Lugubrious

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

Imogen Reed

In a silence sullen Imogen went along, plodding after Sofia, Maive, and the others at a slight distance. For now she’d had her fill of venting her suppressed frustrations, however much that actually made her feel better, but she didn’t want Sofia thinking that everything was all hunky-dory just because the uproar died down, either. She took charge again and marched off toward the trees a little too readily for Imogen’s liking, as if she’d personally averted the crisis and put her merry little band back on the road to sunshine, lollipops, and the power of friendship. Sofia hadn’t done anything, though, and she hadn’t earned anything. No matter whether the urge came out of self-centeredness or a misguided need to make up for her mistakes, if Sofia wanted to lead, she shouldn’t except Imogen to follow.

Except this one time, but come on. Not like there was anything else to do.

Despite a total lack of communication or planning, the beachgoers reunited with the junglers almost immediately. The island was just that small. When them arrived she found Victor holding a branch as if to strike them, which earned him a scary look from Imogen. Go ahead and try it, eyelashes, her expression dared him. Apparently the others had been on the hunt for coconuts, an endeavor that thoroughly uninterested Imogen. Whether or not she found herself on a tropical island with scarce resources, she didn’t feel any thirstier than when she arrived at that pier back in the real world. Of course, the others panicking to clean this place out of any resources they could find -regardless of them possibly being toxic or diseased- might pose an issue in the long run, but all that survival nonsense supposed that things here would be running on real world logic, which they obviously wouldn’t be. By now Imogen felt one hundred percent confident in her ‘coma dream’ theory, despite it not completely explaining how it seemed to be simulated the behavior of random strangers she didn’t know. Then again, dreams were like that anyways. She was probably just projecting, although that made the fact that her attempt to vent and relieve stress in her own imagination got shut down by an imaginary crybaby even more sad.

Regardless, she felt no need to start fires or weave hammocks from palm fronds. Those survival shows worked because the producers had medical teams off-camera to swoop in if anything bad happened. Even if one or two people here had a clue about how to prolong the inevitable, trying to make it feel like they were in control, they were ultimately powerless. As the others rested or busied themselves Imogen just leaned against a tree, waiting for the illusion to break down. She’d bet her bottom dollar that things were going to get screwy, and sooner rather than later.

Thanks to the lack of attention she paid to the other students, she noticed the strange silence within seconds of its manifestation. All of a sudden the soft washing noise of the surf formed the only natural sound within earshot. Oh, she thought, peering through the trees. There we go.

Even with the damage done to her glasses, Imogen noticed something big moving straight away, especially with all the lead-up provided by the tremors. From the moment she arrived here she’d gotten the distinct impression that something was wrong with the water here. Normally the ocean should be the whole point of going to the beach in the first place, but this particular sea seemed to her less like a pleasant diversion and more like a yawning abyss, just waiting to pull her in and devour her if she immersed so much as a single foot within it. Like quicksand. But now this bizarre ocean, sick of waiting for people to enter its horror, had thrown something back, coughing it up from its deepest, most primeval recesses, far beyond human ken.

A sagging, warty, blobbish behemoth dragged itself up from the water, revealing its unnatural size one weighty heave at a time. Even as the water rolled off its back, its rugose skin still glistened, moisturized by a thick, sludgy film. Its great googly peepers lolled around in their sockets, all six of them, searching for food. Searching for them. Imogen shrunk down behind her tree, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and amazement as she tried to make herself as small as possible. “Hah…hahah….” After all her theorizing, this was vindication–but at what cost? The hideous monster hurled its massive bulk through the air, slammed down on the sandy shore, and blasted the island itself with a guttural roar. Despite her fervent desire to not look as weak as Sofia, Imogen locked up and toppled over backward into the underbrush from the force of the awful sound, even if just for a moment. She then scrambled to her feet, all the manic energy that dwelled within her a few moments ago back with a vengeance. Imogen didn’t need Capitaine Évident to tell her to run; she was off like a shot in the opposite direction, running as fast and as far away from the froggy fiend as possible.

With the teens’ departure from reality irrevocably proven, all bets were off. In the depths of Imogen’s probably coma, did that beast somehow represent the end? Death coming to take her? She didn’t plan to find out. All she knew was that, however bad things might be, she didn’t want to die. This island wasn’t big enough to outrun that thing indefinitely. With its monumental girth it could knock down any tree she tried to climb. Imogen’s only hope was to flee, not get cornered on the far shore, and hope that monster plodded after someone else.

World of Light

Ash Lake

Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose’s @Yankee, Rubick’s @Scarifar, Teemo’s @Bugman

Though several of the newcomers seemed in a hurry to be on their way, or didn’t think twice about some of their host’s offhanded words and didn’t care to delve further, Primrose convinced Asgore to share with them whatever knowledge might aid them in their quest. That meant gathering together around the hearth in the hollow’s center, surrounded by legendary weapons at the foot of the mountain of ash, able to crane their necks u; and stare up in wonderment as the turned throne before the violet Flame Clock that blazed on the colossal trunk’s inner wall. Everyone got the chance to take a warm drink in handy, despite most of the provided flavors being so earthy that only a dedicated herbivore might truly savor them, and for Teemo Asgore even managed to rustle up a couple cookies. They weren’t the best, being made of decent ingredients but assembled shoddily, yet Asgore offered them as if they were his personal treasure. Then, with everyone assembled, he started to speak.

“It all began when I was destoried,” he began. “By F.” Despite his overall friendly demeanor, he practically spat out the letter. “I don’t know much about him, even after all this time, but F is easy to understand. He has no soul, and can’t feel love, or sympathy, or much of anythin’ worthwhile. He’s a vicious sadist who gets his kicks tearing folks down, tricking them into ruining themselves, and cruel irony. Kill or be killed, as he says, golly. But this world’s perfect for him. And sadly, for whatever reason, he took an interest in me.”

Asgore set his tea down and massaged his eyes with the palm of his hands as if to knead out the tiredness and pain. “So, he destoried me. At the time, I’d been installed as King for a couple years, ruling over these parts from the Home of Tears. It wasn’t right, but I didn’t know any better. Then I learned about the Clocks.”

Scratching his head, Barnabee raised one brow at his host. “Thou mentioned a ‘Flame Clock’ once before, good fellow. To mine ears it sounded like a term of great import. What is it, pray tell?”

Lifting his head, Asgore glanced up at the gilded gauge on the wall. “That big doohickey over yonder, see it? That’s a Flame Clock. It’s the Home of Tears’ clock, to be precise. But what’s inside it isn’t just fire. It’s life, the life of the cityfolk down below.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Barnabee confessed.

“Hmm. Well, ask yourself this. All the people in the World of Light, what do they need to stay alive?” Asgore glanced between his guests. “Water? Food? You betcha. But what we need most…is life itself.” He stared into the bonfire. “Every minute of every day, everyone’s burning up time. We’re all made like matches, and we burn out quick. If you’ve been traveling ‘round the world at all, you must’ve seen it. The fighting. The war. Endless conflict, no matter where you go. Taking each other’s lives, with the taken flames becoming yours in turn.” A hollow laugh shook him. “Not you and me, of course. Without the Lifelight in our eyes, we’re free from the clocks. But we aren’t really free, me least of all.”

He closed his eyes. “F told me that it was my punishment. Atonement for my sins. A chance to make things right, for once in my dang life. I…I never wanted to hurt anyone. I’m not a bad person, but…but sometimes, I have to do bad things. F brought me here and told me to feed the Flame Clock. All by myself. Put the lives of the entire city in my hands.” He held up his palms, the white fur stained black by ash. “It meant the cityfolk could live in peace. Never having to hurt or kill anyone to get the lifelight they needed. Maybe I thought I really could atone by taking it all on myself. Do right by my subjects, for once. Not that I had a choice. I had no idea how bad it’d be. So much sacrifice.”

Barnabee’s eyes widened. “By the queen…I’ve seen the Home of Tears in all its glory. It is home to thousands, perhaps tens of thousands! And this F forced thee to gather enough life for every one of them?”

“Mm,” Asgore grunted, his expression cloudy. “I began with the Infection, and everyone it claimed. When the Infection died down to where it’s at now, I had to branch out. Lake monsters. Creepy crawlies Run after run after run of the Basement. Not to mention P, urgh. I try not to speak ill of anyone, but that boy ain’t right. He moseys on up here to drink his fill whenever he feels like it, setting me back who-knows-how-many lives each time. Cleaning out weak li’l critters wasn’t enough; I had to go out and hunt down the big game. Make a name for myself. Became a monster so legendary that kinds of hunters and adventurers started coming to me, for the ExP, the loot, or just the challenge. But none ever returned..” Asgore lifted up a handful of ash and let it drain through his fingers. “All I wanted was to be a good king, but the Consuls made me the grim reaper.”

Barnabee shivered, suddenly glad that they hadn’t picked a fight with the king. “How long hast thou been doing this?”

“Gosh…” Asgore murmured with a miserable shrug. “Too long. After a while I quit counting the years. Sometimes I wonder if the Home of Tears down there’s the same as I remember, but I’ve never gone back. Don’t deserve it. There’s too great a distance between us–between good people and me.” Shaking his head sadly, Asgore seemed to slump further down. “It’s a vicious cycle. The same one this world’s built on. Killing gets you ExP. ExP gets you levels. Levels make it easier to hurt, and harder to be hurt. But they also make you worth more, either as a target for others, or to the Consuls. I got to be so desensitized, I didn’t even notice when I finally plateaued.”

To Barnabee, still in thrall to Galeem, all this seemed especially confusing. “Thine testimony is too much for me,” he confessed. “I am but a simple warrior. To preserve Her Majesty is all I aspire to. But if thy situation is so dire, and thou hast much strength in thy possession, is there not something thou canst do?”

“I wish I could. But I don’t know how. None of these oh-so-legendary weapons can even scratch the Flame Clock. I thought about rebelling, but the clock’s got me there too. The Consuls could drain it dry if they wanted. Whether they know it or not, every poor soul in the City of Tears is a hostage for ‘em. But all that aside…” Asgore averted his gaze “I just don’t have the right kind of strength. The determination.” He scowled in anger at himself. “I’m just a screw-up. Always have been. Stubbornly sticking to the wrong path. Filling this clock…is all I’m good for.”

After a moment Asgore sighed. “Ohh. I’ve moaned long enough. Here.” He pulled something out of his robe and tossed it at the Seekers’ feet. It was a one-third mask fragment. “Both Consuls gave me a job to do, and guarding this thing was P’s. Kid’s as lazy as he is selfish, so when it came to guarding the Egg he just broke up the masks and stuck the pieces with whatever strong monsters he found.” He gave the heroes a rueful smile. “Said he’d kill everyone in town if I didn’t keep it safe, but he doesn’t even check to make sure I still have it when he comes up.” From another pocket he produced a fragment that looked similar to the first, but painstakingly carved from seashell. “Still, I made a fake just in case.”

“So you do intend to resist?” Barnabee asked.

Asgore shook his head. “I got my hands full, sadly. Got to keep the lights on.” He scarcely needed to gesture toward the Flame Clock to show what he meant. “But I wish you all good luck out there. Find all the masks, learn all you can, and take out whatever it is the Consuls’re so keen to keep safe.” He furrowed his brow. “And if F or P show up…don’t let ‘em get away with this.”

Edinburgh MagicaPolis - Noumenon

Level 8 Big Band (49/80)
Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Red’s @TruthHurts22
Word Count:

With even fewer tense moments to plan than they were led to believe, the team had to think fast. That they’d bring Sierra with them as they fled turned out to be a foregone conclusion. Band had already made it clear that these so-called lawmen weren’t to be trusted, and everyone agreed. Even if they didn’t care one bit about the poor girl’s safety, their best chance at learning the truth behind the demon attack lay with her. That just left one big question: with Irons’ trigger-happiest watchdogs on their way any second now, how were the heroes going to make it out?

Red made a rather dramatic suggestion, formulated a bit too quickly maybe given the circumstances, though he could hardly be blamed for it all things considered. While Red had a point about the possibility of other cops covering the back door and their greater experience with Edinburgh himself, Band couldn’t see the logic behind his plan, especially the wanton destruction. He just didn’t know or trust the superhero well enough yet, and there was no time for Red to explain further. “When the heat’s on, up’s the last place ya wanna go,” the detective said in a hurry, remembering and applying something he knew about firefighting. It sounded like Ace had some doubts too, which made a majority against the idea in his mind, two to one. “The more fuel in the fire, the higher it rises. If we stay here, the whole city’ll be on our asses. We gotta move, but we don’t gotta use any doors.”

Albedo nodded. “That they know where we are is the main issue. We must disappear with all haste.”

“Gimme wheah this hideout is and I can guide us through the streets!” Lucia piped up, looking at Frisk. “Don’t know it like I know Metro City, but I won’t steah ya wrong!”

