, zooming through each portal as if it was a straight line and smacking every zombie that couldn’t defend itself with his mighty gauntlet the size of his torso and gaining strength for every successful zombie hit. This ended with a punch on Killabilly who just took the punch in the stomach and didn’t seem all that phased, Roland clashing but failing and getting knocked away from a retaliatory hit from the big guy.

Edelgard gaped at Roland's attack, but quickly shook off her shock and ran forward towards Killabilly, who was quick to react to his successful defense against the Fixer. He laughed and swiped his hand at the pair, a trio of cadillacs appearing from nowhere and launching forward, threatening to bowl them over and crush them with sheer momentum.

Edelgard planted her feet in defiance, hefting her shield and roaring angrily. She pivoted stance slightly as the cadillac struck, and the bone-tingling shriek of metal on metal sounded out as the projectile vehicle deflected off of her shield, though not without having pushed her back a solid five feet. Bones aching and breath heavy, Edelgard cast a Heal spell to revitalize herself before advancing once more.

”Phew, thanks!” Roland said. Having done a large amount of damage to Roland’s current fighting partner, a mark that looked like a serpentine eye appeared over Killabilly making him the “villain”. All attacks from this point forward would be doing a bit of extra damage to him and healing whoever was lowest a bit upon successful landing of the attack. And with how big he is and how he was throwing CARS now, that would probably be necessary.

Speaking of attacks, Roland went in for a few more, using his giant two handed sword to cut a car in half before successfully striking Hillabilly with it. Although his followups of single swordplay didn’t play out as well as his sword was blocked or deflected and the exchange would end up with Roland riding on top of a car towards Edelgard, shooting a farewell shotgun blast before hopping off and doing a tumble to the ground.

Getting up from the ground, Roland decided to use a few ranged attacks to see what Edelgard could do. He did have something in his back pocket, but he doubted it’d finish this thing in one go.

Having been forced to leap to the side to avoid the second car, Edelgard stood up and shook her head before rushing forward again. This monster was a nuisance! The sheer weight behind the cars he was throwing could not simply be ignored, and if she tried to deflect them all like the first one, she'd wind up being ground down before too long. Even her prodigious durability couldn’t stand up to several thousand-pound vehicles being flung into her.

Reaching one of Killabilly’s hands laid upon the platform they were standing upon, Edelgard brought Aymr down on his finger, feeling and hearing the crack of bone as her ax shattered the joint it hit. Tearing free the blade, she swung again, this hit slicing clear through the flesh and severing the digit. In retaliation, Killabilly roared in pain, lifting his hand from the platform and slamming his incredibly long tongue down like a whip, attempting to slam into Edelgard and sending her to her knees. However Roland dashed up and clashed with the tongue using his daggers, able to parry it and cancel the attack out thanks to Intemperance making it so Roland couldn't’ fail the clash protecting his ally.

”So whats the plan?” Roland said to Edelgard, still figuring out what they could do and how they could work together to take this giant zombie down.

”I had been planning to carve his hands to pieces so we could render him unable to attack, but he appears to be regenerating his finger as we speak.” Edelgard reported and, true to her words, Killabilly’s finger was already regrowing. ”We will need to make an opportunity to deal damage so severe that it leaves him vulnerable until it is regenerated. Perhaps his head?”

”Alright, I’ll try to get an opening for you to do some serious damage. You’ll know the signal when you see it.” Roland said. Now, getting the attention of something wasn’t really something he did, but even Killabilly would see this. Starting first with a shot from his rifle to make sure Killlabilly was paying attention, Roland used his other EGO page, In the Name of Love and Hate, and adorned himself in a strange pink winged snake humanoid outfit, while behind him appeared a giant heart shaped portal and the arena temporarily changed to a cityscape with a bright purple fog rolling in. Although getting Killabilly’s attention like this lead to a situation Roland wasn’t expecting as Killabilly fired a laser from his mouth at Roland as Roland unleashed his EGO attack, which was also a massive laser from said heart portal causing both lasers to clash and struggle against each other keeping the attention of both participants for a short time.

Edelgard had to force herself not to think on just how strange this man and his powers were, instead attacking Killabilly’s arm with Flickering Flower to distract and stun him for a few moments. Her axe carved into his palm as the crest of Seiros flared, boosting the Ability’s power further. With a few seconds to act, she climbed onto the titanic zombie’s arm and pointed at his face, casting Fire to launch a ball of flames at his face.

Roland meanwhile didn’t have anything flashy left, at least not yet. Although once he hit the zombie with his hammer, he finally had something useful. Much like Edelgard, he went for the head, and after having used 9 different weapons from his attacks, he used Furioso. With Edelgard having his attention, Roland was able to strike the zombie with a long, flashy combo involving all 9 of his used weapons dealing a hefty chunk of damage and keeping the zombie stunned for a moment for Edelgard to followup with something that should hopefully help put this thing down.

Edelgard, unfortunately, did not have much left to fire off. Instead, she used the time he was stunned to further scale his body until she reached his shoulder, where she embedded Aymr into his collarbone, the sound of bone breaking filling the arena. She roared and hefted her axe again, this time slamming her shield into the wound left by her weapon, pushing against it like a prybar. Killabilly roared as he started to regain his senses, and brought his other arm up to grab Edelgard from his shoulder, squeezing onto her roughly. For now, her armor held, but it wouldn’t last forever.

Roland himself was mostly out of big tricks, so all he could do was build himself up again. A couple tricks he did have though were some of his new powers. First, pulling out the ink brush he got from absorbing one spirit, he threw a glob of ink at Edelgard which would soon explode in an eruption of ink tentacles to free her from Killabilly’s grip, then summoned another ink glob which turned into a vengeful spirit familiar to Roland which went after Killabilly’s throat and made him unable to use his laser. The other thing he had to help was an attempt to possibly cut off his arm with an enhanced massive two hander buffed by his other spirit right at the shoulder. Unlike Edelgard, Roland was much more agile and able to move around Killabilly, which was probably why he went after his companion. And with Killabilly having a bit of trouble dealing with Roland, he started to build up his Furioso again by using his lance, daggers, and sword on Killabilly’s head to rip his eyes out and make the fight much easier.

The exploding glob of ink managed to pry Killabilly’s hand open just enough for Edelgard to brace herself against his palm and lop off a pair of fingers, affording her escape. She climbed over his hand and back to his shoulder, slamming Aymr into the titanic zombie’s neck like a lumberjack to a tree. Roland’s attack to the wounded shoulder did not quite remove Killabilly’s arm, but it did deepen the wound even further, exposing part of the zombie’s undead chest cavity, revealing what looked like a hollow within. ”There! We may be able to strike more permanently from inside!” She called, dragging Aymr through and out Killabilly’s neck. ”While I have his attention, deal the mortal blow!”

”Eww, this sucks.” Roland said, not all that interested in getting inside this bloody thing but if that was the only way to kill it… Roland sighed, got his swords out, and went to town carving up the inside hollow of Killabilly. All while cursing at how disgusting it was. Usually he tried to stay out of the gullet of things, not go into one, but there was some weird glow in here, and a lot of flesh tentacle things. Nothing too big that Roland couldn’t cut through with his swords and various weapons, but it upped the gross factor by quite a lot. A gross factor that caused him to get hit a couple times by said tentacles as he was a bit more apprehensive about them than he should’ve been.

It took a bit, but eventually Roland found his way through the hollow flesh to some kind of corpse tied to a heart. Roland could only guess this was the weak point, and he was done with dealing with this whole thing, so he started carving and shooting up this accursed creature’s heart. In doing so, he gained Emotion level 5 at some point during his trek through the giant zombies innards and gained Acidic Sludge, granted its voice was only heard by Roland. This was probably a poor time to trigger such an effect, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise as the wave of highly corrosive acidic sludge drenched the core of Killabilly and made it much, much easier to hack away. It didn’t take long until Edelgard could see Killabilly starting to glow, and with a poof of page and a wisp of light, Roland was in mid air holding a book of Killabilly.

With a bit of a stumbling landing roll, Roland got back up on his feet and faced Edelgard. ”Funny thing, I got the feeling this isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this. But I can’t remember the first time… It makes me sick thinking about it though.” He said, not having come out of his little impromptu internal adventure unscathed, covered in weird fluids, a couple tentacle smacks visible, and overall just not in a good mood.

With the defeat of the boss of this area, an additional reward was offered to Roland. A series of 3 items appeared before him. Ares' Aid, Decaying Implosion, Lone Ranger.. Roland wasn’t sure what did what, nor was he really familiar with the name of the named item, so seeing as they were all the same to him, he grabbed Decaying Implosion. Upon doing so, he was blessed with a power, with the other 2 options disappearing. ”Huh, wonder what that is about.” Roland said, a bit confused. ”Also, where do we go now?”

Edelgard, having spent the time Roland was inside Killabilly fending off his feeble attempts at grabbing her again, also saw the three cards appear before her. Carefully considering her options, she chose the one that made her spells more versatile.



”Thank you for finishing that vile…thing…off. From here, I suppose we find another vein to traverse, and head deeper within.” With Killabilly gone, the pair could see a series of platforms behind and under where his torso had been, leading to a more fleshy section of the Qliphoth, this part less severely impacted by the Floodfestation. ”I believe that will be our means of egress.”
Finders Keepers

Lvl 14 Geralt (70/140) and Lvl 9 Goldlewis (69/90)
Word Count: 4163 (+5)


To any ordinary man, the burly brute at the other end of the hall would have been a daunting opponent. The silently menacing, faceless Keeper made his size and strength plain to see with no need for words, offering no preamble for the showdown about to take place beyond an old-fashioned declaration of war, the din of metal mallet against uncrackable safe an ancient battle cry. In this man, however, Goldlewis saw a worthy opponent. He couldn’t say why a warrior neither demonic nor infested in origin might be here, or why the Qliphoth’s immense interior housed remnants of Redgraccoon City, but he knew there was no avoiding this fight. And thanks to the floodfested horde down below, the veteran was all warmed up.

