Geralt merely raised his eyebrow as the man he'd addressed turned on him angrily, before adjusting his attitude once he got a look at the giant, heavily-armed and armored man. He was more amused than anything, especially given that he'd interrupted somebody clearly in a bad mood. The news was welcome, though: that the new leader was apparently much more strict on letting people in, to the point of keeping somebody who'd just been inside the walls from getting back in. "Hmm. Sounds like an ass." Geralt merely offered, looking around and seeing the rooftop the man had referred to. It indeed looked like it'd be a simple matter to get in from there, merely a jump to get inside.
"New guy in charge a real stickler, huh? Looking to get inside with some friends of mine. Feel free to try and tag along, but we're not in the business of charity." Geralt offered. Perhaps one of the others would offer a boost out of the kindness of their hearts, but Geralt wouldn't be the one. He stepped away from the annoyed man as Sandalphon announced that Goldlewis would be heading into a portal to chase after a woman taken by Chimeras. He'd happily leave the inter-dimensional travel to somebody else this time, instead getting a good look at the walls. They seemed fairly sturdy, though obviously not quite as heavy-duty as the walls protecting Midgar itself.
Zenkichi, meanwhile, was lucky enough to avoid any unfortunate run-ins with the locals, and found himself awkwardly climbing onto a rooftop to get a look around. His new vantage point hadn't offered much in the way of information, though he did have to steer clear of more pockets of red matter that H's drone pointed out helpfully.
After Blazermate's new information had been relayed to the group, Zenkichi got on the move. Back way in, on the right, just over the air duct, and drop down. All in all, it was fairly simple to do, though he was reluctant to pop up casually on his own in Sector V, looking the way he did. Instead, he kept his head down and took a quick look around exactly where he'd wound up while waiting on the others. If anybody came looking for a fight, though, they'd find him a lot tougher to push around than they might have expected.
With Sandalphon's healing topping them up and Blazermate coming in to keep them there while also providing support against the sisters, Geralt and Zenkichi managed to make fairly quick work of the Corporals. At the same time, the others were finishing off their own opponents, with Karin dealing with the Closer guarding the door into Zone 9, as well as a tricky Private that had almost managed to get a proper drop on her. The Seekers quickly reconvened on the entrance to their goal, and Zenkichi noticed the weapon that Charles had been wielding was just left there, ripe for the taking, and he nodded before grabbing it. "Sorry, Charlie, but I'm gonna need to take that off your hands."
Obtained: Closing Statement A heavy greatsword of futuristic make. It's shorter than one might think but quite wide, capable of high destructive power if wielded with enough strength. Even its crossguard or the blunt back of its blade can deal substantial impact damage. Its weight makes it impractical to use for defense however. It deals bonus Dark damage and comes with the weapon skill Closer: After an ally attacks, an enemy with less than 30% health, increases combat readiness of the wielder against that enemy by 35% and boosts perception for 20 seconds. Can only be activated once every 20 seconds
Closing his eyes and focusing on the sword, Zenkichi smiled as the weapon disappeared, vanishing into the same Cognitive Space that his revolvers and sword were kept. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of it." He reassured Charles half-seriously, before rejoining the others.
The Seekers headed through the door, with Goldlewis closing it behind them and locking their pursuers, about whom the others were blissfully unaware, behind. Walking out into the forbidden Zone 9, though, had Zenkichi covered in goosebumps. "Ah, man, I really don't like it here. Give me the heebie-jeebies." He complained to an eye roll from Geralt. The Witcher didn't have the same background in this city, however. Zone 9 was just not somewhere you went, period. The place was basically radioactive. He looked around the place, a bit more paranoid than might have seemed warranted for the other Seekers, though he imagined Goldlewis, Sandalphon, and H would understand, even if the latter of the three was only present via a drone. Redshift was an existential threat in Midgar, and Zenkichi had a daughter to go back to.