.Heavy footsteps were on the way; the crew had run out of time for deliberation. With Frisk and Ace undecided and Red probably barking up the wrong tree. Band chose to make the decision for the others. “Pick it up, y’all!” He relieved Frisk of Sierra so that she could run unburdened, gently placing the girl over his shoulder, then took off across the Noumenon like a runaway freight train. After a few moments the rattle of gunfire behind them chased the team behind a row of untouched bookcases, ducking and covering their heads when they could. They reached the back wall with no door in sight, but by their powers combined Big Band and Red punched a new exit through the wall. Then they were back on the snowy roads of Edinburgh MagicaPolis, hounded onward by the sounds of angry voices and sirens in the distance.

Once Frisk painted a rough picture of which direction the group needed to go, Lucia took over. Both streetwise and equipped with an idea of how her fellow officers operated, she led the others on a route full of twists, turns, and unexpected shortcuts, avoiding open spaces and breaking sightlines as often as possible. In a city this big and samey that alone would be enough to evade the average cop, but neither Lucia nor Band doubted that the loose cannons would pick up the trail. “Before we start runnin’ outta breath, let’s hunker down in a spot that’ll play to our strengths,” he advised. “No sense in draggin’ out the chase. Let’s settle up with Irons’ goons right now.”

Not long after, everyone came to a stop in a cluttered, people-devoid street with one of the city bridges in view. As the team slid to a stop in the snow, several of them panting, Band quickly sized the area up. He expected an elite police unit to be packing some firepower, and if the Seekers’ fight against Artemis proved anything it was that they lacked a great deal of ranged options. That meant a corridor wouldn’t suit them well, and their pursuers might very well show up in the midst of their attempts to hide themselves among the debris for an ambush. Band’s eyes landed on a dilapidated supermarket among the apartments, perhaps the site of a fire or some other tragedy. An unpredictable location like that might work to the team’s advantage. “In here!” he called, and with a ‘light nudge’ the door flew from its hinges. It landed with a crash, the last of the shattered glass around its edges reduced to smithereens, and the Seekers hurried inside.

Sooner even than the pessimistic detective anticipated, their pursuers appeared. Stryker, Nightingale, and Byte plus Barq pushed inside with weapons -and arms- at the ready, their flashlights dancing across the supermarket interior. Since its near-destruction the place had seen some looting, with shelves overturned and goods scattered around, as well as too many footprints every which way to tell where their targets had gone. Still, unless they climbed up through the collapsed section of ceiling, the fugitives were here. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way!” Stryker called out, his pistol and flashlight probing the ruined store’s dark corners. “Of course, I don’t mind the hard way. Just makes it more fun.”

Byte’s diminutive companion began zeroing in on the Seekers. “Head signatures detected,” the cop-bot reported, following Barq’s lead.

Nightingale said nothing, but remained closer to the door, a pump shotgun in hand. He planned to bring the big guns on anyone who got flushed out by the others, as well as to cut off their escape.

World of Light

The Astral Plane

Level 4 Goldlewis (19/40)
Goldlewis, Roxas’ @Double, Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Pit’s @Yankee
Word Count: 2210

Dangerous as a boss battle in these circumstances might be, the Seekers weren’t about to let their new friend bite the dust. They joined the battle, with Roxas taking point. Giant enemies were nothing new, and despite their strength and impressive bulk, their speed and weight could be used against them. When Enceladus discarded its battered former opponent to face the newcomers, it opened fire with sweeping lasers and explosive energy blasts, but Roxas withstood the projectile onslaught and returned some magic of his own. A well-timed counter led into a flurry of attacks that made for a solid opening to the fight, but rather than push too hard the dual-wielder made sure to keep an eye on his allies, starting with Goldlewis. The man badly needed another burst of healing, and once he received it he could breathe a lot easier, even if he couldn’t do much to help the team out unarmed.

Karin's brave attempt did not fare quite so well. This inhuman opponent, massive and packing a small army’s worth of projectiles, was unlike anything the heiress had ever faced. And however skilled one might be, sometimes lady luck was simply not on one’s side. Even worse, Roxas couldn’t help her back up after she went down thanks to his mana expenditure for Goldlewis’ sake, so Karin would be out of commission for a while. That also meant that Enceladus could finish her off at any time if it decided to, but Goldlewis wasn’t about to let that happen. Fighting a chimera barehanded might be beyond him, but protecting someone in need he could do. He hustled over to scoop the young woman up in his arms, cradling her like an infant. No stray shots would be snuffing her out on his watch.

That left the fighting to the other three, but the Seekers were pulling out all the stops. A hefty slab of red matter flew in to smash against Enceladus’ body. It crumbled on impact, but did a chunk of damage, leaving part of the monster’s torso cracked with the same fiery orange that eked out of its eyes and mouth. Angry, Enceladus turned its shoulder cannons in the direction the cube came from and bombarded the area, happily pulverizing any outcroppings between it and its targets. Midna felt some of her strikers’ pain, but they disappeared before too much damage could be dealt, and she could take solace in the knowledge she gave a lot worse than she got. A barrage from Enceladus soon flushed her out, but those Dragon Dances meant her volcanic weapons would pack a serious punch.

Pit, Midna, and Roxas converged, and a hectic melee ensued. Focusing attacks on a specific arm did not seem any more expedient than attacking it normally, but they could be knocked down like that and forced to return to the body. Enceladus fought with massive strength, causing explosions on the terrain that tended to outstrip its already troublesome range, and it happily attempted to send its enemies spiraling off into the abyss as much as smash them flat, but it had a problem. It was predictable. All three of its challengers were quick on their feet and observant, able to avoid its blows and retaliate with quick, powerful strikes. Meanwhile, the fastest it moved was during its highly-telegraphed charges; otherwise it floated slowly about, and its block was by no means impregnable. Those mighty fists weren’t much good if it couldn’t lay a finger on these people. Enceladus scored some hits, especially when it started belting out loads of fireballs and lasers, but Pit sent its own projectiles right back at it with his Guardian Orbitars again and again. After just a couple minutes, the chimera was in encouragingly bad shape.

It did showcase one tricky new ability, which it tried twice. After clapping its hands together, Enceladus could seal a team member in a dome of red energy that quickly shrank in. Any contact with the dome would lead to injury, and if allowed to close in it might very well crush an unfortunate Seeker inside. Outside it, however, formed three nodes that sustained the field, and destroying them would free the captive. The first time it happened it led to near-disaster, but by the second time someone got trapped the other two broke them out in no time flat. After a bit more back-and-forth, Enceladus fell to the ground with a terrific crash. It tried in vain to reach out for its foes, but after a moment its hand dropped down, and the chimera lay still.

Of course, that wasn’t quite how things worked, but after a long, hectic, and confusing day not all the Seekers might remember that. As Goldlewis joined them with Karin, a final dome suddenly formed around. “What in tarnation!?” the veteran yelled in dismay. “The damn thing ain’t dead yet!” This time, with all of them trapped inside, it was a real problem. Neither their bodies nor weapons nor projectiles could pierce the dome to destroy the nodes. “This is stupid as hell,” Goldlewis growled. “No way our goose gets cooked like this!”

Luckily, the old man was right. In the midst of a sea of red came a streak of blue that shattered one of the nodes in a burst of red matter. Goldlewis whipped around to look in the direction it came from, but the barrier around him made it hard to see. All he could make out were large shapes moving and shooting, connected by chains of bright, ethereal blue. Another moment later and the final node burst apart, dispelling the barrier and saving everyone’s skin.

Hero and monster alike stared back the way the Seekers had come to see a gang of newcomers, five strong. In the center stood a tall, imposing, stern-looking commander, wearing white armor atop a blue uniform and wielding an X-baton in gladius mode. To his right stood a stoic with spectacles and a cap-wearing lady with an easygoing smile, both officers in uniform as well, and on the left were the twins Akira and Hayato, but like the other three they now sported strange semi-triangular devices on their left forearms with blue cores that rattled and whirred. “You alright?” their leader asked.

“Just about,” Goldlewis called back, hefting Karin so that he could wipe his brow with the back of his hand.

Enceladus tightened its fists and pounded the floor, roaring. The commander nodded. “Then let’s finish this.”

The Seekers could join in, or just watch, as the legionarii both new and old went on the attack. Together they charged Enceladus, and as they approached they summoned creatures to fight alongside them. The entities they summoned looked sort of like chimeras themselves, but blue instead of red, clasped in white police armor, and literally chained to their summoners. Alicia led the charge on her wolflike Beast Legion, which pounced on the chimera to bite repeatedly as its rider laid into its head with her blaster. When it flipped off to avoid getting grabbed, the Beast Legion not only lashed Enceladus with its tail, but spat out a final parting shot that exploded on impact. Next went Jin with his burly Arm Legion, a legless floating armor like a miniature version of Enceladus itself, but this one countered its counterpart’s punch with a flurry of blows before seizing the monster’s arm to deal it a mighty wallop with itself. Enceladus rained down hell with its cannons, but Davis’ Lance Legion shielded the barrage before driving a deadly thrust into the cracks in Enceladus’ chest that Midna left earlier. As the monster writhed, the twins joined in, putting their new partners through their paces. Akira’s ghostlike Arrow Legion perforated the chimera with brilliant blue bolds, while the dual blades of Hayato’s Sword Legion carved through its flesh.

With everyone attacking together, Enceladus stood no chance. This time the Seekers made sure it stayed down, and soon all that remained were ashes and its spirit, tinted freakishly red.

“Thanks for the save,” Goldlewis panted, jogging up to the newcomers as they dismissed their Legions.

Davis’ face was stony. “Save it for later,” he told them. “We have to get you out of there.”

With their instruments plus the guidance of a woman’s voice over their radios, the Neuron officers found a nearby exit rift and got everyone out of the Astral Plane. Returning to reality felt like coming up for air from underwater, and Goldlewis didn’t realize just how out of breath he’d been until he could breathe normal air once more. He still felt pretty bad, though. That sense of filthiness on and beneath his skin had yet to cease, and he was beginning to worry.

Before he could say anything, though, the voice reached Davis and the others again. “Those people you found fighting in the Astral Plane. Their data corruption levels are dangerously high. You should take care of it now.”

Goldlewis froze. He’d be so intent on the fight with Enceladus he’d completely forgotten about redshift. After time in the Astral Plane itself, it had to be bad. The only thing that staved off panic was that operator’s phrasing–was there something that these people could do to save his team?

“Right.” Davis beckoned Hayato over. “I know you’re exhausted, but we need you to bring the Sword Legion out again. It can blueshift these people before they aberrate. Quickly now.

The Sword Legion appeared again and visited the Seekers one by one. It laid its hands on Roxas, Midna, Pit, Karin, and Goldlewis for a few seconds at a time, dispelling the redness overtaking them with a wave of blue. All of a sudden it felt like a massive weight was lifted off the veteran’s chest, as if a terrible sickness had gone away at the snap of a doctor’s fingers. He felt much better, although the Sword Legion disappeared from his view the second he did. Had he only been able to see it, and perhaps that chimera, because enough red matter had entered his system to make him ‘like’ them? What a scary thought.

“Really can’t thank you enough,” he told the officers afterward. “For a minute there I was fixin’ to throw in the towel.”

David gave the slightest hint of a reassuring smile. “Nothing to it. We appreciate your desire to help, but please keep in mind just how dangerous and corruptive red matter exposure is. Sad as it is, Neuron can’t be there every time. Just not enough manpower.”

“Those floatin’ things that looked like chimeras, but fought on your side,” Goldlewis asked. “What were they?”

Jin came forward to answer, allowing Davis to step away and handle something else. Judging by the state of the highway, things seemed more or less sorted on this side. No more gates or aberrations could be seen, and the various roadways swarmed with blue-coated officers. “They’re called Legions,” Jin informed him. “Don’t mean to brag, but they’re basically our ace up our sleeves against the Chimeras. The only stuff that works well against ‘em. Fighting fire with fire, you know?”

“Isn’t this all classified or something?” Alicia asked, her hands on her hips. “I mean, not that I care or anything.”

Jin shrugged. “Hey, they say ‘em with their own eyes. Not much of a secret.”

“Can anyone use them Legion things?” Goldlewis asked. “I know this ain’t exactly our business, seein’ as we ain’t Neuron like y’all, but we’re tryin’ to do somethin’ about the Ever Crisis.”

Jin gave a humorless chuckle. “Now wouldn’t that be nice. Well, not everyone. You’d have to be selected for Neuron to even have a shot, but you gotta have an aptitude for it too. What, you wanna go another round with the chimeras? That’d be a first.”

“For now, you all should head home. Take it easy for a bit,” Alicia advised.

Goldlewis looked back down the highway, trying to spot where he’d left the tunnel. It had been back by the tunnel, and he could probably loop around to find another, less chaos-ridden route into Sector 7. “...Right.”

“Here, we can get a chopper to evacuate you,” Davis said as he returned. “They’ll be flying around all night anyway. Might as well get you where you need to go.”

“That’d be great, but…I ain’t gonna leave my hummer behind,” Goldlewis told everyone. “Y’all go ahead, I’m gonna head back and swing it ‘round. Find another way into Sector 7. This ain’t my first rodeo.” Hefting his coffin over his shoulder, the veteran waved farewell.

It wasn’t long before the Seekers, for the second time that day, arrived by air at the S.O.U. headquarters helipad. Five-star hotel or not, they’d be crashing on the sofas here tonight, using the sheets and pillows provided. It had been a long and busy day.