Still, Goldlewis knew that pride comes before the fall. He suspected that fighting in cramped underground corridors would prove tricky, preventing him from fighting at his preferred range. If he couldn’t swing around his coffin or bust out his weapons, he’d just have to rely on the shotgauntlets from Jack-5. But with Geralt at his back, more powerful and more in control than in their last shared encounter, the Secretary of Absolute Defense felt rather confident. It was time to see what this masked maniac was made of.

As they drew closer in the hallway, both titans picked up speed until they were barreling toward one another like runaway freight trains. Goldlewis kept his eyes on the Keeper’s giant meat tenderizer, but at the last moment his opponent reached for his belt with his right hand and pulled out a large burlap sack, red with blood and bulbous with shapes that didn’t bear thinking about. As the killer whirled it like a flail, the basement’s sparse lighting glinted off hooks, spikes, and orbitoclasts protruding from the coarse fabric. Luckily, the chain on the veteran’s coffin afforded him a bit more range. Swinging vertically, Goldlewis unleashed a forward-down-back Behemoth Typhoon for speed and range. Coffin met sack with a hefty impact, as well as some sickening crunches from within the sack itself, but if the Behemoth Typhoon clipped the Keeper, he barely seemed to flinch. Instead he brandished his hammer for a follow-up but Goldlewis wasn’t done either. He used his Security Gauge to keep the pain train rolling, his coffin a meteor hammer as it pounded the Keeper’s guard with two more Behemoth Typhoons, the final revolution ending in an up-forward-down overhead. Yet somehow, despite all that punishment, the Keeper weathered it all. The moment after the assault ended, he struck back, lunging forward to knock Goldlewis sideways with a disorienting blow from the edge of his hammer, then wallop him against the wall with a mallet smash to the chest.

Geralt kept close to Goldlewis, giving the large man enough room to maneuver with his strange coffin-flail in the rather tight hallways they’d found themselves in. The Keeper looked to be little more than a deranged killer with neck muscles anybody would be jealous of, but Geralt knew better than to judge this book by its bloody cover. Keeping his twinblade at the ready, he cast the Sign of Quen to shield himself as the combatants met, Goldlewis outranging the Keeper but failing to prevent its own attacks once his were finished.

Strange enough, though Geralt didn’t let that slow him down. Immediately after Goldlewis was battered to the side, he lunged forward with the Hydro weapon, applying the Wet status and dealing a similarly negligible amount of damage. He turned, bringing the dual-bladed weapon around for a slash to the body, as the Keeper completely ignored Geralt’s attack and slammed its bloody sack into Geralt’s chest. The Witcher grunted a little from the blow but was similarly unphased, and took a step back to utilize his weapon’s greater range, thrusting the twinblade like a spear and trying to keep its attention. “Takes hits like a proper Fiend.” Geralt sighed.

“Grrah!” Given a moment to recover from his brush with the Keeper’s massive meat tenderizer, Goldlewis took advantage of his foe’s focus on Geralt to charge in for a full-bodied tackle. His opponent might be big, but few men were bigger than Goldlewis Dickinson. With his head down and his arms locked around the maniac’s middle, the veteran pushed him from one side of the hall to the other, and when the Keeper’s back hit the wall the clang of his safe against the bricks left him dazed for just a split second. Goldlewis straightened up to go for his trademark throw, a triple headbutt straight to the safe’s metal door, but the steel didn’t yield and its wire-covered surface left Goldlewis both stunned and scratched in turn. The Keeper pushed him off, then swung his hammer with the railroad spike on the other end forward. With a grunt, Goldlewis managed to clamp his hand around the weapon and stop the spike an inch from his temple, then use his other hand to unleash a point-blank blast from his shotgauntlet. Once again the blow barely registered, but it annoyed the Keeper enough to give up on the hammer blow and just shove Goldlewis back the way he came. He stumbled a few heavy, headlong steps toward Geralt, unable to stop his momentum. The veteran would be hitting the ground in two seconds; the only question was whether or not he inadvertently took the Witcher with him.

Geralt jumped back as Goldlewis stumbled his way, the Keeper following close behind. He jumped over his fallen ally and swung at the monstrous purser, putting his momentum and strength into the blow. He could be moved, evidently, but it required physical manipulation. Geralt was many things, but a grappler was not one of them. True to the previous hits, the Keeper did not budge, retaliating with a swing of its mallet which forced Geralt to dodge sideways, pressing himself against the wall of the hallway. He quickly lifted his hand to draw the Sign of Igni, a blast of flames exploding out and hitting the Keeper, triggering a Vaporize reaction to further harm their seemingly-invincible foe.

Just after a loud noise announced the veteran’s inevitable rendezvous with the floor somewhere behind Geralt, the elemental fire and water applied to the Keeper mixed in an explosive burst of steam. By now all the punishment he’d taken surely had to be adding up, but even after all the hits he’d taken so far, the Keeper barely seemed scratched. His brawny frame pushed through the suspense-inducing steam cloud with a heavy shoulder barge, extinguishing the Witcher’s hope. The impact shunted Geralt back into the room he and Goldlewis started in, but his comrade had the good sense to get out of the way as he gained his feet, so that Geralt didn’t tumble over him. The two men shared a look as the Keeper hammered his safe once more, then spread out, glad to be out of the hallway’s cramped confines. “We’re missin’ somethin’,” Goldlewis grumbled. Since his coffin lay in the hallway, he wearily put up his dukes. He’d seen various techniques that could soak a hit or two, but being uninterruptible at all times was beyond the pale. “I’m mighty keen to find out what.”

Faced with two targets, the Keeper chose Geralt, but Goldlewis had something he wanted to try. As his enemy raised his bloody sack, the veteran stepped out into a crouching stance, then rose with a knee strike to the Keeper’s gut. Naturally the bruiser shrugged it off, but Goldlewis canceled his Machine Press into his new Gamma Howl technique, flexing in a hunched-forward stance. This time Goldlewis was the one to absorb a technique, plowing through the gruesome flail in a burst of energy–Particle Barrier. The Keeper didn’t flinch either, but the shockwave pushed him back, confused and primed for a follow-up from Geralt.

Geralt had taken the time, now that they were in a larger arena, to draw a more powerful weapon that required a little more room to work with: the Hateful Flesh. As Goldlewis knocked back the Keeper, throwing it off balance and off guard, Geralt leapt forward, crashing the Siderite blade into its body and sending the Keeper reeling. It fell to its knees, and the safe on its head opened, revealing bloody flesh and its disgusting, disfigured visage. “Huh.” The Witcher simply remarked, hefting the Hateful Flesh and crashing it into the Keeper’s face, sending a spray of thick blood flying. “Goldlewis, hit it! Now!” He called, taking a step back to shift Identities.



Instead of the LCCB Assistant Manager form with its riot shield and pistol, however, Geralt transformed into something new. Rather than the heavy armor, he was now adorned with a tight black wetsuit, with a single chestplate to protect him. Attached to his arm was a strange device with a harpoon blade, and a heavy tank rested upon his back. “This is new…” He muttered. Goldlewis had grabbed the safe with his left hand and begun to pummel the meat with his right. He glanced back to see the Witcher’s new gear, especially the enormous pile bunker on his arm. That thing looked like it could pierce a cargo ship’s hull, so he figured it ought to ‘fix’ the Keeper just fine. Goldlewis pulled away to give Geralt the chance, his ears covered, and with a guttural cry the Witcher punched the harpoon in and let it rip.

WHAM!

In a burst of murky viscera the safe went flying, parted cleanly from its shoulders. It hurtled down the hall and hit the ground, clanging noisily as it rolled and bounced. The body of the Keeper quickly and unceremoniously faded out, and the battlefield became eerily silent.

Goldlewis let out a heavy sigh. So, their opponent didn’t take real damage until knocked down, but it was open season once they cracked that safe. He wanted to be happy that he and Geralt cracked the case, but the veteran had a sinking feeling. “Y’know, as rough as that was, I reckon it was still too easy.”

As if in reply, a static sound resounded through the hollow. For the second time, reality seemed to shift, overtaken by a sepia tone as movements began to blur and skip. Behind the two Seekers, next to the burst blood vessel they came from, the second safe began to rise. When Goldlewis looked back down the hallway, he saw the first safe doing the same. When the anomaly subsided, the men were faced by two Keepers, one in front and one behind.

Goldlewis shook his head in curt disappointment, then held out his hand. “UMA!” His coffin cracked open, and a long, slender, cosmic arm reached out. Once it grabbed him, it used him as leverage to slide the coffin over, then retreated inside as Goldlewis lifted it up. “Looks like we got ourselves another round, partner.”

The Keepers clanged their hammers against their safes and advanced on the Seekers with wet, plodding steps.

“Had to open your mouth.” Geralt joked, rolling his shoulders. “No point crowding each other out. Just call out if we need a hand, I suppose.” He advised, stepping forward to meet the Keeper that had just emerged. He had little to no experience with the kind of weapon he found himself with in this new Identity, but that explosive attack it had launched just moments ago was hard to pass up against an enemy like this. The only problem he'd have until it was downed was its pitiful range, but that could be worked around with other abilities he had.

True to form, he unleashed a quick Demon Fang, the energy racing along the ground and ineffectually crashing into the advancing Keeper. As it advanced, Geralt drew the Sign of Yrden in the air, creating its Area Trap to slow the Keeper if it trudged forward mindlessly.

It did, though the slowing effect was not quite as great as Geralt expected it to be, causing the Witcher to curse quietly and run in, stabbing the pile bunker at the Keeper with a weak attack before stepping back out of the way of a sluggish counter-attack. It had taken a few moments to prime before, and that whistling sound he remembered gave a vague idea that keeping it in that state for long would end poorly. The Keeper paused inside the slowing field, drawing a pair of discs as if from nowhere and throwing them onto the ground, almost in the center of the room. From their shape and the way they settled quite firmly on the ground, Geralt could tell they were not grenades, but what they were he wasn't quite sure. “Some kind of trap, watch your step.” he called out to Goldlewis.