For Goldlewis

New Power obtained:
Wall of Light
After alerting the UMA Goldlewis can crack open his upheld coffin to release a flood of blue light, creating a semicircular barrier of interlaid hexagons that covers a large area, because in the future everything is hexes. The shield can withstand projectiles and magic up to and including concentrated gunfire, but enemies can pass through it. Using it slowly drains his Security Level, and it can only be used at maximum Security Level, so it can only be used in bursts

Results

Party: Midna, Pit, Karin, Roxas, Goldlewis
Encounter Reward: 16 EXP

Detroit

Sector 8 Lower
Level 11 Tora (136/110) Level 12 Poppi (26/120)
Susie and Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Benedict’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count: 1287

Just from the look of him Tora and Poppi expected Zenkichi to step back and let his minions take the Seekers on. So far Benedict established the precedent of being mostly talk, while the G-men under his thumb provided the action. They did not expect him, when menaced by Geralt, to completely change his appearance in a surge of azure flame, nor to reveal a spectral partner of superhuman size to stand by his side. It struck the two most keenly not because it came completely out of left field, but because they’d seen exactly the same ritual before during their journey through the Sandswept Sky–that sort of spontaneous combustion plus Persona manifestation had been the calling card of their Phantom Thief allies, at least in a metaphorical sense.

“Poppi see that?” Tora exclaimed as the battle began. Poppi didn’t bother answering; of course she had. “Just like friends Joker, Panther, and others that Tora forget! Must be related somehow, meh!” For right now, though, the man wasn’t their friend. He brandished dual revolvers to rival Poppi’s own, though at the moment it looked like it would be the Witcher, not her, taking the detective on. “Ger-Ger be careful not to kill, just in case!”

“Hee-llooo?” came a shout in a cheerful, childish voice. Its owner, Jack Frost, closed in on the leftover Seekers with the other Shadows. “You should be worrying about yourselves, ho!”

Things kicked off quickly. Blazermate and her sentry got the attention of the chrome terror Chemtrail, distracting it for a few moments. With its buzzsaw-like blades and screaming faces, that thing looked like an absolute menace, so Tora knew he and Poppi needed to take out the trash fast. “Let’s go!” As Susie challenged Loup-Garou with her Business Suit, the dynamic duo moved together to take on Apsaras in hopes of dispatching her quickly, but she put up some sort of magical wall, and Jack Frost started pelting the pair with Bufu from afar. As the icicles flew in, Poppi grabbed her Masterpon to dive out of harms’ way, but the glancing blow she took did so little damage that her wariness melted away in an instant.

“Masterpon, you should push in. I’ll take care of that one.” She squeezed off a revolver shot at Jack Frost to keep its head down, then got to her feet with an ukemi and quickly switched to her Fire Core. Trusting his partner completely, Tora bounced off to challenge Apsaras, while Poppi faced a Mabufu hailstorm from the snowman. Wreathed in flame, her Variable Saber’s plasma blade burned through the onslaught, and from within the diamond dust she let loose a fire-infused round at Jack’s feet.

The ensuing explosion launched him upward, and Poppi jetted in for a diagonal leaping slash. “I’ve hee’d my last ho!” he cried as he fell, and the next moment the artificial blade’s brilliant flare cleaved him into halves that quickly burnt to cinders.

At the same time, Tora swung straight through all of Apsaras’ elemental shields and clobbered her in the side of the head with his hammer. She reeled back, grit her teeth, and slung a spell at the Nopon’s feet to freeze him in place with her ice. A vortex of winds built up between her hands as she charged and unleashed a Cycloburst to knock his back, but Tora rolled to his feet none the worse for wear thanks to Blazermate’s overheal. Apsaras cast an icy wave across the ground that erupted underneath her foe, but Tora managed to block in time and just get launched into the air, where he saw an opportunity. “Meh-meh-meh!” he cried, swinging downward the bash off the tip of the iceberg so that he could somersault onto it and slide down the slope. It worked like a charm, and with a whoosh he closed in on Apsaras, riding her own wave back to her. She managed to elegantly cartwheel back out of the way in time to avoid his swing, and with the Nopon overextended at point-blank range she used Bufula to call forth a crag of ice above him to drop on his head.

Instead Poppi smashed through the ice with a blazing red-hot kick and slammed into Apsaras, pinning her into the ground. Variable Saber ignited, Poppi performed a burning backflip to try and slice the shadow bottom-to-top, but despite appearances Apsaras’ weakness was not fire. She survived the fiery strike, and as Poppi landed by her feet she rose, healing herself with diarama. Of course, she couldn’t then do much to stop Poppi as she slashed twice, then used her new anklet to launch into Rolling Thrash, a forward roll heel drop that ended with her on her back and Apsaras bowled forward. With haste Poppi reversed the motion, flipping backward with an upward kick that popped the shadow up. Finally, Tora used her as a springboard to leap into the air and smash Apsaras to the ground with his hammer. Two down, two to go.

Right away, though, they saw that Chemtrail would be a problem. When it used Riot Gun, its three mouths took turns firing huge bullets like howitzers. It had already destroyed Blazermate’s turret, and it had taken all the Medabot’s speed to stay one small step ahead of its gunfire after disengaging from Tora. Giovanna succeeded in taking the heat of the healer with a couple kicks, but they barely left a dent in Chemtrail’s metal body, and the secret agent quickly found herself on the run instead. After a missing a number of Riot Guns that left craters in the ground or screamed through the air to inconvenience other parts of the city, the chrome demon belched forth a cloud of Fog Breath. Giovanna, Blazermate, Tora, and Poppi all got enveloped, leaving their offense and agility suppressed even after the haze cleared away. Chemtrail didn’t innately nullify fire like it did the light and dark elements, but after Poppi landed a couple ineffective hits on its engine it might as well have. Knowing that she couldn’t press her luck in this state, she superjumped away before Chemtrail could turn and nail her with a Riot Gun, then hurried to Tora’s side just as the shadow unleashed Shivering Taboo, inflicting a seventy percent chance of bind, panic, sleep, sick, or poison in an area around it. This time, Tora lucked out but Poppi collapsed to the ground where she lay asnooze. Giovanna stumbled, stricken by poison, and Chemtrail aimed its next Riot Gun her way. Though it hurt him to leave Poppi, Tora ran in to earn its aggression by hammering away at its leg. Giovanna might not be able to take those shots, but he could.

At the same time, Loup-Garou recovered from Susie’s headshot and began to make the most of its agility. He dashed around in speedy bursts, avoiding as much damage as he could as he racked up hits on his less-mobile target. That Business Suit would be quite the tough nut to crack, but in a war of attrition the wolfman had a few tricks up his sleeve. First he attacked Susie’s mech with Fang Breaker to lower her attack, and then he softened it up with one Damascus Claw after another. The raking multihits as it darted around kept the pressure on, even if it wasn’t a lot of burst damage, but if Susie lowered her guard for even a moment Loup-Garou would pounce to strike the pilot herself with the brutal electric power of Souffle D'éclair.

This was quite the mess. Between the fights with Zenkichi, Chemtrail, and Loup-Garou, Benedict had his pick of who to back up. But who needed his help the most?

Home of Tears

Level 10 Nadia (138/100)
Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Omori’s @Majoras End, Ganondorf’s @Double, the Knight
Word Count: 2234

As much as she enjoyed the vitalizing refreshment of pure water and the feeling of rainfall, Nadia knew she’d tire of being drenched eventually. Luckily, the jacket she’d gained from her fusion with Massachusetts was waterproof, as one might expect from shipgirl attire, so by zipping it up and donning the hood Nadia could comfortably withstand the Home of Tears’ ceaseless, characteristic deluge. Sure it smushed her ears down a little, which along with the constant roar of pounding rainfall made it pretty hard to hear, but it beat catching anything that might put the brakes on her convalescence. And her legs would've gotten soaked anyhow as she splashed through the puddles of the dark city streets.

Nadia proceeded at a leisurely pace, despite her hunger, thirst, and fatigue, but she kept a sharp eye out. It would be a bit before her map -consulted semi-frequently beneath overhangs and rain shelters constructed for the express purpose of a moment’s reprieve- brought her to the Royal Quarter, where she planned to commit her burglarize. She was the kind of cat burglar who much preferred to steal from the rich than from the poor, after all. Still, she couldn’t help her eyes constantly roving around as she retraced her steps from the Sanitarium back through Downtown to Fountain Central. Late as it might be to some, the night was still young for Nadia Fortune, and there altogether too many interesting things to see.

She found herself fascinated by the unique features -and inhabitants- of a city built and lived in by non-humans. It struck her as even stranger than the cat-dominated Nyakuza Metro, a weird but wonderful hodgepodge that continuously stoked her curiosity as she made her way along. Whether walking the streets along with her or behind the glass of various stores and restaurants, Nadia observed a huge number of people that in any other circumstance would have just seemed like monsters. She spotted mudmen, mummies, harpies, armors, ghosts, goblins, ghoulies, gorgons (not petrifying, thankfully), dryads, sea horses, land whales, a variety of demons from diminutive imps to fiery fiends, dragons, slimes, and bugs of all kinds. None exhibited any sort of aggression or ill will; they just acted like…well, people. Nadia noticed plenty of beastfolk that would be ferals in her world, and they ran the gamut of beastliness from almost-human like herself to little more than bipedal animals. She happened to glimpse a bunch of skeletons and catfolk at an aptly-named Milk Bar run by -who else?- a milk elemental, but she felt no desire to join them. When she decided that a stiff drink would do her some good, she hadn’t been thinking of dairy. After pausing a moment to let a family of soft-bodied slugcats and a cyclopean frog pass by, Nadia moved on.

After all, interesting and inhuman as the Home of Tears might be, she did not feel at ‘home’, oddly enough. In the end, Nadia knew that for all intents and purposes, she was pretty much a human. Plenty of people in the World of Light had animal ears and/or tails, including some of Limsa’s shipgirls, and nobody batted an eye. Here, she felt like an outlier. In comparison she liked Nyakuza Metro a lot better; it had been cute and fun, leaning wholeheartedly into its gimmick. Limsa Lominscuttle Town spoke to her soul in the same way that Little Innsmouth did, making her hurt for home. In terms of places she’d visited, the undead hellhole known as Redgraccoon City didn’t really count. The couple days she spent trapped there felt like a lifetime. And before that…well, out of all the random spots where the caravan she’d joined stopped during her week-long trek around the base of Split Mountain and through the Sandswept Sky, she only recalled enjoying the night spent in Tostarena Town. It had really been a whirlwind of adventure ever since she left Carnival Town, and she couldn’t even remember how long she spent up there. If not for that caravan, she realized, she might have never run into the Seekers and awakened from Galeem’s stupor. She would’ve never met Ace. The idea of whiling away her days in Carnival Town, happily oblivious to all that had happened, chilled her more than the rain. Nadia shivered, and picked up the pace across the bridges to and from Fountain Central. Those pockets weren’t going to pick themselves.

Eventually Nadia reached the Royal Quarter. Here the streets were spacious, smooth, well-decorated, and bathed in the soft pink glow of ornate streetlights fueled by hydroelectricity. Everything was carefully laid-out and planned, elaborate and aesthetic, and both bugs and beasts adorned themselves with finery. A few of the well-to-do-denizens traversed the tidy avenues beneath umbrellas, but most stuck to carriages, drawn by what Nadia guessed must be less-sentient bugs and beasts. At one point, a particularly fancy carriage rolled by with a Dark Horse pulling it, which elicited a double-take from Nadia. The one she and Sectonia fought early that afternoon had been vicious, but this one seemed tame somehow. “...Huh.”

No stranger to weariness or hunger, Nadia didn’t rush things, but patiently took her time wandering the Home of Tears’ wealthiest districts in search of a target. She’d had enough fighting today. Beneath the glare of Gallo Tower’s clock face she felt like she was always being watched, but security around here seemed relatively light. Did these people generally live in peace and happiness? Well, good for them. Only once did she spy what looked like law enforcement of any kind: a handful of mermaid guards led by a tall, one-eyed knight. Nadia steered clear, and after making her way out of the most active parts of the Royal Quarter, found her mark.

With how late it was, all the fine boutiques on this particular street had closed up shop. Unlike the most upscale shopping center it lacked any awnings stretched overhead to offer shelter from the rain, and no rain shelters happened to be built on it, so there was no reason to linger here in the downpour. Nadia couldn’t see any carriages either, and she didn’t expect anyone indoors around here after closing time. Folks didn’t both live and do business in the same building in parts of town like this, goodness no. The avenue was empty; all she needed to do was take her pick. The feral strolled up the left side of the street, looking in the windows to see what each had in store. A tailor? Probably not. They dealt in pricey but infrequent transactions for services as much as goods, and weren’t likely to have left money on hand. A jeweler? No way. Places like that could be counted on to have extra layers of security, and while she counted herself an exceptional thief, Nadia wanted something easy tonight. A shop with wares that one wouldn’t expect to be particularly valuable, but always turned out to be expensive, especially in upscale areas like this. And one that would see enough transactions throughout the day to leave

A leathercrafter? Bingo.