At the same time, Goldlewis made the most of the greater distance between himself and the revived first Keeper. With his Security Level at max, he whipped out his Skyfish minigun to rattle off a barrage of fifty-one 7.62×51mm NATO rounds at a low angle. While their damage was negligible, the Keeper couldn’t armor through them at this range, so he assumed a guard posture to block the barrage. Goldlewis could practically see his foe’s RISC building up, ensuring that once he finally did break through the Keeper’s defense, the payoff would be sweet. Unfortunately he couldn’t rinse and repeat this little trick, since the UMA needed time to refill the gun’s ammo and any more salvos from Skyfish would be anemic until it did. As he relinquished the gun into the cryptid’s care, however, Goldlewis had an idea. Even if Geralt was focused on the other Keeper, the veteran wasn’t completely alone in this fight.

“Marduk!” he barked, which manifested an old soldier with long white hair and an even longer cannon. “Blow ‘em straight to hell!” His striker obeyed in silence, calling in a drone that zipped down the hall to conduct an area bombardment. The Keeper swatted at the drone as it buzzed overhead, only noticing the grenades bouncing around the tight space when they began to detonate. Then he vanished in an uproarious clusterbomb of pure physical force, compounded by the corridor’s confines. The destruction not only demolished the basement walls but took chunks out of the Qliphoth flesh beyond it. By the time the fireworks died down and the smoke started to clear, Goldlewis could see an open area almost as big as the room he and Geralt stood in–as well as the Keeper, still standing amidst all the rubble.

“Tsk.” Made aware of the other Keeper’s traps by Geralt despite his ringing ears, Goldlewis decided to leave the area and take the fight to his opponent before he could back into a concertina bomb. He shouldered his coffin and marched forward once more, but not before firing off Kamael’s Circle of Life to soften his Keeper up.

Geralt watched the traps that the Keeper had thrown down for another moment, before following Goldlewis's lead and putting some distance between himself and them. The Keeper wasn't bothered by that at all, still trudging on silently, so Geralt kept it between him and the traps, while making some room transform again.

This time, he chose the Ardor Blossom Identity. While the extra size wasn't necessarily ideal in these cramped quarters, he needed a big hit to put this thing in a more vulnerable state. Other than the Molar Boatworks Fixer Identity he'd just unlocked, he was somewhat lacking in that front compared to the others. His Strikers were also more on the side of harassment or dealing many lighter hits, with the exception of the Judicator, itself more of a supporting summon than a damage-dealer.

Geralt didn't have much difficulty running circles around the Keeper, flinging fireballs every second or so to keep it burning and slowly charging his larger attack. After a few cycles of dodging around mallet and bludgeon swipes, the Keeper seemed to grow agitated, and it turned its gaze on Goldlewis, much to the Witcher's consternation.

“Oh no you don't.” He growled as the undaunted butcher turned its back on him, charging into it and slashing its back with his claws, only to receive a backhanded swing of the bloody sack to the arm as the Keeper continued forward.

Another fireball proved the final blow necessary to charge Ground Shaker, and Geralt stomped the floor to unleash the barrage of dark energy explosions. The hallway had already been blown open by Goldlewis's Striker, but the Keeper had no room to escape, the explosions softening it up further. Returning to his original state, Geralt tore free the Hateful Flesh again and charged, slamming it into his Keeper and finally getting its attention again.

In the meantime, Goldlewis had been fighting with uncharacteristic patience, finally lending a little credence to his title ‘Secretary of Absolute Defense's. The extra footwork he'd picked up from his Jack-8 fusion helped him play the distance game with the pirate Keeper, peppering him with weaker body shots to keep his RISC topped up until a bigger blow from his coffin could crank it higher. This was a battle of attrition, and busting through the Keeper’s guard without succumbing to his wounds was the veteran’s win condition. His foe fought with ruthless aggression, pausing only to throw down concertina bombs and restrict the field of play.

So focused was Goldlewis that he did not notice the second keeper poised to sucker punch him until Geralt’s Ground Shaker rocked the hollow. It not only forced the second Keeper’s hand, but also demolished much of what remained of the swallowed building. Rubble and ruin rained down around Seekers and Keepers alike. Forcing Goldlewis to take cover beneath his Wall of Light. It took a few moments for the collapse to stop and the dust to begin to clear, revealing a cavernous Qliphoth hollow piled high with debris. With no protection against the limestone downpour, the Keepers had been pounded. They clambered from the wreckage dazedly, dogged to the last.

Goldlewis glanced at Geralt to make sure the Witcher was okay. “Still kickin’ there, hoss? Good!” He allowed himself a smirk as he lifted his coffin. “Let's kick some ass.”

Geralt nodded, brushing off some dust and debris. He'd sheltered beneath a Quen bubble shield, safe from the worst of the collapse. The Keepers had to be on the verge of falling, so Geralt kept up the offensive, hurling the blade forward to slash at the Keeper he'd been fighting. It took the blow head-on without so much as a grunt, and Geralt retracted the weapon to parry a hammer blow as it reached him and attacked. He couldn't stop the follow-up swing from the bloodied sack flail that crashed into his torso, but Geralt got his own hit in with a heavy slash to the Keeper's arm before he stepped back to make some room.

The Keeper abandoned the slow, menacing pace it had maintained for much of the fight, lowering its shoulder and rushing in for a tackle. Not held back by heavy riot gear or a pneumatic tank, though, Geralt was quick to dodge the charge and capitalized on the opening, slamming the Hateful Flesh onto its back with a hearty overhead swing, finally downing this Keeper again. He used the time to transform back into the Molar Boatworks Identity, and circled around to the Keeper's front, priming the pile bunker. Staring down into the open safe, Geralt sighed. Just another monster. He thrust the weapon forward into the vulnerable flesh, and with a rush of air as the mechanism activated, the harpoon crashed into the Keeper's vulnerable flesh, piercing it and dealing massive damage. To seal the deal, Geralt cast Igni and focused the flames into a concentrated jet of fire, scorching the safe and the flesh inside until it melted and bubbled. As the flames abated, the Keeper slumped to the floor, dissolving into ash. Geralt scooped the remaining Spirit up and turned to watch Goldlewis defeating his own foe.

After one final staredown with the dial on his own Keeper’s safe, Goldlewis broke out into a run. He thundered forward a half-dozen steps, and his opponent responded in kind, his bloodlust undiminished. With the demolition of the consumed cellar, though, Goldlewis could do something new: take to the air. He used a fallen slab as a springboard to leap a solid six feet into the air, then airdashed off an orange glyph of magic. Having never fought an aerial opponent before, the Keeper stopped short to steel himself, but he could never have anticipated what happened next. The veteran’s momentum carried him forward with a Behemoth Typhoon that clanged loudly off the Keeper’s safe, but his coffin didn’t stop there; it whirled around and slammed down again, and again. In a ridiculous display of power, Goldlewis used his fully-stocked Security Levels to launch three Behemoth Typhoons back to back, each impact bouncing him back up off his target. Blocking made no difference, and after the third crushing blow the Keeper dropped to his knees. His safe burst open in a spray of gunk, and the next second Goldlewis touched back down.

He cracked his neck to one side, then the other. Then he seized his coffin, muscles and neck-veins bulging. “DOWN THEEEEEEEEE!” With plenty of time to spare, he put everything he had into his mighty coffin uppercut “SYSTEEEEEEEEEEEEEM!” The immense impact launched the Keeper up into the air, and from inside the coffin three Thunderbird drones whirred forth to chase down and blow up on the butcher mid-air. The ensuing explosion lit up the hollow, and only soot rained down with the spirit.

“...Huuuuuh!” As his coffin fell Goldlewis doubled over, breathing heavily. “Gah-lee. Mighta gone overboard there. That sumbitch was sure askin’ for it, though. Tougher’n a two-dollar steak.” He shook his head, then straightened up and smoothed back his pompadour. “Those headbutts still got me woozy. Not my brightest idea…guess that ain’t what they mean when they say ‘use your head’.”

“Perhaps not.” The Witcher agreed, shaking his head. “Must’ve taken it by surprise, at least. Still, that’s dealt with now. Let’s find a way out of here.”

Before the two could move on, though, Geralt’s vision darkened as the world around him seemed to slow to a crawl. Before him appeared a trio of ethereal cards, each with an image and words upon them. Geralt found that he couldn’t quite pull his attention from them, and read the descriptions of each, eventually reaching towards the one with a broken shield on it. With his proclivity for using Quen, it’d be a major upgrade to his capabilities in combat.

At the same time, Goldlewis received a choice as well. Though initially alarmed by the change in his surroundings and the bizarre manifestation before him, he managed to keep his cool. Once convinced he wasn’t under attack, he read over the cards before him. Volcanic Flourish…Battle Nature…Hypereutectoid??? If these blessings were meant to be taken, he supposed that he’d have to choose. As tempting as the more selfish options were, the last one reminded him that he hadn’t been taking advantage of the shielding capabilities he received from Hank. If doing so would strengthen himself and his allies as well, he’d be incentivized to start.





Once the Seekers chose, everything returned to normal–or as normal as things could be within the Qliphoth, anyway. With the inexplicable rewards over with, it was definitely time to move on. Returning to his natural form, Geralt made his way down the hallway they’d destroyed, searching for another vein through which to escape. With the walls of the hollow now exposed they quickly found a suitable and accessible bloodstream. After another moment to compose themselves, the two forced their way in and were borne upward through the Qliphoth once more.
Geralt, Zenkichi, and Edelgard

The Qliphoth
Lvl 14 Geralt (63/140) -> Lvl 14 (66/140) (+2 pending)
Lvl 8 Zenkichi (37/80) -> (40/80)
Lvl 3 Edelgard (24/30) -> (27/30)
Word count: 1,388 words


Geralt, winged in his Ardor Blossom identity, hurled a group of charged-up fireballs into the Floodfested swarm. Maggots and infection forms burst in the flames, while larger enemies caught fire, giving Geralt plenty of opportunity to spread the damage around to the weaker enemies and deal some semi-passive hits to the more powerful ones. A charger came running for him, sensing his vulnerability in the unarmored Identity, only to crash head-first into Edelgard’s shield.

”Back, beast!” She shouted, pushing the Infested away with her towering shield for Geralt to retaliate with a few fireballs. A beam from Ragnell destroyed a walker that was approaching, as Zenkichi leapt into the melee to clear out a group of the low-level swarm. Edelgard slammed Aymr into the burning charger, stepping back to allow Geralt to follow-up.

The transformed Witcher felt the power of Barbatos ready to be activated, and stomped the floor with the destructive intent of the Dark Dragon. Explosions of dark energy burst forward from his position, destroying walkers, infection forms, and some weaker combat forms with ease, and staggering the larger Flood and Infested that it struck. “Let’s wipe them up!” He called, and Zenkichi nodded as Valjean appeared behind him.

”Megido!” He cried to his Inner Self, as Valjean unleashed the explosive balls of Almighty energy into the swarm, finishing off anything that had been hit by Geralt’s Ground Shaker and survived. Edelgard let out a heavy breath before the empty space in the swarm was filled once more by Flood and Infested, this time led by a Tank form Flood. ”Oh man, there’s just no end to these guys!” Zenkichi groaned as he swung Ragnell, a beam of energy launching out to obliterate a combat form that had started to charge ahead.

“Don’t expect things to go easy. Cover me, five seconds!” Geralt shouted, stepping back and transforming into his normal Identity. He drew his flame katana and began focusing a Holy Lance, while Edelgard and Zenkichi stepped in front to provide cover. A ranged form started to fire on them, but Zenkichi dismissed his holy blade to draw his revolvers, firing back at the Flood form. He was trying to conserve his energy, given that this was only the start of what they’d have to deal with.

Edelgard, for her part, was providing a wall against the charging chaff, though once the Tank form reached their line, her attention immediately turned to it. The hulking abomination slammed its trunk-like arm into Edelgard’s shield, the sheer force of the blow sending her staggering. ”What power!” She cried in alarm, as Zenkichi’s revolvers clicked dry. He turned on a dime, dismissing his revolver and summoning the massive Greatsword that Sandalphon had purchased for him. He hefted the blade to shield himself and Geralt from the range form’s attacks, stepping back to better cover the Witcher.

“Get clear! Holy Lance!” Geralt shouted as the spell triggered, lances of holy energy slamming into the tank form and dealing significant amount of damage to it. When the Flood still stood after the final lance had dissipated, however, Geralt sighed as it turned its gaze upon him. “Fuck.” He uttered as it charged, forcing him to leap out of the way. Quen had lapsed, and Geralt had focused on using spells and offensive Signs for much of the battle, relying on Sandalphon’s healing and his armor for protection from harm. If that thing hit him, though, it might just break a bone and damn him. “Zenkichi, deal with this thing, I’ll handle the spine thrower!” He cried, earning a grunt from the detective.

”Fine, but you two keep those chumps off my back!” He replied, Geralt putting away his katana and drawing Odysseus’s bow. Edelgard rushed forward into the melee, Aymr carving through enemies one by one, while the Witcher started firing arrows at the ranged form, each fourth hit triggering a spreading chain of electricity.

Zenkichi, for his part, had swapped the Greatsword for Ragnell, and was slashing at the tank form. The lumbering hulk was slow but powerful, which gave Zenkichi plenty of time to dodge its hits, though their clash lasted longer than Zenkichi would have liked so far. As he came in again for an overhead, the tank roared and bounded forward, catching him off-guard and shoulder-checking the detective, sending him crashing to the ground as it trampled over him.

The detective groaned as he staggered to his feet, while Edelgard was being swarmed by walkers, combat forms, infection forms, and maggots. Sandalphon’s cleanses were keeping her from being infested, and each blow returned some of the damage she’d taken thanks to her Crests, but she was prime target for a larger, more dangerous enemy.

The appearance of the Flood Abomination heralded the beginning of the end for this battle, as the tank form broke off from fighting Zenkichi and instead charged Edelgard, overwhelmed as she was becoming. Ranged forms kept Geralt’s attention, more setting up to fire every time one fell, and Zenkichi had to fight to be heard over the battle. ”Edelgard, big guy heading your way!”

”I’m- ah! A bit occupied at the moment!” She complained, beating back Infested and Flood alike, as the tank grew closer and closer still. Zenkichi tried to regain its attention with blasts from Ragnell. The desperate move failed, and when it reached Edelgard, it slammed both of its massive arms on her, crushing her beneath its bulk and destroying the weaker Flood and Infested around her as well.

The Hateful Flesh, attached to Geralt, carved into the tank’s back, and it slapped its arm to knock him away. He landed on his feet, though he had to catch his balance, and sighing, he summoned the Judicator to provide healing. With its defenses, he shouldn’t be in too much trouble of bleedthrough damage, but he certainly felt the spikes from the ranged forms slowly chipping away at it, even as the abomination restored the vitality of him and his allies nearby.

When Sandalphon announced their getaway, Edelgard began to grow frustrated. How was she meant to escape this? The tank form grabbed her from her position on the ground, even as Geralt and Zenkichi attacked its rear. It was single-minded in its disdain for her, but eventually the men struck true. Edelgard fell to her feet as the final healing wave of the Judicator washed over her and the Striker dispelled. ”Thank you. We must leave at once!” True to her own words, Edelgard broke for the veins that Sandalphon had pointed out, bashing aside foes with her shield.

”Got you covered.” Zenkichi said simply, granting Edelgard a speed boost with Sukukaja, before he and Geralt likewise broke into runs, knocking aside and slaying anything that stood in their collective way to freedom. As maggots, infection forms, and other members of the floodfestation burst beneath their feet and fell to their blades, the group charged to the edge of the battle and carved their way into the vein-like structures before climbing in and being sent upwards.




When Edelgard emerged from the Qliphoth’s vein, it was into another infested room, though this one had a very large, and immediately apparent problem: A very large zombie with bizarre clothing and even more bizarre hair. ”Of course we’ve been saddled with such a disgusting enemy to fight. It is only fitting for such a place. She complained disdainfully, hefting Aymr and preparing for battle.




Zenkichi found himself in a battlefield, with demons, undead, and all sorts of the same kinds of Flood and Infested monsters that they’d already fought duking it out, but among all the things fighting, one stood out: a gelatinous monstrosity wandering the battlefield, absorbing demons and floodfested alike into its being. ”Okay, now that’s just disgusting.” He balked, summoning Ragnell. ”Guess we gotta fight our way out.




Geralt, meanwhile, found himself with Goldlewis in a cramped, maze-like section of the tree. “Ugh. Well, at least we’re out of that chaos.” He muttered, taking note of the strange safe on the ground. “Guess we ought to find a way further inside and reach the others.” As the pair turned their gazes onto the emerging Keeper, Geralt rolled his eyes and cast the Sign of Quen before summoning Tartaglia’s Hydro Twinblade and marching forward at Goldlewis’s back.
Geralt, Zenkichi, and Edelgard

The Qliphoth
Lvl 14 Geralt (61/140) -> Lvl 14 (63/140) (+2 pending)
Lvl 8 Zenkichi (35/80) -> (37/80)
Lvl 3 Edelgard (22/30) -> (24/30)
Word count: 815 words


As the Seekers gathered in front of the Qliphoth and caught their breath, Geralt pulled out the Spirits of the Gargoyles he’d slain over the ravine and crushed them, not wanting to lose track of their spoils.



He put on the ring and stowed the other items away for later use. He could likely use them in that smelter if they didn’t prove to have any downsides like the Bleed amulet he was still wearing did.

Having not seen Sandalphon during his escape from the Catcher, Zenkichi was hit with a wave of relief when she reappeared in a beam of light. ”Welcome back.” It was a simple greeting, but it came with a warm smile and a genuine breath of the relief he felt.

He, Geralt or Edelgard, hadn’t quite expected her to spin up her gunstaff and open fire on the Qliphoth after a few moments of consideration, but her decisiveness had a point all its own. Geralt drew forth the hateful Flesh and began carving away at the flesh of the undead tree. Zenkichi summoned the Greatsword, relying on its massive size to carve out great furrows into the Qliphoth’s flesh. Edelgard pulled Aymr from its hammerspace and joined them, hacking and slashing at the demon tree.

With the effort of so many Seekers, the demon tree quickly gave way and opened a path for them to enter through, and they all hurried in to witness the horrific scene that lay within. Rooms, a veritable dungeon even, of twisted flesh. Worse than that, however, was the infection that was clearly starting to gain ground. The Qliphoth’s defenders were putting up an effort, but against the veritable flood that was the Flood, they stood little chance.

As everybody began to engage, Juri took a moment to mock Edelgard. The Flame Emperor simply regarded the thuggish woman with a flat, disdainful visage and retorted, ”I believe you will find there is little I am more suited for. as she made her way into battle. She was in her element here, a mighty glacier that fell upon lesser enemies as a harbinger of death. Each Flood infection form that charged her was crushed by either boot or Aymr, each combat form that crashed into her fell like wheat before a scythe. Edelgard was a force of nature as she knocked over one Flood with her shield while her axe tore another to pieces.

When needles began to crash into her form, she grunted from the impact of the ranged form’s spike against her armor, raising her shield to block the volley that followed. Geralt noticed her predicament as infection forms began to swarm in an attempt to overwhelm the armored threat, and leapt to her defense, Monsoon’s flaming katana burning through the infernal creatures with each swing. “Zenkichi! Need some range here!” he called out, pressing his back against the Flame Emperor’s. “Keep that thing from taking my head off, and I’ll keep the little ones off your back.” He added.