Nadia stopped and peered inside, scoping the place out with her keen catlike eyes. She could see boots, hats, belts, straps, purses, pouches, wallets, and so forth. The upper class needed things to carry all their money in, as well as reins and harnesses for their carriage-pullers, and guards needed fixtures for their equipment. On the counter by the door lay what looked like a register, but it would have the bare minimum of cash in it, if any. Shopkeepers weren’t so stupid as to leave their stash where any mook brave enough to smash the glass could snatch it. What she wanted was the safe. Of course, she’d need to get in first, and she didn’t plan to use any brute force herself. A cat burglar’s calling card was her silence: getting in and out without a sound, leaving everything just as the owner left it, except for the prize. Luckily, her skillset was bigger than ever.

Nadia looked up. Through the rain that got in her eyes she could see no open second-story windows. Oh well. She jumped up anyway, sinking her claws into the chitinous outer surface of the building. Inside the shop she’d seen a furnace, perfect for casting an inviting glow out on the street, as well as warming up and drying out any waterlogged customers as they perused the leatherworker’s wares. When she reached the roof, Nadia found not a chimney, but a tiny metal pipe just a few inches in diameter. “Purr-fect.” She pulled off her right hand and dropped it in, then drained some blood into it as well. Once satisfied it was enough, she turned and hopped back down to street level, then stood in front of the glass to watch.

After a moment spent feeling around in there, she unlatched and pushed open the furnace from the inside. Earlier remote maneuvers like this had been tricky, but now she’d come to see them as an art, and this time she had a fresh coat of paint to add to the mix. From within the furnace emerged one of her copycats, formed from the blood she’d deposited earlier, with her real hand in place of its own right. Nonchalantly the doppelganger strolled through the store to unlock the door from the inside. It reached up and grabbed the bell to stop it ringing, and Nadia waltzed right in.

She locked the door behind her just in case, then absorbed her copycat (minus the furnace ash) and began to sniff around. During her search for the safe, she happened to spot a display in one corner advertising Wallets with a capital ‘W’. Turning on her Night Light, she read that these magical Wallets could apparently hold limitless funds, and they boasted a price point to prove it. “Hell of an askin’ price,” she murmured to herself. “Good thing I’m gettin’ a discount.” She swiped one not from the display, but from the supply crate in the back. Looking at all the fine leather on display, however, she couldn’t stop there. “Ah, I shouldn’t, but…I’m easily suede.” Nadia took a black belt and looped it through four pouches to emulate the one she’d lost, then put it on. “Feels just right,” she smiled as she tapped on the clasp. “Let’s hope you don’t ‘buckle’ like the last one.” Giggling to herself, she turned to look around. Now, if I were a leatherworker’s safe, where would I ‘hide’...?”

In no time she found it, tucked away in a corner of the supply room. Inside a cabinet laden with transaction records lay the safe, a bulbous strongbox of the same material as many of the cave floors and walls around her, with a keyhole instead of a combination lock. After thinking for a moment Nadia crouched down, lugged the safe out, and turned it around. “Okay. Let’s hope this isn’t any stronger than it looks, or I’ll have to go through the lock.” She put her fingers together, hardened her nails into metal-hard claws, and revved her forearm like a living drill. Holding her bicep with her other hand, she rammed it into the back of the safe, aiming to bore a hole large enough to fit her arm in. After that, it was just a matter of persistence.

A few minutes later, it was done. It didn’t take as long as Nadia expected, in fact. Maybe all this adventuring had made her stronger. When she plundered the inside of the safe, the cat burglar found several days’ worth of unbanked cash stacked there, mostly in the form of high-value Geo widgets. In total it came to a couple thousand. “Nyaow that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” she purred. She sunk it into her new wallet, then stowed it in one of her new pouches. The weight of money in her pockets at last felt good. “Now that’s what I call a waist of money!”

Once she put the safe back, Nadia slipped out the front door, then locked it again behind her with a doppelganger arm she left inside. At her direction it crawled back up to and inside the furnace, then pulled it shut. At that point it fell apart, an insignificant sacrifice hidden in the ash to be torched the next time the fire was lit. The feral sauntered away, fleeing the Royal Quarter at a casual pace. It was past time she got a chance to take it easy.

∞ Activity

Few locales in the World of Light could boast a better view of the setting sun than its western shore, and though it made for a beautiful view from just about anywhere along that sandy seaside, Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn liked it best from the highest point in Limsa Lominscuttle Town. From the edge of the lofty airship dock that crowned the seafaring city’s central castle she could gaze out across hundred of miles of glinting water, over Inkwell Isle and the hundreds of colorful little island villages that made up New Horizons Archipelago, all the way to the horizon. The dusk painted the sky with the vivid, warm hues of orange, yellow, red, and pink. Throughout all the horrors of war those sunsets had provided solace for many soldiers, reminding them not just that they’d made it through another day, but of the beauty of the world they’d been fighting for. And now, after all was said and done, the people of this fair port could enjoy the sunsets and the nights that followed them without fear of what tomorrow might bring.

Tonight, though, Merlwyb couldn’t visit her favorite perch. As the townsfolk enjoyed their second evenings in this new season of peacetime, she made haste for the harbor of the Azur Fleet. The sight of their Admiral running was not a rare sight in Limsa, but with the war concluded at long last those who saw her couldn’t help but wonder what concerned her so.

Merlwyb sprinted across bridges, down stairs, and even put some of her old seafaring skills to use zipping down ropes to reach her destination all the faster. Only when she reached the end of the dock past the white sea-stone port did she slow down. Before her stood an imposing figure, seldom-seen around here but very recognizable. She stood taller even than Merlwyb, despite the admiral’s rather impressive stature, but this woman also sported a physique that would put the burliest male Roegadyns to shame. Despite the cherry-red armor she wore on top of it, the form-fitting black-and-gray suit she wore advertised her incredible musculature well enough. It wasn’t often that Merlwyb felt small, or out of breath for that matter, but after a deep breath she composed herself to speak as if nothing at all was awry.

“Good evening, Madam Consul,” she began. “And welcome to Limsa Lominscuttle Town. I trust you had a safe voyage?”

A deep sigh echoed from the stranger as she turned around. Vivid green eyes regarded Merlwyb with a piercing luster from within a round, vaguely skull-shaped helmet within a mane of octopus tentacles. Their dangling lengths swung gently in the wind as she moved. “Uneventful. Sadly.”

Merlwyb furrowed her brow. “I see. Forgive me for not receiving you in the Bulwark Hall, I must have missed the forewarning of your arrival. Will you be staying long?”

“It’s fine. I didn’t send any.” The Consul chuckled, crossing her brawny arms. “I’ll be going again soon, as well. I don’t really ‘stay’. But I hear you have good news for me.”

“Certainly. I am happy to be able to announce the conclusion of our long and bloody fight with the Abyssal Fleet. It was a hard-earned victory, and it came at great cost. But the war is over, and we finally have peace.” Merlwyb did not attempt to disguise the pride in her voice. She’d earned it.

“Peace…” The Consul laughed through her nose, then shrugged helplessly, her palms upheld. “There is no such thing.”

Merlwyb blinked. “Beg…your pardon? Do you mean to imply the Abyssal threat remains?”

Tilting her head, the Consul put a hand to her chin. “Well, not exactly. It’s true that plenty of them remain alive. Enough to cause problems if they rallied under a new leader. But…” She shook her head. “They’re played out. Sure, they look interesting, but in truth they’re boring. As one-dimensional as it gets. Wasted potential. So we’re gonna clean ‘em up, Consul A and I. The Abyssals won’t darken your doorstep anymore”

“I…see.” That bit of news was a relief, despite some odd turns of phrase Merlwyb didn’t quite parse, but she had yet to feel at ease. “Then, what is it you speak of? Some new enemy?”

Again the Consul shook her head. Her reply came in an almost jovial tone. “Oh no, no no. An old enemy. The enemy of every living thing. Of life, one might say.” She looked up at Limsa Lominscuttle Town, putting her hands on her hips. “For living things, there is no such thing as peace. Only stagnation.” Her disquieting gaze settled on Merlwyb. “When running water grows still, all that follows is decay and death. Where you see a city, I see a nexus of countless lives burning bright, a grand bonfire stoked by the flames of war. After all, conflict is the crucible through which life is given meaning. But with no more fuel for that fire, what happens next? It’ll burn out, and only ashes will remain. The countdown to your extinction has already begun.” Smirking, she crossed her arms. “And I don’t mean that metaphorically.”

Merlwyb gritted her teeth. “Madam Consul, please be clear with me. What peril is our city in? What can we do?”

“You can fight!” I pointed her finger at the admiral, then pounded her fists together. “Conflict is the crucible, remember? If you mean to stoke your flames, you must claim them from others! Before they claim them from you. Prove that you have the right to live!”

“Haven’t we proven enough?” Merlwyb pleaded.

Consul I threw her hands up. “That’s like saying, have I eaten enough? Maybe for now. But tomorrow you’ll be hungry again. And if you ignore that hunger you -and all these people- will die. Do not fear, however. As a reward for your efforts, I’m making it easy for you. It’s high time for a change. That’s where they come in.”

She half-turned to gesture out to see, where a huge, bulky barge floated in the water. Merlwyb had been wondering what that vessel might be since she first glimpsed it, but with the Consul’s alarming words in mind she gave it a closer look. On its deck rested a large structure, and though it looked like a circus cannon she’d unconsciously dismissed that possibility. No cannon, after all, could be that large. But as she stood there reevaluating her line of thinking, Merlwyb also noticed a plethora of small figures crowding the deck, running and jumping around, fighting, or just facing Limsa Lominscuttle Town.

Merlwyb took a step back, her face aghast. “By the twelve! Do you mean to say you’ve brought yet more foes to attack us? Consul!?”

“Hey, now.” I took a step forward. “I’m doing you a favor, you know. I’m giving you a chance–a chance to burn even brighter. Normally, once a place like Limsa reaches the top, there’s nowhere to go but down. Ripened crops will just rot in their fields, after all, if they’re not harvested. That’s where we come in. We don’t actually give our crops a chance to wither away. Waste not, want not.” She chuckled.

“What in blazes are you talking about? Is that what my people are to you?” Merlwyb wished she had brought her pistols with her. “Are you in some way responsible for these years of warfare? How much death and destruction is on your head, Consul?” She balled her fists with an angry grimace. “Tell me!”

I did not budge a solitary inch. “Careful now. This place will need its Admiral to weather the coming storm. Just remember, Merlwyb.” She slowly reached up and with the press of her button deactivated her helmet. When it disappeared, it left behind a face devoid of fear. She stepped closer, pressing the barrel of Merlwyb’s gun to her head. “I do not challenge you,” she intoned in her unfiltered voice. “I merely bring you the test. The chance to avoid the fate in store for the Abyssals.” With a laugh, she licked her lips. “Fail, and I’ll be back for you.”

Then she disappeared in a purple flash, teleporting onto the cargo ship. At her command all forty Rumblers aboard the vessel warped into the cannon. The voice of an announcer rang out across the bay. “Hi folks, I’m Skip Leggerday, coming to you live from beautiful Limsa Lominscuttle Town! We’ve got a whale of a match coming up, so get ready to rumble! In three! Two! One! Go!”

Forty funny-looking wrestlers full of gumption launched into the air, hurtling through the sky to fall upon Limsa like musclebound meteorites, and get their first high-octane match with the shocked city defenders underway.

World of Light

Ash Lake

Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose’s @Yankee, Rubick’s @Scarifar, Teemo’s @Bugman

Awe-inspiring as the sight of Ash Lake might be, it held little weight for the new arrivals on the whole. They had things to do and places to be, so they worked quickly to make what they could of the new environment. Looking across the still dark waters of this remarkable vista pragmatically, in fact, Teemo found little more than profound danger. Even putting aside the very real possibility of giant underwater predators, he simply wasn’t built for swimming. Though vast in principle, this fantastical subterranean landscape was functionally quite small for purely terrestrial beings like him.

Where the Yordle saw peril, however, the others saw opportunity. The Koopa Troop went right ahead and helped themselves to the local wildlife, both at the outset and as the team went along, following as Teemo led the way along the winding sandbank. Barnabee did not partake in the slaughter, but distanced himself from the water, watching the others assert their dominance on these sandy shores. When it came to the aggressive five-legged clams, even Primrose helped out, and from the eldritch shellfish claimed a spirit to crash. Thanks to her, Rubick, and Rika Teemo got a firsthand demonstration of itemization, fusion, and spiritbinding, and as significant as those revelations might be in and of themselves, they would be only the tip of the iceberg of what the little guy would come to realize if he remained with the Seekers long-term. No matter where they went, it seemed like the heroes would never stop running into both new enemies and new friends.

The sandbank went on for about half a mile, longer if its serpentine curves were somehow stretched into a straight line. Sometimes it measured several hundred feet in width, with the peak of its central dune higher even than Bowser if he stood at the water’s edge, but sometimes the sandbank dwindled down to just a dozen feet. In the interiors of its tighter bends lay shallows that could be splashed through without a second thought, where crabs combing the silt for invertebrate morsels could be chased into their hidey-holes. Glistening shell fragments seemed common, but among them a keen-eyed explorer could find the occasional sand dollar, star conch, or piece of coral.