Zenkichi, meanwhile, was having the time of his life. Tearing his way through small fry like these was his bread and butter, and Ragnell was making it even easier with the defense buff it provided. If something tried to break and run, or regroup for a better vantage point, he could launch an explosive blast at it and take it out from a short distance away. When Geralt called for some range support though, he understood the assignment immediately. Cutting down an Infested that got a little too close for comfort, Zenkichi backed up and called for Valjean to provide some artillery support. ”One-Shot Kill!” He cried as a massive bullet blasted forth from his Persona, obliterating the Flood ranged form with a single hit and freeing Edelgard from its barrage. Geralt immediately broke off her back, unleashing a blast from Igni and igniting a few Infested that were coming his way.

Edelgard returned to her onslaught, throwing in a few fireballs for good measure. Feeling a well of power returning to her, she called upon a new old spell that admittedly was hardly her most-used.



A bright yellow sigil appeared in front of Edelgard, moments before an explosion of light appeared in the space of an Infested runner and destroyed it, returning half the damage dealt as healing. She hadn’t taken much damage from the assorted enemies, but they’d done bits of chip here and there.

Geralt, for his part, was cutting down enemies aplenty with Monsoon’s fire katana while trying to make heads or tails of this place. The Guardian would either be further up or deeper inside the Qliphoth, but good luck finding a remotely straightforward path in either direction. For now, he’d keep an eye out as he blasted infected with Aard, called down Eldritch Lightning to take out swarms, and swapped Identities to deal with various kinds of foes.
Geralt, Zenkichi, and Edelgard

The Dead Zone
Lvl 14 Geralt (58/140) -> Lvl 14 (61/140) (+2 pending)
Lvl 8 Zenkichi (29/80) +3 Collab XP -> (35/80)
Lvl 3 Edelgard (15/30) +4 Collab XP -> (22/30) (+1 pending)
Word count: 1,545 words


It wasn’t long after passing the north edge of the ravine, once the combat had ended, that Zenkichi, Sandalphon, Primrose, and Therion emerged from it, a little rattled but otherwise fine. Geralt gave them an appraising nod, one which Zenkichi returned as their formation reassembled to its previous state. Unfortunately, their peace was so short-lived as to be a joke.

Baby Mario, the BB that Edward was carrying, began to cry, then wail incessantly, as the baby it was. It struck Geralt as odd, fortuitous, and simultaneously baffling that these infants were apparently just that: infants. As everybody began breaking into a shouting contest, Geralt turned his direction outward, as splashes of tar began to burst up from black handprints. “They’re coming, we need to-”

He was cut off as Grimm broke and ran, a moment later a massive pit of tar opened beneath the collected Seekers. “Fuck, move!” He pivoted, his own stride barely hampered by the BTs, each forceful yank enough to dislodge the spectral attackers. Edelgard and Zenkichi were not quite so fortunate, the former becoming quickly bogged down and forcing the Witcher to turn back. “Hang on!” He called, running through the sludge to try and reach her before it was too late.

Edelgard was one of those who found herself pulled away by BTs. Geralt, despite his speed and strength, failed to reach her in time, and she found herself being dragged through the tar as if she were tied to a horse at full gallop. All in all, she hadn’t gone terribly far by the time she released, and around her the landscape began to shift as buildings long-destroyed reasserted their presence in this land, rising from the ground like weeds before entering a sort of semi-buoyant floating. ”How…odd.” Edelgard couldn’t help the thought that slipped out.

Zenkichi, meanwhile, was desperately trying to escape. In his panic, he tried to follow Sandalphon, but the Archangel was practical as ever, and was using her special abilities to escape. He opened his mouth to call for Valjean, but was rocked by the feeling of something grabbing him. Fighting back, Zenkichi trudged towards the edge of the tarpool, but it was no use. His old, cold, body was still recovering from the massive adrenaline dump he’d received earlier, and Zenkichi was dragged off.

Geralt had no such problem. His Guardian-infused body had been utterly untouched by the SFE, and though he attempted to help Edelgard at first, once she was taken, he broke and followed in Grimm’s footsteps. Each paltry attempt by the BTs to grab him was thwarted by a thunderous kick, which pushed off their semi-corporeal form. How exactly that worked he had no idea, but soon Geralt found himself at the edge of the initial tarpool, his personal shield flickering in the rain. He had barely taken a few steps when the pool expanded further, once more surrounding him, though this time nothing grabbed for him.

No, Geralt heard the Catcher before he saw it, and when he did, his eyes widened in fear. Were this a mere beast, he thought he could slay it. Fiends were massive, and he’d killed his fair share in his time. He’d slayed many beasts. No, his fear was not of that nature. He knew, instinctually, that this was the harbinger of the Seekers’ destruction. Zenkichi, though he was not near Geralt, felt a similar feeling of dread. He cast his gaze about the arena they’d found themselves in, before forcing himself to ascend onto one of the half-floating buildings and calling out.

”Primrose! Just like on the mountain!” He shouted at the Dancer, who was not too far, though hardly right on top of him. He jumped down, stumbling as he landed, and jogged her way before calling on Valjean. ”Sukukaja!” As Primrose activated Sealticge’s Seduction, Sukukaja spread to every Seeker, giving them a boost to their overall agility.

To Edelgard, this was a lifesaver, and the Emperor made no attempt to make a heroic stand. Sandalphon was clear: if anybody was caught by these things, it was the end for the Seekers, one and all. And she was not going to be the cause of that. So, keeping an eye out for the Catcher as she ran through and around the buildings that were protruding through the tar, Edelgard made her mad dash to the Qliphoth.

Zenkichi, for his own part, kept close to Primrose. He could keep their speed up with Sukukaja, though if the group wasn’t safe by the end of the spell’s minute-long duration, their personal shields would be down anyway, making their death just a matter of time. He shook off the thought as the Catcher charged around, hunting down Seekers and attacking them.

Midna’s daring distraction had given them all time to start moving, and Geralt, his speed boosted to comical levels by Sukukaja, ran straight into the action. When Midna called for somebody else to distract the Catcher, Geralt answered, Quen shimmering around him, but crashing into the monster head-on with the Hateful Flesh. “Get out of here, all of you!” He called, effortlessly dodging a claw swipe from the oversized monster. “I can keep it busy!” He noticed the lack of reaction to the Hateful Flesh, but tried again to attack, throwing a clump of explosive tissue at the creature, only for the Catcher to thoroughly ignore the explosion and pounce at Geralt, forcing him to throw himself out of the way. Tar and mud splashed up over him, and he forced himself to his feet before the BT could recover.

“Come on, beast! You and me!” He taunted, running at the Catcher before dancing aside as it charged straight on, its mask opened wide to try and catch him within. He dragged the hateful Flesh up and along its flank, again to no effect. “Fuck.” This thing wasn’t tough, it was invincible. Even to a weapon from a Guardian, that could hurt the Chimeras? Just what were these monsters?

That was irrelevant, loathe as Geralt was to admit. He found himself being flung through the air, crashing into a ruined building after being struck by a powerful blow from the Catcher’s tail swipe. Quen was gone, and his personal bubble shield had lost a good chunk of its power from the blow. It wouldn’t last much longer, and from that point it was up to his jacket to keep him safe from the timefall.

Pushing himself out of his miniature crater, Geralt cursed as the Catcher quickly filled his vision, having decided his stunned form was an easy meal. A fair decision, Geralt thought, though he imagined it was rather surprising when a single leap carried the Witcher a good twenty feet away, rolling to his feet and sprinting faster than any typical human could have even thought of moving. Still, with four legs and a significant size advantage, the Catcher BT made a damn fine effort in catching up, and Geralt had to jump onto a building to break line of sight for a moment. His shield was flickering, there was no more room for games. Hopefully he’d bought enough time for the others. If not…

Well, it wouldn’t be a problem for this him to deal with, sad as it was to admit. Hopefully, the next Geralt would find Ciri and Yen. That morbid thought on his mind, Geralt ran towards the Qliphoth, leaving the Catcher to hunt the others.

Edelgard found herself just barely crossing the edge of the tarpool as Sukukaja wore off, her personal shield having faded moments before. She pulled the hood of her jacket closed tight, hunching her shoulders and covering the burns in the coat to protect herself from the deadly rain, even as she ran as fast as her legs would carry her in the Qliphoth’s direction. She felt no remorse for abandoning the others to their fates, even as she heard Geralt’s calls for them to flee. She would have been no help to them. No, it was not remorse that Edelgard felt. It was frustration at her uselessness in this damnable place. Hopefully fighting the Guardian within the massive tree would assuage those worries.

Zenkichi’s own escape route had ended up keeping him somewhat near Primrose, though he also kept an eye out for Sandalphon as he made his egress. Seeing Geralt moving under the effects of Sukukaja was quite funny, given that the man already boasted inhuman speed. It was like watching Usain Bolt in fast forward, the way the Witcher flew across the landscape.

As the three closed in on the Seekers’ destination, each had lost the protection of their personal shield. The pieces of Edelgard’s armor that showed through the jacket had spots of rust, though the worst-case scenario had been avoided thanks to her protective posture. Zenkichi was in near-perfect condition, while Geralt’s face had splotches of discolored flesh, and the Witcher had a sour look on his face, a spot on his chin having hair that looked months old while the rest had a light covering of white beard.

“There is, in fact, such a thing as running too fast.” He simply grumbled to Zenkichi, earning a guffaw from the detective and a tittering laugh from Edelgard.
Geralt of Rivia

The Dead Zone
Lvl 14 Geralt (57/140) -> Lvl 14 (58/140) (+2 pending)
Word count: 569 words


With Edelgard out of harm’s way and no time to lose, the group continued to advance into the crater after the close call. As the group shifted around the ruins to avoid the large pits of quicksand, Geralt kept a careful eye out for anything around. He, of course, couldn’t detect the BTs, though, so he wound up having to focus instead on the BB carriers. Edward, Goldlewis, Primrose, and Roland. He knew Goldlewis the best, and Edward not at all, so his eyes tended to drift mostly towards the Former Secretary, though Roland on the same side caught his attention as well. As long as nothing corporeal intervened, Geralt would just need to keep quiet and he’d be fine.