Still, it wasn’t long before the travelers began to focus on their destination, this change brought about in part by a shift in the terrain. As they closed the distance to the hollow they could see more clearly how it differed from the one that brought them here. For starters, it looked bigger, but in much worse shape. It looked badly damaged, its bark warped as if by a terrible fire, and it didn’t actually reach this monumental cavern’s ceiling. Instead it stopped a way up, caving in and withering away to a jagged crown. Far above, the rest of the tree dangled from the roof like a stalactite. Barnabee scratched his chin as he eyed the group’s destination. “I daresay we shall not find a method of ascension in yonder husk. Could it be the same great petrified trees that I witnessed in Hollow Bough, I wonder…?”

When the Seekers began drawing close, the ground began to change as well. The sandbank thickened into what might be considered a proper island, but its constituent material went gradually from pale beige to a somber dark gray, becoming even more soft and fine. It also piled up higher and higher against the side of the other hollow, forming a massive dune that the earthbound were forced to climb. They could see a large crack in the wood at the top that would permit them entry, so they trudged uphill, difficult as it was. A curious smell filled their nostrils as they climbed: that of soot and cinders, like the powdery leavings of a burnt-out campfire, but they made their most curious discovery within a few dozen feet of the opening. Growing from the ash were handfuls of small, evergreen gorse bushes, laden with bright yellow flowers, as well as toxic pea-pods. They stood in neat rows to either side of the breach, their formation pleasant but clearly not natural. Inside it was dark for the adventurers’ light-adjusted eyes, so only once they stepped inside the hollow could they really see what it contained.

And for the most part, the hollow was home to a gargantuan, towering heap of ash. While for the most part the ground in here assumed the shape of a shallow basin, the farthest third of it shot upward into an impossibly steep ashen incline, hundred of feet tall. At the very stop stood an empty throne all by itself, turned away from the entrance. Behind it, recessed into the wall, lay a giant gauge like the face of a clock tower, sixty percent filled by blazing purple flame that lit up the entire space with its flickering glow. Down below the mountain of ash, yellow gorse flowers practically blanketed the floor, but that wasn’t all. Seven altars lay in a circle around the chamber’s center, and on each rested an impressive weapon: a star-metal greatsword, a holy lance, an evil-looking longbow, a magical staff, a draconic greataxe, a splendid shield, and a hellish trident.

Off to one side, a large figure stood, shrouded in a dark cape. Crowned, bearded, and broad-shouldered, he sported two great curled horns, and a watering can in his hand. He’d been tending to the flowers until the Seekers arrived, at which point he stared at them with dark, sunken eyes, wholly devoid of Galeem’s light, or any light at all. The exile made a weak, miserable attempt at a smile.

“...Howdy.”

Edinburgh MagicaPolis - Noumenon

Level 8 Big Band (49/80)
Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Red’s @TruthHurts22
Word Count: 981

The race was on to bring Artemis down before she could let loose her ultimate attack, and all without harming the poor girl trapped within the confines of the demon’s torso. How Sierra ended up like that in the first place was a question Band had neither the time nor the ability to investigate. He only hoped that answers would come to light once the team extracted her, for better or for worse. Pessimistic as he might be sometimes, Band didn’t want to think that the cheerful, wholehearted Spheal trainer had a dark side, or hidden agenda. Of course, that meant this was someone else’s doing, and while Chief Irons sure did seem like a ripe bastard, did he really dabble in the demonic arts? Then again, anything was possible.

Of course, all that could wait. Red was right; the two of them needed to put their fists to use against Artemis so that Ace could cut Sierra free. Wasting no time, the squat superhero recruited a squad of strikers for a new Unite Morph (as opposed to a gaggle of frightened innocent bystanders) which he used to smash wooden debris toward the airborne demon. It wasn’t the most accurate or effective attack, and Band figured he could do one better. Any musician worth his salt, after all, could hit the perfect pitch. “Think fast!” he told Red, snatching him up for a fastball special. With his high-power brass knuckle he hurled Red straight toward Artemis to deliver that big fist of his personally.

A moment after Red drove that haymaker home to soften the demon up, the Cadet went to work. After a footstool jump off Albedo’s Solar Isotoma he slashed into Artemis, then cracked her jaw with an upward wallop from his shield. He then embedded his blade in order to attach himself, but by that time the projectile-happy pretender had already begun to fall. Reaching her was the hard part; it turned out that it didn’t take much to cut her ultimate attack short. Shrieking, she plummeted back down into the ground with both Ace and the newly-arrived frisk on top of her. Together they dug into the demon’s body, prying it open to shed the light of day on the captive trainer once more. Big Band hustled over to help, but the team quickly found that their enemy’s healing factor wasn’t nearly as potent as it looked earlier, and with Artemis stunned from the Seekers’ desperate measures to interrupt her she couldn’t even resist.

For a few seconds Band stood over her as the others worked to pull Sierra out. This almost reminded him of one of Peacock’s favorite moves, which involved bringing her entire crew out to kick and beat on whatever hapless fool she’d managed to stuff into a burlap sack. After a moment though he elected to make a pragmatic choice. He brought his brass knuckles down on the demon’s head with enough force to crack the tilt beneath it, and after only a couple blows Artemis was toast. She dissolved into ash and left Sierra behind, unconscious and slick with cyan demon blood but otherwise none the worse for wear as far as Band could tell. Mission complete.

The detective stood up straight, breathing a sigh of relief. “Nice hustle, y’all.” Ace and Red had both pulled their weight, and even if Frisk hung back for most of the fight, Band was glad she came to help at the end. Not half bad for someone as ordinary as her. His gaze turned to Sierra and the spirit of Artemis beside her, questions bubbling up in his mind about the chain of events that led to this moment. It hadn’t been long at all since she parted ways. Had someone in the group mentioned that they were planning to head to the library in her presence? “Guess we’ll have to wait ‘til she wakes up to get to the bottom of this. Sure didn’t seem like a secret monster to me, but at this point, nothin’s gonna surprise me.”

The Noumenon’s front doors slammed open, surprising him. Band turned in a hurry to see Lucia running over, a panicked look on her face. “Guys, I got some real bad news!” She stopped short with wide eyes, taking in the chaos that had befallen the library with the bedraggled Seekers and their senseless new acquaintance in the middle of it. “Uh. Well, wahse news, anyhow. We got company, and it shoah ain’t the good kind!”

Outside the Noumenon, a perimeter had formed of arcane police cars that floated above the ground on magic glyphs instead of tires, the vivid flashes of their red and blue lights produced by racks of glowing crystal. A number of guardsmen stood at the ready with crossbows, staves, and swords in hand. Most prominent were the three officers that Band wanted to see least of all, especially so soon: Nightingale, Stryker, and Byte plus Barq. They started shouting, all loud and accusatory. Band didn’t pay much attention, since he just ducked back out of sight. “Don’t bother yellin’ with ‘em,” he told the others. “They ain’t here to be reasoned with. We got thirty second max before they come bustin’ in here. If I’m bein’ honest, I don’t mind takin’ care of things now. It was always gonna come to this. Just a matter of time. But we don’t wanna face ‘em all, so let’s see if we can get ‘em to chase us out some back route to somewhere more private.”

“...Cooperation is NOT optional! If you do not surrender, we’ll have no choice but to use lethal force!” Stryker finished bellowing a moment later. Less than ten seconds later, he cracked his neck. “Sounds like resisting arrest to me. Stand back, fellas. We’ll handle this.” With the officers securing the perimeter, Irons’ watchdogs moved in.

World of Light

The sheet looks good, aside from the Valjean image being for ants. If possible I'd like to add a third weakness to balance with his three strengths since both weaknesses are not terribly combat relevant.

World of Light

The Astral Plane

Level 3 Goldlewis (30/30)
Goldlewis, Roxas’ @Double, Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Pit’s @Yankee
Word Count: 857

From the moment they arrived, the Seekers got to experience just how perilous the Astral Plane could be firsthand. The land here, if it could even be called that, hung over a seemingly infinite drop, and no matter where the visitors went a brink was seldom far away. They had no choice but to trust in the integrity of these inexplicably suspended spans of sheer obsidian, overgrown with crimson crags and riddled by golden seams, which left them at the Astral Plane’s mercy. Though practically indistinguishable from one another, the different types of stone behaved in different ways. Some would fizzle out a second or so after someone set foot atop them, completely disappearing for a time and dropping any hapless individuals who hadn’t moved on. Most platforms were ‘locked’ in their current positions, but some slid back and forth through the air in set patterns, and others could be moved by force. With the astral entities added to the mix, lurching weirdly around or raining down gunfire from afar, the going was tough.

Of course, the Seekers were resourceful, and put their multifaceted talents to the task. A few could fly, either in short bursts or continuously, to cross over the many gaps without plummeting into the void. Karen could grapple to points of interest, and Roxas could run across and up ninety-degree surfaces, or ping-pong between them. While the distorted enemies made themselves a frequent nuisance, they also proved themselves lacking in terms of endurance, speed, and intelligence. That made traversal the principal challenge, and luckily for the Seekers, this astral archipelago extended mostly in one direction. Even if no deep southern voice answered Karin’s call, she could be reasonably assured where its owner had been taken, and hasten in the same direction alongside all the others. However, one other strange impediment presented itself, noticeable only in brief moments of rest as the Seekers made their way along. If given a moment to reflect, they might notice that they felt…dirty. Like something weird was on them. In them. Building up. Weighing them down. Subtly, but there nonetheless. Nobody in his or her right mind could call it a good feeling.

After about twenty minutes of navigation through the alien dimension, the team closed in on the terminus. A straight path led between two high, uneven walls to a final large platform on the other side, accessible by a series of room-sized stepping stones to those who couldn’t just sail overhead. Even before they reached the end, though, the Seekers could see -and hear- what awaited them. Goldlewis was on his feet, but only just, making his stand against the entity that had abducted him. When it first extruded its limbs into the World of Light it had been as invisible as the other chimeras, and the glimpse the heroes caught as it flew off through the Astral Plane had been scarcely more defined, but now for whatever reason they could see it. It looked like a burly torso of hard red armor, with a glowing core in the center of its chest, and above that an inverted face half-hidden beneath a sort of cowl, its eyes and mouth glowing like magma. Rather than full arms it sported only shoulders and gauntlet-like forearms, but those massive mitts floated freely, ready to bash and bludgeon, and its shoulders featured huge trunk-like cannons. Instead of legs it bore strange hemisphere limbs sort of like sleds. It towered above Goldlewis, easily twice his already-remarkable size. And compared to earlier, it now looked almost completely opaque, more than real enough to wound and kill its prey. It looked almost like a demon, but the heroes knew that this was a chimera–the first they had ever seen.

Enceladus was a massive, mighty bully. It liked to throw its weight around, charging like a battering ram from hell, but those arms packed an incredible punch too, and when it pounded the ground the matter of the Astral Plane reacted by cracking to unleash a fiery splash. If it stretched out its hand toward a target, a fusillade of fire bolts shot from its fingers would surely follow, though the projectiles blazed through the air a lot slower than bullets. Then again, it also didn’t mind using finger lasers that created explosions when swept across the ground. Enceladus could send off and remotely control its hands as well, but a lot of its destructive power lay in those two cannons, capable of firing explosive cubic payloads or powerful energy beams, themselves also more than capable of causing explosions in their wake.

As the Seekers joined the battle they could see just how bad it had been for Goldlewis. Such a strong monster would be an incredibly formidable opponent on its own, but without his coffin the veteran could rely on nothing but the strength of his own two hands, and as great as that might be every man had his limits. Goldlewis was on his last legs; this fight was do or die.

Detroit

Sector 8 Lower
Level 11 Tora (133/110) Level 12 Poppi (23/120)
Susie and Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Benedict’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count: 993

Giovanna’s attempt to smooth things over came to a crashing halt when Zenkichi cut in, and not just with any run-of-the-mill intercession, either. While the secret agent didn’t know what Manananggal was she could put two and two together thanks to the explicit knowledge that this man believed she and her crew killed it. Giovanna plopped back down in her chair, watched in worried silence by Poppi and especially Tora, who by now had actually been distracted to the point of interrupting his meal. Giovanna’s retelling of past events had been meant to show that her little band had nothing to hide, but after this crucial tidbit of misinformation had come to light it meant she’d stumbled right into disaster. No matter how she tried to play nice now, Zenkichi wouldn’t be having any of it. Plus, if this Turk actually took the time to memorize the names of his goons’ true forms, he was even more fastidious than she originally thought. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

“It sounds like you ought to get your facts checked. You of all people should know that those shadows’ testimony isn’t reliable. Khamsin’s the one who butchered Manananggal, and if you want proof, you’ll find it smeared all over his axe. He was pretty shameless about it.” She crossed her arms. “If I were you, I’d be a lot more worried about DespoRHado than a couple street cleaners. It sounds like they’ve got a bone to pick with Shinra’s administration, and they’ve sure got the manpower for a coup d’etat.”