As the group pivoted around the quicksand pits, Geralt gave Ace some room to move, which proved wise when he felt himself slowly sliding downwards, though he had little trouble extricating himself, owing to the Orphan’s monstrous strength. Grimm’s jaunt up into a set of ruins above was only barely noticed, short-lived as it was, and after not very long at all Geralt and the others found themselves above a ravine with a river of lava at the bottom. “Damn.” He sighed, pulling himself from the ravine’s edge as Sectonia summoned a platform for the group to use. He noticed Ace’s hesitance, but chalked it up to the rain, the effects of the SFE itself, the size of the group compared to the size of the platform, and the pressure that was on him. He had no idea about the monster hunter’s distaste for magic.

Of course, as the group began their crossing atop the magical platforms, Ace’s scoutflies became agitated and glowed red to warn them of danger just as demons began to appear. “Of course.” Geralt rolled his eyes as he cast Quen before drawing Odysseus’s Bow and nocking an arrow. Ace was quicker on the draw, however, Geralt’s Sign-casting giving the monster hunter the edge in draw speed necessary to defeat the lone demon easily.

That state of things didn’t last forever, though, as more demons began ascending, in multiple varieties, and Geralt hopped and dodged about, firing arrows at any he could see, softening up for allies or finishing them off. Though the platforms weren’t overly large, the group still had plenty of room to fight with.

When some Gargoyles came in close, Geralt summoned the Hydro Twinblade and became a flurry of attacks, moving between them in a flurry of blows that left them all wet, which he detonated with an Igni blast, Vaporizing the entire group and turning most of them to ash. He quickly finished off the remaining Gargoyle with his Twinblade, collecting the fallen Spirits of the demons to be crushed once they were free of the rain and battle.

Once the tide of demons finally stopped, Geralt joined the others in recuperating. It seemed that Edelgard took some nasty hits from the magic blows the demons were using, and once she and Edward had put some healing into her, he offered a First Aid of his own, though it seemed the slime from the Viral Rifle had taken care of what their suppressed magic had not. Once they had all come free of the ravine, Geralt returned to his orbit of Ace, though for the time being he watched their rear to make sure no more demons attacked from behind.
A Shot in the Dark

Lvl 8 Zenkichi (29/80) and Lvl 7 Sandalphon (26/70)
Word Count: 2,549


With Zenkichi at her side, his physical presence and support helping to set her beleaguered mind at ease, Sandalphon continued alongside the rest of the Seekers on their grim trek. Huddled around their beacon of safety that was the Stable Field Emitter, its eerily spectral electric white glow the only illumination in this gloomy deluge, other than the archangel’s halo and and the lights on the odradeks’ fingers. They trudged on, more or less united, until they reached an impasse at the precipice of a deep, lava-filled crevasse. Standing at this impasse, they could consider multiple options, but none looked good until Sectonia conjured a means of spanning the gorge to get the team to the other side.

Thanks to that airborne crystal, smaller than usual but miraculously stable even within the bounds of the SFE’s anomaly-quelling field, anyone could make the short jumps needed to get across the ravine, but not everyone did. The crashed ship over to the left, loosely canvassed by a BB and determined relatively safe for lack of detected BTs, proved to be too tantalizing a prospect for several of the more adventurous Seekers to let alone. At the same time, Therion favored another route, and his friend Primrose took the initiative to enable an alternate path down into and along the sheltered ledges of the ravine itself. While splitting the party was a risky move, Sandalphon knew that in a situation like this, there was no such thing as safety in numbers. As long as different divisions of the team each possessed a BB, and could find some way to avoid overexposure to the timefall, they could lessen the possibility of one error spelling doom for the whole team. As a few frontrunners took to the giant gemstone stepping-stone to pave the way for Ace and his all-important emitter, Sandalphon made a choice of her own. She moved to follow Primrose and Therion as they dropped into the ravine, the motion of her telltale halo’s glow making her decision apparent without the need for words.

Keeping Sandalphon in good pace with the rest of the Seekers had required a bit of careful maneuvering. Zenkichi had to watch the Odradeks of the four BB carriers to know when he could pick up the pace a little, and when they had to keep it slow. At least Sandalphon was pretty light, and more than willing to make up whatever pace they needed to when they had the chance. Watching the others jump onto the platform that Sectonia conjured, Zenkichi’s mouth thinned into a line. That was a lot of people in one small area. Thankfully, Sandalphon decided that it might be wise not to group up too heavily, especially when they now had the risk, however small, of falling into a ravine with a freakin’ river of lava at the bottom! Without even a second thought, he followed after the Archangel.

As soon as she alighted upon the ledge that ran along the gorge’s right wall, Sandalphon followed the Octopath Travelers beneath an overhang. Not a moment later, the rear edge of the SFE’s safe zone passed them by. For the rest of the way, it would be up to the protruding lip above them to keep them safe from the timefall. Though mercifully smooth for the most part, this makeshift walkway was only a couple feet wide, so the four Seekers would need to advance in single file. Only another foot or two farther to the left, a sheet of rain poured down, practically a wall of water all the way to the lava below where the droplets sizzled and evaporated into steam. As a result, the depths of the ravine were very misty. Given Ms. Fortune’s warning about demons, and how much the quartet needed to look out for already, that haze would only make this harder.

Zenkichi kept himself fairly close to the wall of the ravine walkway, not willing to risk slipping and falling into a chasm with inevitable fiery doom at the bottom if he somehow survived the drop. No, that felt like a bad idea for some reason.

For a short time, Primrose blazed a trial without trouble, but the denizens of this hellish chasm reared their ugly heads before long. Several rose up to oppose the main group as they crossed up above, and from the back of her group Sandalphon lent a hand with a salvo of ether shots from below. For the most part, though, that storm would be the others’ to weather, for the archangel couldn’t turn her attention from her own predicament for long. Keen as ever, Sandalphon spotted a number of demonic eyes gleaming in the dark recesses of the gorge, mostly further down and half-illuminated by the infernal glow of the lava. She used her screens to discreetly point out where they lurked, but when the BB detected a BT, Sandalphon gave the travelers her full, undivided attention. When the Prowler sprung its ambush, she stopped, her pupils empty rings as she realized what the unchanged direction of the odradek must mean. On high alert, she quietly slipped the Eye of Sol from her back and took aim at the Prowler, even as the disturbed BT began to descend along the wall. To her horror, however, she could not stop her hands from shaking. She could not get a sure shot on the demon as it tangled with Therion; if she tried to silence the offending monster from afar, there was a very real chance of shooting an ally instead. But wasn’t anything preferable to getting caught by a BT?

Zenkichi, meanwhile, was watching the rear, trusting the three to take care of the Prowler themselves. He wasn’t planning to risk shooting into that melee, and of his weapons, he didn’t have much that he could swing here without hitting the wall or someone else.

All these thoughts made it impossible for Sandalphon to steady her aim, and after a moment, she realized that she had no choice but to trust in her comrades. Much to her relief, her faith paid off. Once Primrose skewered the Prowler with her striker, Therion managed to hurl it over the edge, and the pitch-black handprints -mere inches away from the travelers- pursued its howls instead. After a few more moments of tense, stock-still waiting, the threat had passed. Once the odradek’s frantic whirling quieted down back to periodic clicks, and Primrose signaled the all-clear, the four began again. Sandalphon passed the handprints left on the stone with an involuntary shudder, armed with the knowledge that attack could come from any angle. Zenkichi gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder, offering a smile for reassurance. He caught a brief glimpse of caret-shaped pupils for his efforts.

The four continued a few hundred feet, sometimes clambering over rubble on the ledges or hopping small gaps. Just after the path began to widen, however, disaster struck once more. A flurry of plasma bolts flew toward Primrose and Therion from the opposite side of the gorge, fired by warped, demon-possessed soldiers from a ledge on the far side, half-hidden by the rain. The bolts crashed against both the surrounding walls and the travelers’ bubble shields, hard enough to crack rock and barrier alike. To punctuate the salvo, a lone demon in craggy gray armor fired a beam of raw hell energy from its mutated claw, raking across Primrose’s shield inches from her BB’s pod. Her barrier shattered, and the gunners lined up their next shots.

“Take cover!” Sandalphon urged them. The group darted into an alcove just up ahead and dove behind cover. Sandalphon sunk down onto her knees behind a waist-high outcrop, while the others sheltered behind the walls. Plasma pounded the rock, kicking up sprays of dust and stony shards, but Sandalphon’s face remained placid. “Stay back,” she advised Primrose and Therion, her pupils becoming crosshairs. She cast a mirage at her current position, prompting a reactive salvo from the demons, then dispelled it to turn a tile ground beneath her blue. “We’ll handle this.”

”You got that right!’ Zenkichi reassured, dual revolvers at the ready as he kept in cover behind the wall. As the firing slowed, he watched to make sure that he wasn’t in Sandalphon’s line of fire before stepping out and peppering one of the possessed soldiers with bullets, easily felling it. ”Alright, that’s one down already!” He whooped, even as more fire crashed into the wall he was hiding behind.

As the barrage of plasma bolts petered out, Sandalphon arose suddenly from behind her cover to return fire. Before she could even get her rifle into position the Hell Reaver’s energy beam slammed into her head, or more accurately, her personal shield at head level. It took only a moment’s exposure to destroy the barrier, but the archangel ducked back down into hiding just as fast as she arose. Fortunately, her forehead and hair were only lightly singed. “Hmph,” she grumbled, annoyed that she’d taken such a clean shot, and that her assailant seemed to have anticipated her emergence. When she glanced up, however, she quickly realized the problem. “...My halo,” she stated. “It’s a dead giveaway.” As plasma bolts from the possessed spattered the area, she looked over her shoulder at Zenkichi, her pupils still shaped like crosshairs. Evidently she had a plan in mind. “Can you suppress them?”

”No problem!” Zenkichi replied, having reloaded his revolvers during the last volley of return fire. He popped out from behind cover, a barrage of fire slamming into him, but he grit his teeth and returned fire, even as his own personal shield broke. As his revolvers clicked dry, Zenkichi grunted and called out to Valjean, ”Triple Down!” The timely usage of his attack gave Zenkichi a boost to his defense from Preservation Protocol, blunting the damage from the last few hits he took before returning to cover.