The tense exchange didn’t last much longer. After expressing his disappointment with Benedict’s intended departure from General Affairs, and urging the Seekers to keep to themselves, the detective went on his way. It was an abrupt change; for a minute it sounded like he’d be calling in the G-men, but now he suddenly had better places to be. Giovanna took a long drink of water from her glass, thinking. Tora, Poppi, and everyone echoed Geralt’s confusion, but whatever Benedict’s answer might be, Giovanna figured she could better address the Witcher’s question.

“Definitely not,” Giovanna sighed. “I mean, it’s good for your health not to trust anyone in General Affairs in, well, general, but even if this guy’s somehow a diamond in the rough, we’re probably in trouble. Wrong or not, he’s holding us responsible for Khamsin mulching that split-in-half vampire woman. And with Benny’s resignation, he just gave up his professional courtesy. I’d be willing to bet his arrival here wasn’t just a chance encounter, either. They might have caught on to us while we were spread out and followed us here.”

Tora fidgeted in his chair. “Meh…that may be true. Tora and Poppi not really pay attention. We spend time playing hitty-ball game for shinybig prizes.”

“...That explains the new gear. Ugh.” Giovanna massaged her eyes with the palms of her hands, then gave Benedict a weary glance. “We’re gonna need to get our story straight in the future. That guy was right, the less details the better. Speechcraft just isn’t my strong suit; I’m better with problems I can hit.” With the bill paid up front, she stood up from the table.

Poppi followed her example. “It’s alright, you did the best you could. But we should probably get going, right?”

“That’s the problem.” Crossing her arms, Giovanna looked out the door. Her tone was hushed. “He might not just let us leave.”

“Tora see. Should prepare for worst then, meh.” Tora popped the last bit of savory pizza into his mouth, wiped his wing off, then jumped down to the ground. He adjusted his pack, making sure his new hammer could be reached readily and easily. Once Geralt, Blazermate, Susie, and Benedict were all ready as well, the crew made for the pizzeria’s front door.

Outside, the street seemed oddly empty, even for the furtive citizens who hustled around this area in the shadow of DespoRHado’s Bunker. Tora and Poppi looked around. As ordered, Zenkichi’s G-men were making themselves as inconspicuous as possible, in the best way they knew how. Two were crouching around a manhole with plungers in hand, while one appeared to be using a wrench to play pinfinger on the hood of a random car. One stood in front of a store’s windows with a washrag in hand, but rather than scrub the glass he towel-snapped it with the wet, wound-up cloth. Poppi rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother…”

A couple seconds later the moment Zenkichi had been waiting for arrived, and he appeared from behind a statue. He fixed his eyes on Benedict. “Pascal. You're going to get more than yourself hurt if you keep talking like that. I don't want to hurt you, but I do need to know exactly what you know. This goes deeper than any one of us, and I can't have you messing this up for me.”

Giovanna put her hands on her hips and gave a thin smile “Sorry, mister. But Special Ops needs him right where he is.”

Zenkichi shook his head with a sort of resigned frustration. The four G-men dropped their pretenses and began to approach. “I’m afraid I’m not asking.”

The inhuman peacekeepers doffed their hats and transformed in bursts of shadowy tar. Tora recognized Loup-Garou from before, but the other three took the forms of Apsaras, Jack Frost, and last but certainly not least a fearsome three-headed engine of chrome, Chemtrail. The first two looked weak, but strength practically billowed off that last one. Tora armed himself with his new Star Crusher while Poppi kept hold of her Variable Saber, not forgetting the new set of beads she’d earned that outfitted her with fresh dance moves. Just another legally dubious fight.

Home of Tears

Level 10 Nadia (135/100)
Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Omori’s @Majoras End, Ganondorf’s @Double, the Knight
Word Count: 1925

After receiving the map from Cornifer and expressing her gratitude, Nadia unrolled it and turned to leave the shelter of the gazebo, looking over its contents. Her map of the Under itself seemed to have grown, but for now she focused on the map of the city itself. The Home of Tears featured a pretty uniform layout, at least from such a lofty perspective. Four districts, just like the mapmaker said, and the one her team wanted -or more accurately, desperately needed given the amount of coughing going on- lay to the east. For a moment Nadia wondered if Cornifer drew this while hanging from the ceiling or something. While he looked a little rotund for such extensive fieldwork, he’d already proven that the heroes would do well not to underestimate him. Just how far were they underground now, anyway? Well, whatever. She planned to keep up the established tradition by taking the lead, and almost set foot outside before a frantic Cornifer gave her pause. “Wait wait, stop!”

Though terribly ill and fatigued, Nadia still jumped at the sudden shout, wondering if something was wrong. “Huh!? What!?”

“Don’t just walk out into the rain with the map out!” the cartographer admonished her. “It’s…well, I know it’s yours now, and you may do with it as you please, but I thought I should say. If you hold it out under the rain, all the work I poured into it will be washed away! You’ll also have no way to know where you’re going lest you commission a replacement, so please, be careful.”

Nadia chuckled, jokingly palming the side of her head. “Aha…right. Duh.” She rolled up the map and put it in her pocket. Then, after staring out into the pounding rain for a moment, she pulled it out again for another inspection. “Uh…which way is it from here, again…?” In her state, it would be a wonder if she could memorize a birthday card, let alone a complicated and yet at the same time abstract representation of an entire city’s layout.

Luckily, fate had another surprise in store for the team this evening, and this time it turned out for the better. After a few moments a stranger came to call on the mapmaker in his cozy gazebo, stumbling over through the rain with a bulging sack slung over his shoulder just to say hello. Nadia glanced over as he drew near. He turned out to be a man, well out of his prime but still animated by a youthful spirit, with a bright maroon suit, a scruffy goatee, and an impressively voluminous head of hair. His tone and even his body language conveyed a sort of wholehearted cheerfulness, which was saying something considering the man appeared to be soaked through by the constant rain, and after catching just one glimpse of the Seekers huddled around the Gazebo (which included the comatose, antlion-borne Ganondorf) he could tell just how debilitated they were. Nadia couldn’t help but laugh at his forthright outburst. He wasn’t exactly wrong. “Not one of my better days, I’ll admit.” Even making puns felt a little much for her right now.

He offered to guide them to the Sanitarium, which through sheer coincidence happened to be his destination. The others might be dubious, but the news left Nadia with a smile of extravagant relief on her face. If this man’s clinking sack contained more capsules like the one the sharp-eyed thief saw roll across the ground earlier, which looked for the world like vials of healing tonic, she felt inclined to believe him. This guy looked like a goof, but someone who’d go the extra mile to get things done if it meant helping someone out. The best kind of person. Who but a kind-hearted fool would lug around a bag full of this stuff in the pouring rain after all, especially dressed as eye-catchingly as that? It was a stroke of good fortune at last. Nadia jammed the map in her pocket and stepped back out of the gazebo and into the rain. Now that she’d been shivering beneath shelter for a moment the rain felt positively warm, like jumping back into a pool after getting out on a less-than-balmy day. “Say no more,” she declared.

Ichiban led the team through the streets, across the bridges, and along the canals of the Home of Tears as fast as his new retinue could go, anxious to get them treatment. Although these surroundings interested Nadia greatly, being a city built and lived in principally by non-human hands, everything passed by in a blur. She felt dazed and half-conscious, wracked by coughs every other moment. Sightseeing could come later. The Seekers needed a cure for what ailed them, and quickly.

At length, Ichiban brought Nadia and the others across a final bridge to their destination, not within the confines of the Downtown district itself, but sitting on an island directly adjacent to it. Formally known as the Addermire Institute of Infectious Disease, but better known to the city residents as the Sanitarium, this imposing hospital of glass and stone had clearly seen better days. Rusted metal, dead plants, and cracked concrete were all common sights, but a ghostly blue light poured from its many windows, courtesy of the whale-oil lamps therein. Once everyone reached the front desk Ichiban needed to hurry off to finish his delivery, but he wasn’t the only one who could tell what was wrong with the team with a single glance. The bright blue eyes of the pink-haired lady behind the counter filled with worry when she approached. “Goodness me, did you all enter the Womb? Stained with blood, coughing like mad. It’s good we have plenty of room, we’ll see to you straight away.” She pressed a button behind the desk, which made a buzzer go off in a room not too far away.

A little nervous, Nadia ran a hand over her face and hair, wiping the water off. “Is it bad?”

“It’s…certainly not good,” Nurse Joy admitted, scribbling on a set of forms at lightspeed. “But it’s a reasonably common case. Virtually everyone who goes there contracts the same diseases. It’ll take some doing to get them out, and it may not be pleasant, but we can do it.” She glanced up at the Seekers, visually confirming something, then started to scribble again. After a moment, a small team of hospital workers arrived with gurneys, led by a stern-looking nurse with glasses. They bid the diseased adventurers lay down, and relieved Sectonia’s antlions of their heavy burden, though the gurney creaked under Ganondorf’s weight. Everyone got whisked away to separate rooms, then helped out of their clothes and given hospital gowns in exchange.

After only a few moments, Nadia found herself alone, lying in a dark room where the only lamp made the surgical equipment cast eerie shadows on the walls. Just what were these instruments? Nadia peered around with wide eyes and lips pursed when not seized by coughing. Some of this equipment looked positively medieval. Come to think of it, why did those egg-shaped creatures strap her in? She tugged at the belt-like bindings, but it was no good. They wouldn’t budge an inch. Fear began to creep through her, but she felt too terrible to focus on it, and just lay there in a state of worried delirium until the door slammed open. Her eyes shot to the entrance, where she saw a frog in a surgical mask, followed by a man in blue carrying a clipboard. “Suspected Red Plague. Creeping Cough. Ooh, tetanus, how fun. Hemophilia? Eh, may as well.” The man spoke with a pronounced German accent. After drawing close he tossed the clipboard on the bedside table in a casual manner, then glanced at Nadia, rubbing his chin as he noted her ears and tail. “Possible rabies. Yes, yes. Just in case. Couldn’t hurt.” He turned away to a nearby cupboard and opened it to root around inside. “...Much.”

Nadia gulped. “Uh, what was that just now?”

“Oh nothing, nothing. Just relax.” The Medic turned back, snapping his glove as he did. Nadia eyed the syringe in his hand, which he flicked in order to remove air bubbles. Only when he turned a leering grin on the feral did she really start to struggle. “It’s time to practice medicine.”

Nadia screamed until the sedative overtook her.

---

Somewhere between two and three hours later, Nadia could be found sitting in the sanitarium lobby, rigid as a mannequin with eyes as wide as saucers. A free lollipop protruded from her mouth, her hands lay on her knees in a white-knuckled deathgrip, and a sticker that read I gave blood =) lay on the breast of her jacket. She’d been like that for a while. The Chanseys had put her clothes through the washer and dryer during her stay at Addermire, but she couldn’t thank the people here for much more than that. Well, that and curing her diseases in almost no time flat, all things considered, but that crazy doctor and his 'treatment' had to have taken years off her life. Surely most of that stuff couldn't be proper medicine? There had been actual leeches in one of those jars, for goodness' sake! Nadia shuddered. She felt more or less fine now, thanks to both her regeneration and the medic's medibeam, but she could hardly describe the ordeal as pleasant, and she didn't even want to consider what all had happened while unconscious. “I need…a damn drink.”

Unfortunately, drinks cost money, and she’d spent everything she earned in that nightmarish basement on the Night Light in her sternum, which she was strongly beginning to suspect might not be a gemstone at all. Her pockets were empty, which meant no much-needed alcohol, no food, no spa treatment (however well deserved) and not even a place to spend the night. What time was it anyway, eight, nine? The thought did occur to her that she could probably solicit a room in Addermire overnight, but she knew more surely than she’d ever known anything before that she wouldn’t be caught dead inside a room in this place ever again. I’d rather sleep outside in the deluge, she thought, grumbling to herself. Wouldn’t be the first time. Then again, most of the inhabitants of this rain-drenched city seemed to be bugs. If she crashed in some alley she could get swarmed by giant earwigs or flies or something. No, she needed money, and that left her with only one option: doing what she did best.

With a heavy sigh Nadia stood up, still a little shaky and very twitchy. She spat the lollipop stick onto the floor and rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen up. “Here I go stealin’ again,” she muttered to herself, pulling out her map. “Royal Quarter’s gotta be it. If I hit some rich sucker, I’ll be set for tonight at least. Somethin’ warm to eat…somewhere dry to sleep…and enough beer to kill a horse. Yeah.” She plodded toward the front door, then turned to glower and glare back at the insides of the Addermire Institute. Nadia hissed, then pushed through the doors and ran out into the rain.

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

Imogen Reed

With most of the fight gone from her just from the realization of how badly she’d screwed up, Imogen wanted to sink into the sand, her hope drained away like rain in the desert. She’d reached a dead end with no way out, and there was nothing she could think of to do to solve any of the problems that hounded her. Ever since she came to that fateful conclusion, she had strived to live each day in caution, temperance, and control, avoiding anything that could cause conflict or bring any sort of misfortune down upon her head. Never good, never bad, just ‘fine’. Reaching out for high notes just hadn’t been worth the possibility of hitting the lows. What good could she possibly have found out there, after all? But now misery had befallen her regardless. Maybe it was karma, built up over the course of years to come crashing down. The wolves that once snapped at her heels had fallen so far into the background that she stopped running, and now they caught up with her. Despite doing her very best for so long, little as that might be, Imogen was going to die here, more disliked and alone than ever.