The moment after the Persona fired off his skill, Sandalphon popped up again. In an instant she observed that the Triple Down had nailed one of the three Possessed and forced the other two into hiding alongside the troublesome Hell Reaver. For warped corpses they wielded surprising tactical intelligence, but this wouldn’t be a problem. Her unholy foes might have taken cover, but by now Sandalphon had abilities to solve problems that bullets could not.

She thrust her left hand out, and a Cerulean Mirage manifested among the demons. Her hologram appeared to be her spitting image, albeit in shimmering blue, but this mirage was much more than a pretty face. While it surprised and distracted the demons, Sandalphon took aim and fired the Eye of Sol at her distant doppelganger. When her bullet struck the mirage, it burst in a diamond-shaped blast of blue flame that withered the demons with double the damage of an ordinary bodyshot. It bowled the last two Possessed over their outcrops and sent them flailing down toward the lava below, and with the subtlest of smiles Sandalphon ducked back down into cover to return fire.

The Hell Reaver endured, however, and it returned fire with a cunning that the archangel did not anticipate. It unleashed its beam, aimed at the rocky overhang above the opposite ledge. As the stream of hell energy swept across the brittle, rain-worn stone, it shattered and fell in huge, deadly chunks straight toward Sandalphon below.

”Shit!” Zenkichi grunted out as he saw the beam of energy sweep overtop the Seekers, crumbling and destroying the overhang above them. He ran out of cover and dove at Sandalphon, pushing the Archangel out of the way just in time for a chunk to land where she had been standing. ”I got you.” He reassured Sandalphon as he stood up, glaring at the Hell Reaver. Ragnell appeared in his hands, and Zenkichi swept the blade through the air, launching an energy blast at the demon. However, in his haste, Zenkichi’s lack of familiarity with the holy blade resulted in the blast detonating just shy of its target, and Zenkichi clicked his tongue in disappointment as the Hell Reaver spooled up to fire again.

It was then that a spine-chilling noise resounded through the chasm, a product of no living thing. Within the span of a second, a black wave expanded from the demon’s position, spreading across the ground and the walls alike. From the way it glinted and glistened in the light of the lava below, it could only be tar, and the Hell Reaver started thrashing around as if gripped by unseen assailants. In this wounded state, though, its movements were clumsy, and it began to sink into the once solid ground beneath it.

Judging by the state of Sandalphon’s rapidly-shifting pupils, her mind had been scrambled somewhat Zenkichi’s body atop hers, but at that horrible sound she rebooted with haste. She rose in a hurry, stopping only to plant her hand to create a blue tile beneath her, then to scoop up the Eye of Sol from where it had fallen. She knelt and assumed a firing position, her face deadly serious. Once again she took aim at the demon’s head as it bucked and struggled, firing only to melt a hole in the wall behind it as the invisible hands yanked the Hell Raiser off its feet. The next moment it began to slide, first toward the tarry wall and then up it. Sandalphon’s barrel traced the demon’s impossible path, but it shook ever-so-slightly, even as the archangel held her breath. In another second, the demon would be dragged over the lip and out of sight.

Zenkichi rushed ahead, getting as close as he could as the demon was being yanked around by the BT. He dismissed Ragnell and drew a single revolver, reloading a pair of bullets into it with a shaky hand. Lifting the weapon to aim at the demon, Zenkichi breathed out, lining up the iron sight carefully. As the demon reached the corner, Zenkichi fired his revolver, the bullet striking the Hell Reaver in the head and reducing it to dust. The tension in his body almost immediately released, and he let out a heavy sigh, slumping down a bit. ”That was too close…” He muttered, shaking his head.

After a moment, Sandalphon lowered her rifle, her finger easing off the trigger. She watched as the demon’s ash dispersed and the tar pool faded, her face grim. Then she stood, her only sign of emotion the T-symbols in her eyes. Without looking back, she motioned for Primrose and Therion to emerge from the alcove. The odradek’s inactivity confirmed no BTs in the area, so the team could proceed, watchful for more demonic activity. While the threat had passed, this episode was not something that the archangel would soon forget.

Zenkichi dismissed his weapons and wiped a beat of sweat off his brow. The grim look on Sandalphon's face gave him pause. They'd nearly died. They'd all nearly died, because a bunch of monsters tried to attack them. He'd come close to death a few times in his life, but rarely had the difference been made by a single shot. He gave the others what he hoped was a reassuring smile before gesturing to them that it was time to go.
Geralt, Zenkichi, & Edelgard

The Avenger -> the Dead Zone
Lvl 14 Geralt (35/140) +15 Rest +4 Collab XP -> Lvl 14 (57/140) (+2 pending)
Lvl 8 Zenkichi (13/80) +10 Rest +3 Collab XP -> Lvl 8 (29/80)
Lvl 2 Edelgard (10/20) +4 Collab + 15 Rest +3 Collab XP -> Lvl 3 (15/30) (1 pending)
Word count: 2,393 words


The Seekers were an eclectic sort, Edelgard had decided by the end of her breakfast. It made sense, given that they were from worlds unlike her own. And, it seemed, unlike one another in many ways. Some seemed to be more like herself, like those wearing armor and carrying swords and bows. Others wore strange clothing, or wielded very strange weapons. The oddest to her, however, were the creatures that spoke like humans. One vaguely resembled the golems of Fodlan, though she knew better than to make the comparison aloud. Others resembled mutated animals, though again she would not dare say such unkind things to them. These were merely the limited points of reference from which she could draw.

Geralt, meanwhile, had a weight lifted from his shoulders due to Ace’s good news. Knowing that the Hunter and Linkle were alive, along with the bonus news about a Guardian, its weakness, andthe defeat of a Consul (even if she was left alive, the ego check might have been better than letting the others make a new Consul L) was a massive boon, both to his own morale, and the Seekers’ cause. He was hardly skipping around giggling, but his face was a little looser, his gait a little quicker. His first stop was at the armory, where he deposited his beam sword, Monsoon’s sai, and the steel diver torpedo launcher (with the 7 remaining missiles).

From there, he went to the hangar to meditate, finding a spot in the corner to calm his mind and prepare for the upcoming mission. It would test their abilities, their resolve, and their stomachs.

Zenkichi’s own pre-battle prep consisted of a quick trip to visit Akane and make sure she was alright before the deployment. He kept details to a minimum, but mentioned that they were going after a Guardian, and that if everything went according to plan, there wouldn’t be much of a fight before they made it to the Guardian itself. Akane, of course, rolled her eyes. “And now that you’ve said that, things aren’t going to go according to plan. Jeeze, dad, have you never watched a movie?” Sharing a laugh and a hug that neither wanted to let go of first, Zenkichi gave his daughter a pat on the head and made his way to the hanger.

Before he did, he was reminded of Lizzie, whose Spirit would probably be fading if he didn’t deal with it now. In the hallway of the Avenger, he crushed the Spirit of the Rampaging crocodilian, blinking a few times at what he received.



”Wha…? Oh, that’s just wrong.” It was a crocodile skin stretched over a ring, with what looked like a belt. Was it some kind of back shield? He didn’t feel like lugging that around, but he remembered that there was something in the Spirit Chamber that would let you fuse an item into you and gain its benefits, so he took a jog down to the Spirit Chamber. While there, he remembered that vest he got as well and quickly slipped it off. Shoving it in there, Zenkichi felt the effect of the vest transfer to him, letting out a small gasp. ”Oh, wow. Feel tougher already.” Squeezing the Danger Shield in after the melter had recharged, he felt…cooler? Not cooler, more like…he could handle warmth a little better? He’d have to figure that out later. His business in the Spirit Chamber concluded, Zenkichi headed up to the hangar.

Edelgard made it there before the Phantom Thief, and approached one of the Seekers she’d not become acquainted with, yet. He was knelt on the ground, his eyes closed, and his breathing was so steady that she could not see his chest move. Even so, as she stopped before him, one eye opened, cat-like vertical pupils regarding her with a mixture of curiosity and mild annoyance. Edelgard started at the unexpected sight, and though her reaction was minor, it was not unnoticed.

Geralt opened his other eye, the heavily-armored woman before him at least polite enough not to ask what was wrong with his eyes. He stood from his meditative position, now looking down at the Flame Emperor, his tone even. “Yes?”

Edelgard’s eyes tracked Geralt as he stood, the Emperor used to everybody being taller than her. This man was about Hubert’s height, if not taller, and she had to take a step back to avoid craning her neck painfully to look him in the eye. ”I apologize for interrupting your rest, but I wished to introduce myself before the next deployment. I am Edelgard von Hresvelg…I was once Emperor of the Adrestian Empire, but here I suppose we are all Seekers of Light.” Geralt’s brow furrowed. She must have been recently freed of Galeem’s influence to still be this lost.

“Geralt of Rivia. And yes, here we are all simply Seekers. Emperor, mutant, turtle…thing…we are all equal.” He spoke flatly, some disinterest evident, but then he hummed softly. “I was a Witcher. A man turned mutant, given an extended lifespan and abilities beyond that of a normal human to hunt monsters.” He figured it was only polite to give his own history, about as abridged as hers.

”Well met, Sir Geralt.” Edelgard replied, sure to address a knight properly. ”It is…certainly very different from Fodlan here. Creatures and creations unlike any I have seen…though Those Who Slither in the Dark had some weapons that I would not be terribly surprised to find, if flying ships the size of a village that can become unseen are commonplace.” Some part of her was clearly overwhelmed by everything, but Geralt thought she was handling it well enough.

“Hmm. At least you had an idea such a thing was possible. When Ciri told me of a world where people waged war from a distance, had metal in their heads, and all had flying ships…I thought she was joking.” A tiny smile appeared on his face for a moment, before he continued. “Must’ve been one of the many places that got dragged here. Wonder if it wound up in Midgar. One of the cities we visited recently. Defeated their Guardian.” He clarified.

”Truthfully, it is a small comfort.” Edelgard admitted. ”If they exist here, in this world, then nobody is safe. Ever.” Edelgard’s tone was grim, and final. ”They possessed javelins which could destroy cities, fired from beyond the horizon. I visited the ruins after the war ended…it was pure destruction. Of a like I have never witnessed before or since. Edelgard’s voice wavered, but she steeled herself before Geralt took the wind out of her sails with a pair of sentences.

“The Dead Zone will be the same. It was destroyed a little over a week ago in an explosion that created a second sun, albeit for only a short while.” His voice was calm, and even, despite the horrific news he relayed. “And the creatures inside are what caused it. The BTs. The fate that befell that city awaits us all if we are caught.”

Edelgard nearly recoiled, though she managed to maintain her calm enough to merely close her eyes tightly and look down. ”I…see. I hope it is less miserable than the Valley of Torment, at least. We believed the same thing happened there in ancient times. It tore the earth asunder, and left it aflame eternally, even into my time. At least here, it still rains.” Geralt half-laughed, half-scoffed at that, shaking his head.

“The rain kills you.” He rolled his eyes.

”And what a sentence to walk in on. Jeeze, and I thought I was the high-strung one. Zenkichi laughed, nodding to Geralt and Edelgard, before bowing slightly to the latter. ”Don’t believe we’ve met before. Zenkichi Hasegawa.”

”Edelgard von Hresvelg. Sir Geralt and I were just speaking about our worlds, and about the devastation of the Dead Zone. I am remorseful to say that it is not something that I am unfamiliar with, though the means were certainly different in my world.” Edelgard gave Zenkichi a short bow to mirror his own, though the man was looking at Geralt with an eyebrow raised.

”Sir Geralt, huh? Should I address you by your full title from now?” He laughed again, shaking his head before turning serious. ”But…I know what you mean. In my world, another country dropped two bombs on major cities in my country. That was the only time anybody used them in war. It’s been about…sixty-five or so years since that happened? Over two hundred thousand people were killed by the bombs and the lingering diseases caused by the fallout. This place, the Dead Zone, it’s like…a step back into a nightmare for Japanese people.” Both Geralt and Edelgard were quiet, but Geralt was the first to recover.

“More than two hundred thousand people…somehow, I doubt they were all soldiers.”

Zenkichi shook his head slowly, slumping a little. ”Technically, the cities were producing materiel for the military, but…most of those people, and I mean most, were civilians.”

“Fuck.” Geralt hissed, while Edelgard’s teeth clenched. She was reminded of Rhea and Thales. How their selfish machinations left thousands, tens of thousands, dead. She thought of herself, of the thousands dead for her war. Clenching her fists, she shook her head to dispel that treacherous line of thought. She was notlike Seiros or Thales. She destroyed the Church of Seiros and Those Who Slither in the Dark.

”But yeah, this place…it’s bad, but as long as we’re careful, it’s not gonna get worse. Don’t get grabbed, and if you do…hopefully we have a chance to get you out of it.” Wishful thinking, Geralt mused, but he had no idea how these things worked either. It felt off that simply by touching a person they could cause such devastation, but otherwise…did nothing. There was probably more to it after the grabbing.

”I’m afraid if it comes to running or subterfuge, I am…unsuitable for much of either. My armor, as effective as it may be at protecting me, is rather heavy.” Both Geralt and Zenkichi thought the same thing: That’s an understatement.

Their chat turned to their respective ability sets, each person not looking forward to the suppression field for their own reasons, and soon enough it was time to board the Pelican and take off. Edelgard elected to stand, owing to the bulk of her armor, while Geralt and Zenkichi took seats near the back of the ship. They were far from the smallest members of the team, so they tried to avoid taking up too much space.

The ride to the Dead Zone was quick, and Edelgard could scarcely believe how quickly they’d traveled. Geralt was getting used to the kind of technology this world had to offer, and Zenkichi haad enough time spent in Midgar to not really be surprised by this kinda stuff anymore.

Once they disembarked, the three spread out to join different groups. Edelgard kept close to Edward, one of the BB carriers, Geralt kept near Ace, the bearer of the all-important Field generator, while Zenkichi predictably gravitated towards Sandalphon. The former and the latter paid quiet attention to their surroundings as the others spoke, while Geralt gritted his teeth at Juri’s typical attitude. ”Does she ever tire of hearing her own voice?” Edelgard whispered to Edward, rolling her eyes before continuing aloud. ”Though I fear she makes a point about verbal commands and the risk of alerting the creatures to our locations. A slow, measured approach would allow us to respond to any alerts from the others before we’ve moved too far.”

Regardless of the plan they chose, Geralt and Zenkichi were in their element. While Public Affairs was hardly spying, walking light on your feet and keeping your presence concealed was helpful in eavesdropping on potentially illicit conversations while doing fieldwork. Being a Witcher meant tracking, and tracking meant watching every footfall for twigs, rocks, leaves, any singular thing that could give you away.

No, it was Edelgard, used to forced marches, to the glory of pitched combat, to the manicured halls of the palace, who was in trouble. Each step was carefully measured and found wanting. Between the rain, the uneven terrain, and the weight of her armor, every step had her halfway up to her ankle in mud, a quiet slorp sound heralding her foot coming free, only for a plop to warn everybody around her that her other fit was now encased in mud. Damnable…armor!” She snarled as quietly as she could, before sighing. Should she have remained aboard the Avenger? Her combat prowess would be worthless if they were all slaughtered in a voidout before even reaching the Qliphoth.

Alas, it was not meant to be, and as a loose rock shifted under Edelgard’s foot, her balance faltered, and she stumbled forward. Her armor carried her forward and down, and she fell into a muddy puddle with a loud splash. Instantly her blood froze in her veins as the sound of Edward’s Odradek scanning picked up into a manic whirl.

Then came the handprint. One at first, as she pushed herself into a crouch, mud covering her jacket and armor. Then a second and a third as she stood, faster, then four, five, six, seven, converging on her position.

Edelgard held her breath, standing fully and taking a slow step backwards, her foot coming free of the mud with a soft sound. It came down onto wet rock, but that was enough for her. Edelgard’s other foot came free of the mud as the handprints, each throwing tar into the air, grew closer.

Zenkichi could only watch in horror. Edelgard continued to backpedal, beginning to circle away from the straight line the BT was chasing her in, but suddenly, a rock landed in the mud where Edelgard had fallen a moment earlier. Geralt, near the center of the field, had plenty of freedom to maneuver and find something to distract its attention. The handsteps began to increase in speed, this time back towards the muddy puddle, before slowing and circling around where the rock had landed.

The Witcher gave a strained smile and a thumbs up in Edelgard’s direction, receiving a relieved smile in return.

Now, if only somebody could get that egg off Edelgard’s face. Her ears burned, and she was sure Juri had thoughts about what had just happened.
Zenkichi Hasegawa

The Avenger

Lvl 8 Zenkichi - (12/80) -> Lvl 8 (13/80)

Word count: 647 words




As Zenkichi and Akane’s games settled down, Zenkichi spent some time making sure Sandalphon got looked over by the ship’s doctors. They ultimately decided upon sedating her to get her to rest, which resulted in Zenkichi having to carry her back to her quarters and tucking her in, before meandering around the ship for a bit. Nervous energy was worming its way through the eldest Phantom Thief, and after a while, and once it was well and truly late, he found himself in the training room. He hadn’t taken much time to get used to his various new weapons, so he figured he could burn up some of that nervous energy and familiarize himself with his arsenal.

His original Claymore, the Closing Statement, the Hero Sword, the Greatsword Sandalphon had purchased for him (And what a sword it was!, the Etiquette left behind by that ghost monster, and…something else. He felt…something tugging at him ever since he’d spoken with Sandalphon earlier. Rather than rush into something new, he did some basic combos with each weapon he had, getting the hang of them. The Greatsword and the Closing Statement were heavier and slower weapons, though the former was so large that it could basically be used as a shield. The latter, on the other hand, was awkwardly weighted and lacked the length to properly guard him like the Greatsword did.

His Claymore was most familiar with him, of course, though something about the Hero Sword spoke to him. Part of that was definitely the kindred spirit he felt with Konoe, loathe as part of him was to admit it. They weren’t too terribly alike, though both men had had their ideals warped and corrupted by an unjust world. Zenkichi…just hadn’t fallen as far, he supposed.

The Etiquette…barely counted. It was an umbrella, for crying out loud! It was too small, too light, to truly fit him as a weapon. Maybe he’d have to try and see if it worked better for somebody else, or pull it out as a gag weapon like in video games. By that logic, it might just be the most powerful weapon he had, but as he was jokingly musing on that, the pull grew stronger.

That thing. It called to him from within. It felt new, and yet…so familiar. A weapon from one of his Spirits? It was a weapon, that much was certain. It felt like a semi-filled void in that subconscious space that Valjean stored his weapons in. Dismissing the Etiquette and reaching his hand out, he focused…and a in his outstretched hand, a sword appeared. ”There you are…Ragnell. Wait, how did I know that name? What the heck?!”” Somewhat startled, Zenkichi paused and took a deep breath. Look at the thing, man!

It was beautiful, to say the least. He could feel the power from it, but also a blessing. He felt tougher. He felt…right. Giving Ragnell a few test swings, Zenkichi smiled. Oh yeah, that fit right in with his other swords. Giving a few test swings, he smiled. Well-balanced, not too heavy, but certainly not lightweight. It did some work on the dummy, too. Though he got the feeling that wasn’t all it could do. Taking a few steps back, Zenkichi gave the sword a swing from a distance, aiming at the dummy. He did not expect the explosion that came from it, and he jumped back in shock, before relaxing and letting out a full-belly laugh. ”Holy crap that was awesome!” Giving it a few more goes, Zenkichi whooped and laughed at the magical blasts that he wrought with Ragnell, before letting out a deep yawn. ”Man, that thing’s awesome. But it’s getting pretty late.”

Cleaning up what he could from the mess he’d made, Zenkichi retired back to his shared room with Akane, his daughter already fast asleep. He settled into his own bunk, joining her a few minutes later.
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