As she sat there in the sand, her face in her hands, Sofia approached her. Her apology and excuse weren’t airtight, but Imogen didn’t have the energy to snap at her anymore. Besides, weren’t the two of them just the same, in a way? Imogen also lashed out in an unconstructive manner, after all, and far more vehemently too, only to unintentionally -but understandably- make others feel bad. That said, was Sofia still to blame for all this, and justifiably so? Absolutely. But Imogen knew she’d been a jerk. The embarrassment stung her even more acutely than the still-hard-to-process realization that she’d somehow appeared on a deserted island. Maybe. Either way, the fact remained that she’d broken character, and in a rather dramatic fashion too. There had been a lot more pressure behind that damn than she realized, and it burst with such power that she didn’t know if she could put it back together again, at least not in the same way. But was there any point to picking up the pieces she’d held together for so long? If she was going to die anyway, didn’t she deserve to be herself for once?

Of course, her real self wasn’t an asshole. At least, Imogen hoped it wasn’t. Outspoken and impulsive, maybe. She wanted to be someone who meant what she said and said what she meant. But she didn’t want to hurt anyone, not really. Even if it helped in the moment, she wouldn’t feel any better in the long run, and considering how she felt right now, ‘long’ was probably an overstatement. She knew she needed to make amends, and so what if it hurt her pride? Not like she should have any pride to hurt in the first place.

Imogen rubbed her eyes, took a deep breath, and got shakily to her feet. She turned to see Maive, still a blubbering mess, but now locked in a powerful heartfelt embrace with Sofia. Imogen blinked, her brows upturned. Was Maive looking for some sort of support or stability, no matter the source? Was she thankful that Sofia got them into this mess for some bizarre reason? Could this be the startup of an elaborate wrestling move? Or was it…forgiveness?

All of a sudden Imogen found her contemplation time at an end as Maive turned her way, extended a hand to shake. Imogen almost recoiled from the proffered limb on instinct. If Maive meant to forgive her too, Imogen really didn’t deserve it. She’d made quite the uproar taking out her frustrations and couldn’t reasonably blame anyone if they communally decided to shut or out, or band together and chuck her in the ocean. Her cheeks reddened with the embarrassment of guilt, and for a moment she hung her head. If Maive meant it, though, Imogen owed it to her to accept. Though a small girl, Maive had chosen to be the bigger man. That took more guts than anything Imogen could remember doing. She pushed up her glasses, took a few steps forward, and shook Maive by the hand, secretly glad that it -and its owner- weren’t as snotty as they could’ve been about this. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her voice small.

Beyond this, she couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to do. Might as well follow along with the others. If they left to find Team Coconuts, she’d trail along, smoldering quietly.

World of Light

Great Hollow

Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose’s @Yankee, Rubick’s @Scarifar, Teemo’s @Bugman

The further the heroes and their fuzzy new acquaintance descended through the hollow trunk, the more treacherous it became. Narrow and unpredictable organic pathways forced climbers to constantly second-guess or reposition themselves; there was no direct route. Wobbly or brittle branches threatened to bend or break beneath the newcomer’s weight, and animate toadstools waited patiently in the shaded recesses to sink their fangs into any unwary travelers hoping to find shelter or firmer footing, although it didn’t take long for any would-be ambushes went horribly south for the feral fungi as their prey turned out to be more than a match for them. Those who could float, fly, or glide scarcely got off any easier, since the air in here could hardly be called ‘open’. Branches and briars reached out like clawing hands to snare loose clothing and scratch exposed skin. Clusters of fungus suffused in noxious spores and bundles of loose moss that couldn’t hold an adult’s weight if grabbed formed just a few of the challenges encountered.

Still, this was all in a day’s work for seasoned adventurers. Everyone made decent progress, many of them profiting from the perilous descent on the way. Despite its secrecy this space had evidently seen its fair share of wayfarers, and no small amount of them had dropped bits of gear or inventory while struggling up or down this wicked wooden labyrinth. It wasn’t difficult to imagine some poor soul slipping off a notched branch or misjudging a difficult jump, nor the subsequent fall to the bottom of the hollow far below, their bodies and gear scattered far and wide by the many terrible impacts on the way down like balls in the world’s largest pachinko machine. The Seekers who felt confident enough in their abilities managed to scoop up and pluck out a few extra pieces of loot on the way.

In the end, the greatest challenges in their way were the Basilisks, few in number but nevertheless a big problem. Though slow and lumbering their six legs and sharp claws gave them good purchase even on completely vertical stretches of bark, so they could turn up in unexpected places, wherever they appeared they provided a dangerous obstacle. Without even getting close to the heroes, the Basilisks could cripple their stats and deal constant agony with their special gaze attacks. For Primrose and even the typically brash Barnabee, simply going out of their way to avoid them seemed like the best option. That said, Teemo did turn out to be more enthusiastic about killing the animals than one might expect, and the Koopa Troop jumped at the chance for a fight, taking on several Basilisks in succession.

Eventually, a little sore and splintery but not terribly worse for wear, the team could go no further–though to call it the ‘bottom’ of the tree might be a hasty assessment. Rather than actually end, the trunk just filled with sandy soil that prevented further downward progress. Compared to the stark, almost petrified upper reaches of the hollow, this spot teemed with wetland flora, including leafy creepers, milkweed, sneezeweed, and sedge. Toward one side, in the shelter of a cagelike tangle of gnarled mangrove roots, a giant fanged crab with a carapace of stone and trees upon its back slumbered in its nest, surrounded by eggs so large that grown bears could curl up comfortably inside. Luckily, the nest lay opposite a jagged opening in the bark, so if everyone felt disinclined to tangle with their second overlarge arthropod in as many hours they could exit without difficulty. That wasn’t the only reason to head toward that gap, though. Just one casual glance in the direction of the curious blue-green light that eked through it was enough to ignite the curiosity, for it suggested that the heroes stood at the threshold of something not just incredible, but downright impossible. In just a couple moments the Seekers stepped out from the hollow to stand before a remarkable vista indeed.

Click for music

Before them spread a vast and mystical space, maybe too expansive to even call a cavern, especially since it lacked any visible walls or ceiling. Instead it stretched away into the distance until the haze rendered all a murky bluish fog, and upward to a layer of pale green clouds. The trunks of countless other unfathomably tall trees just like the one they’d just emerged from, rising like the columns of some primeval cathedral up from tranquil dark waters through the cloud layer and into the roof beyond. That water formed an immense, glass-smooth lake, and the team stood upon a large ridged bank of sand that wound a serpentine path from this trunk toward another a half-mile or so away. Though it might remind the Koopa Troop of the other impossible shore they encountered underground in the bleakest recesses of yesterday morning, this place lacked that other beach’s pervading sense of wrongness and doom. Instead it possessed a quiet majesty, enough to make one feel small and insignificant, but not afraid.

There were signs of life too, although many as strange and archaic as this place itself. Clams with teeth clung to the bark of the tree trunk beneath the surface, while in the shallows of the sand bank organisms known as ganoderma grew like underwater flowers. Googly-eyed shellfish both large and small called this place home, weathering the glares of ornery barnacles as they trawled for food alongside oblivious trilobites. All those who braved the shore lived in fear, however, of the hostile five-legged clams that stalked these forlorn shores, their enormous maws laden with the slimy skulls of their past victims. Still, that probably beat consigning oneself to the dark depths, where all manner of spine-chilling sea creatures no doubt lurked. Out at ‘sea’ the heroes could spot a number of whirlpools, but they weren’t the only breaches that could be glimpsed in the surface, and if one looked too long into the depths of the lake frightful glimmers could occasionally be seen.

The only land in this place seemed to be sandbanks like this one, and even those were rare. At the base of the tree at the other end of this one lay a large tangle of roots and branches with what might be a clearing inside.

Edinburgh MagicaPolis - Noumenon

Level 8 Big Band (45/80)
Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Red’s @TruthHurts22
Word Count:

To Big Band, the feat of leaping out over a two hundred and seventy foot drop after a plummeting demon to deal a climactic ground-pound finisher at the very bottom was ambitious enough, so he did not at all anticipate what happened next. While he and Albedo descended through the stories of the Noumenon with their sights on Artemis, Red co-opted the bystanders he’d already incorporate into a blade to form a rocket-powered fist that not only caught up to the two -much to Band’s wide-eyed surprise- but also blazed past them to deliver a gigantic punch that drove the wailing demon downward like a meteor. A moment later the two made impact with the bottom floor, and a terrific explosion of shrapnel, scrap paper, and flame ensued that rattled the library from A to Z.

Band could only shake his head in disbelief. “Well, that’s that problem solved.” Not at all aggrieved to have the rug swept out from under him in such an impressive fashion, he turned his mind to slowing his fall. While Ace utilized his Clutch Claw and Albedo proceeded with his original plan to reset his descent with a plunging attack near the floor, the detective deployed and activated his afterburners. Thanks to them he reached ground floor safe, sound, and only a handful of seconds after the Monster Hunter did. It did occur to him that they left Frisk behind up there, but with the threat and the civilians on terra firma she’d have all the time she needed to make her way down to them.

Not that it would take the rest of the group that long to finish this. It was a mess down here, with a great deal of furniture and countless books in utter disarray. Hopefully the authorities won’t hold it against us, Band thought. Lying in a bed of shredded paper in the wreckage of a large table was Artemis, and to the demon’s credit it managed to survive the impact, but that’s where the good news ended for it. Red’s wonderfully brutal punch took out a chunk of its health, and after Albedo came down with his plunging attack to pierce a wing to the carpet, Ace pinned it down with a few well-placed arrows. Unable to position its wings and eyes properly, it could only unleash a smattering of pink rays, and in a fairly predictable manner to boot. Band suspected that the team wouldn’t have any trouble even if Red abstained from the end of the fight to make sure all the citizens he’d wielded were okay. He stepped forward, brass knuckles clenched, to shut this demonic songbird up for good.

Albedo held out a hand. “Wait. Just a minute.” Amidst the demon’s shrill cries, the alchemist tentatively stepped forward, avoiding the magic laser bolts. With narrowed eyes he fixed his elemental sight on the demon’s torso.

After a second, Band raised his eyebrow. “...Son. Surely you ain’t.”

“There’s something strange in there. Something inconsistent.” Rather than impale Artemis through center mass with his Cinnabar Spindle like he originally intended, Albedo used his sword like a saw to make a shallow slice. Artemis squealed, and sky-blue blood flowed from the wound, but as it opened up and the light seeped in Band could see for an all-too-brief moment moment a familiar countenance.

Startled, he instinctively backed away. “Sierra!? What the funk? Did it eat her or somethin’?”

“No,” Albedo murmured, his voice hard. “I think…”

At that moment a handful of lasers shot in from the side, striking the heroes with the guards down. Wincing, Albedo dashed away from the demon’s body and looked up to see a few of its turret pods, which had followed Artemis down from the original battlefield. The demon tore free of Ace’s arrows and floated up into the air, blasting out lasers indiscriminately to get its opponents away. Then the Noumenon seemed to darken as it rose higher still, except for a column of radiance like a theater spotlight around Artemis.

“That can’t be good,” Band grunted. “Look, y’all. The girl ain’t dust, so she’s still alive in there. That means we gotta take this down without hurtin’ her inside!” Artemis began to sing, its voice and the red glow of all its down-ward facing eyes growing louder as it made its last-ditch effort to let loose its ultimate attack. “And from the looks of it, we don’t got much time. Move those feet!” Albedo created a Solar Isotoma to elevate one person into the air in pursuit, and Band crashed one metal fist into his palm, preparing to take flight with Timpani Drive.

World of Light

(Disregard)

World of Light

Sector 7 Highway

Level 3 Goldlewis (22/30)
Goldlewis, Roxas’ @Double, Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Pit’s @Yankee
Word Count: 686

Though the disaster that had befallen the bus and almost all of its passengers left everyone shaken, the thought that there were more people they could save spurred them forward. Thanks to the Medicine Pit scrounged up Goldlewis was fighting-fit again, if not fully restored, and after he steeled himself he moved to follow in that policeman’s footsteps. Rather than go across the bus where the source of the red matter contamination once existed, he stepped over the cars on the left side of the elevated highway. Thanks to their inexplicably bouncy hoods and trunks he made good time, and in just a couple moments he and the team reached the other side of the blockage. From there they hurried past rubble and wreckage both big and small, the sounds of combat up ahead ringing in their ears. More police helicopters could be seen all around, and the Filthwings were in the air with them. Fresh knowledge of what was at stake pushed the heroes to travel all the faster.

After running around -or overtop- an overturned fire truck, the Seekers reached the impromptu evac zone. Two blue-coated officers were holding down the fort, both hurt themselves, and as many dark-blue police supply crates were on hand with first aid and energy cells. There were also four white stretchers laid on the ground with two medic drones apiece, ready to lift any injured persons into the sky for aerial insertion into one of the choppers, presumably so that they wouldn’t need to risk a hazardous landing. Goldlewis saw that one of the officers had lent a wounded firefighter his shoulder and helped him limp over to a stretcher, and once laid down in it the drones whisked it away toward an evac chopper a safe distance away from all the chaos on the highways. The cop looked at the newcomers, eying their weapons. “You…here to help? Hurry up ahead! The others are outnumbered!”

Goldlewis didn’t need to be told twice. His feet pounded the pavement as he hurried through the evac zone to the rescue in process. On the opposite side lay another pileup, used as shelter against any aberration incursions by the officers who set up here. Rather than try to squeeze through the narrow choke point, he clambered up the front of an abandoned semi, barely even feeling the heart of its burning engine, and thundered across the roof of its trailer. Down below, two officers -a heavily armored man with dreads and a spry woman with a long ponytail- were engaging a handful of aberrations. Two Filthwing archers and a Filthwing slugger accompanied three clawed hunters, two swordfighters, and a big axeling aberration with a huge cutting edge on the end of a terribly mutated arm. Goldlewis spotted the daredevil fro before running into join them as the man slid backward from a blocked axe swing, and as the woman backed up with her fists raised there was a brief lull as the three went back-to-back, nearly surrounded by aberrations. Their eyes were on the three civilians hiding around the area, saved by Galeem’s influence which demanded the aberrations fight the officers who hit them instead.

“You alright?” Atlas asked, his tone nonchalant. “We’re a man down, give us a hand.”

Juliette nodded, a brave smile on her face. “Let’s get ‘em!”

Then the monsters attacked; Juliette nimbly cartwheeled out of the way, Atlas intercepted a swordfighter with a mighty kick, and Hayato Howard opened fire on the Filthwings with his X-baton in pistol mode. No sign of any gates, so the battle was on. Goldlewis joined the battle in decisive fashion, expending the Tension he’d accumulated in the last fight to call down a satellite laser on the axeling. It didn’t deal a huge amount of damage, but it dragged the big aberration and two hunters it hit on the way toward the incoming Seekers. The veteran jumped down, coffin in hand, to help put these misbegotten monsters to rest.

Detroit

Sector 8 Lower
Level 11 Tora (131/110) Level 12 Poppi (21/120)
Susie and Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Benedict’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count: N/A

From the moment the Turk set foot in this pizzeria, Giovanna figured some sort of interaction with him would be inevitable. Even if he didn’t recognize her and no word about her new allies reached the General Affairs division after that afternoon’s high-octane highway chase, the Seekers were a strange group made all the stranger by Benedict’s presence. This man might very well know the strategist personally, after all. Still, unlike the G-men who generally assumed ‘guilty until proven innocent’, their human overseers could be reasoned with. While not the best liar in the world, Giovanna figured she could throw Zenkichi off the scent and keep things under control so long as she didn’t do anything to cast her group with suspicion. In a whisper she urged Tora and Poppi to stay calm and act natural. So far, they hadn’t done anything wrong.

Sure enough, toward the end of the meal the detective decided to pay the other diners a visit. He sauntered over after sending his small retinue of G-men on their way, perhaps as a show of good faith, and he came to Giovanna’s team empty-handed. While he looked casual enough and completely unarmed, Giovanna knew better than to assume that this man didn’t have a trick up her sleeve. Lots of people could summon either weapons or additional fighters to their side in the blink of an eye, herself included. She might not know the specifics, but all General Affairs personnel were problem-solvers in their own ways. Zenkichi opened with a quick one-two punch, revealing that he not only knew Benedict, but Giovanna herself. Or he’d heard of her, at least. This man did have a clever and by-the-book look to him. He’d probably done his homework. No matter; Giovanna could handle it. Just play it cool.

“Evening, mister,” she began, lazily leaning back in her chair with an amicable smile. “Nothing too important-”

It was at that point that Benedict stole the show. Giovanna slapped her hand against her forehead. Damn it, you old fart! He’d no doubt spoken up because he thought himself best-suited to defuse any situation involving a colleague in General Affairs, but his choice of words implied -if not outright revealed- the existence of a ‘situation’ to begin with. He even assumed that the detective planned to perform an arrest, when the thought probably hadn’t crossed Zenkichi’s mind. In one fell swoop Benedict managed to turn a pretty ordinary inquiry into a standoff, making the team look suspicious if not outright criminal. Gotta salvage this…

The secret agent trampled over Benedict’s last statement with a burst of laughter. “Pff, hahaha! Oh, man.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “You’re a real card when you’re off your meds, old man! C’mon, joking around like that could get us in -real trouble-...” With her shoe she jabbed Benedict’s ankle under the table. “For -no reason-...” She kicked him again, then with a hearty sigh and roll of her eyes looked back at Zenkichi. Tora and Poppi had remained quiet the whole time, their eyes a little wider than they should be. “He called me and my friends in to help deal with some gangs in the area. Y’know, drug dealers, amateur demolitionists dressed like hockey players. I can give you the deets if you like, buuut it’s nothing too serious. Just taking out some trash. Gotta spice up my retirement somehow~”

“Speaking of…” At that point she stood, reaching over the table with her arm extended to Zenkichi to shake, making sure to lean forward enough to give him a good view as she did. “Now that your buddies are gone, why not join us for a drink? Any friend of Benedict’s is a friend of mine! Nice to meet you, Mr…?”

She hoped that by extending him an invitation, and reminding him that the G-men were waiting on him, that he’d politely decline and do the opposite. With how sketchy Benedict had been, though, she worried that it might take more than this to convince Zenkichi that nothing was amiss.

Ms Fortune

Level 10 Nadia (123/100)
Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Omori’s @Majoras End, Ganondorf’s @Double, the Knight
Level
Word Count: 1534

Result

Party: Ms Fortune, Sectonia, Jesse, Omori, Ganondorf
Extended Encounter Reward: +25 EXP
Loot: Lots of stuff. Including Tetanus, Red Plague, and Creeping Cough (everyone except Sectonia). Abusive Affliction (only Sectonia). 1 Mask Fragment. It Lives spirit (Everything not explicitly claimed was left behind)
Heaven Bonus: Therion
Heaven Reward: Faith +1
Hell Bonus: Sectonia
Hell Reward: Evil +1
Rubber Cement has appeared in the Basement!

With most of the Seekers in a sorry state, debilitated by disease and more or less emotionally destabilized by the Basement and its non-stop gallery of horrors, even a simple trip across a series of enamel stepping stones took some doing. That meant that when the team finally reached the jaw-like overlook on the other side of the bloody whirlpool and found no way to open it, everyone could only flounder in beleaguered disbelief. Its thick chitinous surface would not even begin to yield to the meager strength they still possessed, and no mechanism for controlling it could be found nearby.

Nadia sank to the fleshy ground, her breathing throat ragged from labored breathing. “No furrykin’ way,” she groaned. “We came all this way and it’s closed!?” She glanced over her shoulder at the giant gullet behind her, her normally-perky ears flattened against her head. “Surely we’re not s’posed to…I can’t do that! Isn’t there any other way?”

For Jesse, there was. Even if this situation looked hopeless, the others could always count on her to see things differently. To her, the concentric, perpetual-motion shimmer of Polaris could be seen superimposed over the doorway. Her guiding star meant for her to pass through, and the FBC director had just the tool (or in this case, tool gun) for the job. In a flash she could no-collide the massive shell that composed most of this otherwise-insurmountable gateway, allowing the entire team to limp, lumber, and bumble through.

Once she set foot beyond the seal, Nadia felt an instant change in the air. Gone were the sticky heat and absurd humidity that made one’s sweaty skin crawl, replaced by a cool crispness. She stood in a dimly-lit tunnel of dark stone and carved carapaces, similar to the masonry found in the crossroads of the Ruins, though less purple. Gone was the inexplicable luminescence that provided perfect visibility inside the gargantuan guts of that eldritch superorganism, so only little swarms of lumaflies provided light in this place. Nadia didn’t mind one bit though. A breath of fresh air outside those infernal intestines helped pull her back from the brink; though sick and tired, she could go on a little longer. The roar of torrential blood rapids faded into the background, replaced by a more comfortable white noise that Nadia couldn’t quite identify. Slowly the team made their way through the tunnel toward a soft blue light at its end. There, their weary procession came to a brief standstill, for in front of them lay the most immense cavern that any had ever seen, and within that vast underground space lay a city–a city awash in rain.

Click for music

The city sat upon the water. A vast lake of ink-dark water covered the cavern floor, and from it rose countless blue-black buildings of stone, shell, and steel. Great towers reached high into the air, their exteriors dotted with ovular windows of gleaming blue glass, but only the biggest one even got close to the cavern’s roof. From multitudinous unseen cracks in that vaulted ceiling issued the seemingly inexhaustible water that formed the city’s constant downpour, which fell in buckets upon every inch of this place. Intricate wrought iron lined every rooftop, bridge, and canal, forming fences, lampposts, signs, spires, and more. Sailboats crafted from what could only be gigantic sheets of newspaper sailed the city’s waterways in unaided perpetuity. Since the tunnel emptied out onto a small dock and there seemed to be no other way off that didn’t involve swimming, the Seekers waited for one of the paper boats to arrive, boarded it, and rode across the water toward the heart of the city.

Nadia laid flat on the boat near the prow, her eyes closed as the rain fell upon her. The gunge and drek of the nightmarish dungeon, and all that tension and terror, were all washed away, leaving the feral drenched but centered and clean. The water felt pure and wonderful, bringing her momentarily back to the beach from yesterday, and that short but sublime moment when all her worries and cares floated away into the ocean blue. While this cleansing rinse wouldn’t cure her sickness, she felt a lot better.

After a couple minutes spent sailing through the deluge, the paper boat reached the city center, ringed by buildings, where it slid smoothly from the bay into a stone-walled canal. Nadia sat up, looking around. While she couldn’t get a grasp of the city’s exact layout from here, she could really get a feel for its vastness, and its hauntingly beautiful bug-gothic architecture. It wasn’t abandoned, either. She could see a number of citizens around, almost all of them non-human, whether bugs or monsters. On the edge of this canal sat a bug in the rain, drumming his feet, and for a moment he and Nadia made eye contact. He waved as she passed by, and she waved back. A number of ring-tipped poles protruded from the water, and the boat gently nudged them as it made its way toward a central plaza. When the moment came Nadia hauled herself up and hopped onto a little dock. Nice as the rain had been, she was beginning to get cold. Colder, anyway. Shaky on her feet, she plodded up a handful of stairs to the plaza itself. More bugs milled around the wide-open circular space, holding umbrellas as they traveled through the rain and lumafly lamplight. At the plaza’s very center stood a tall fountain, and atop it stood a big statue of a crown-wearing child.

Nadia stood and stared for a moment in muted wonderment, not really sure where to go from here. The blue windows that surrounded this spot felt like eyes staring down at her. Shivering, she took a look around, her gaze naturally drawn to the lights around the plaza. Most were cast by ornate street lamps, but she also found a lantern inside a sort of gazebo that stood on an adjoining promontory from the plaza, and in its glow she spotted someone familiar. With a start she realized exactly who she was looking at. “Wait, Cornifer!?” Utterly bewildered by his appearance here, she darted off through the rain as fast as her leaden legs would let her, and into the shelter of the gazebo. “Cornifer! Hey” she repeated, greeting him. “Weren’t you just in the Ruins? How…” She broke down into a brief fit of coughing, then resumed speaking in a hoarse voice. “How did you get here before us? We were going a million miles an hour downstream through giant monster guts!”

Cornifer chuckled. “Trade secret, hmhmhm!” He looked around the Seekers. “It must be your first time here. Welcome to the illustrious Home of Tears! I’d happily sell you a map, but…” The bug’s brows knit together as he beheld the sorry state of his acquaintances, and he rubbed his proboscis in worriment. “Dear me, you all look terrible!”

“We feel terrible,” Nadia told him, smiling weakly.

“You should get to the Sanitarium straight away then! The Under is home to many maladies that are not to be taken lightly! Here.” Cornifer dug in his bag for a moment, then offered the group a map. “You can pay me back later. The city is divided into four districts, all accessible by bridge from Fountain Central.” One at a time he quickly pointed out different parts of the map. “The Sanitarium is in Downtown, where most ordinary folks live.” He pointed to the southern part of the city. “Over there is the Collection, home to the city’s markets and factories.” He indicated a sprawling harbor district of books and paper to the west, over which the letters blotted from the pages of history by never-ending rain floated like bygone memories. “Here is the Amusement Park, the city’s humble entertainment district. The Grimm Troupe is performing there, so pay it a visit once you’re well, it’s sure to lift your spirits!” He pointed out the brilliant carnival lights to the east. “And the Royal Quarter, where Consul P rules over all from the great Gallo Tower.” He indicated the northern part of the city, where enormous high-class buildings bathed in pink light crowded around the foot of the city’s massive clock tower. “Careful not to run afoul of that young fellow while you’re here, he’s got quite the temper! Now hurry, and get well soon!”

Nadia sighed. According to the clock tower it was quarter after seven, and the team could barely lift a finger. Anything to do with a Consul sounded like a problem for later. It was past time for an evening of rest, relaxation, and healing. “Nyeah, okay. Thanks, Cornifer!”