Zenkichi took a more circuitous route to their destination, not quite trusting the sheet-metal bridges to hold everybody but confident that his Cop Look would keep all but the most deluded denizens of this area away. It might do the opposite were he to face with a larger, more organized group, but it would serve for a quick trip around some fire escapes.
Geralt, on the other hand, simply waited for everybody else to cross before doing so himself. If the bridge could hold everybody else, including the massive Goldlewis, it could probably handle him. Thankfully, it did so, even though the groaning of the metal was definitely not comforting. Still, he made it across in one piece, so it was good enough.
As they approached the gate to the community they'd spotted, Geralt took notice of the man rambling to himself about the Hermits, and homed in, approaching and calling out to get his attention. "What's that about the Hermits? They keeping people out? Been looking to talk to somebody, hadn't heard anything about getting shut out."
As Sandalphon alerted, and distracted, the guard, Zenkichi made his move on the unsuspecting Private Atkinson, grabbing one arm from behind as he turned to the source of the racket. He violently yanked it from the man's rifle as his foot crashed into the back of the soldier's knee, and wrenching it upwards with a sickening crack, before ripping the helmet from the soldier's head and grabbing it with both hands to slam it into his cranium, rendering him unconscious. "Huh. Ya know, I...feel bad about how easy that was..." he murmured, leaving the KO'd guard to join the others in the thick of the fight.
Geralt had used the opportunity to shield himself with Quen, running out at a dead sprint to Gima Koch, who spun when he heard the heavy footfalls and unleashed a stream of plasma into his chest. Geralt didn't stop, even as Quen shattered, and rammed his shoulder into Koch's chest, sending him tumbling and fumbling for his sidearm as he recovered. The Samurai Edge flashed as Geralt reached down, the slow bullet it fired crumpling against the steel plate that the Harbor Demon's Spirit had given him, and Geralt yanked it from Koch's hands, tossing the weapon aside carelessly, retreating clanking sounds betraying that it fell far away from all but a flier's reach.
Geralt's victory was short-lived, as his prey refused to surrender, Galeem's curse still controlling him, and a face-full of dirt and seeds greeted the Witcher, vines rapidly growing from them and trying to bind his arms to his body courtesy of the soldier's Chlorokinesis. It wasn't more than enough to delay him, though, as Geralt's inhuman strength easily overpowered the plant growth, and a massive clawed hand grabbed Koch's face while Geralt straddled him, the other crushing his throat until the man's spasming attempts to free himself slowed, then finally faded. He held on a few seconds longer, to ensure the man was truly unconscious, then slowly released the chokehold as a burst of plasma flew overhead. Geralt stood, nodding at the non-lethal takedown, and cast the Sign of Quen to protect himself once more as he ran forward, towards the sister soldiers, who were trading potshots with Zenkichi, who was ducking between pillars and taunting them.
"Come one! Can't even hit an old man, can you?! Oh, hey Geralt! Now there's two old men for them to miss!" Laughing, Zenkichi popped out, only to get a face full of angry bats scratching, clawing, and biting at his face as a burst of plasma hit him in the chest.
"Idiot..." The Witcher mumbled as he charged forward again, the Phantom Thief shaking off the bats and trying to provide cover fire. As he approached the sisters, a mental hammer crashed into his skull, causing Geralt to reel and grip his head, pain overwhelming him momentarily.
As soon as it came, however, the Confusion ended, with the butt of a rifle cracking into Geralt's nose, followed by a point-blank stream of plasma fire that heated his armor and made it more than a little uncomfortable for a moment before the air rushed back in and cooled it off. Geralt lashed out with a punch, connecting and sending Miwa Marcias back as Zenkichi filled the air with bullets, also running up and calling on Valjean to protect Geralt with a Rakukaja. "I'd ask you to surrender, but I know that won't work." Zenkichi stated simply. "So I'm just gonna go with 'make this easy on us.'"
"Halo, give us a hand!" Geralt gruffly called, swinging the lighting-wreathed katana he took off of Monsoon at Miwa, while Zenkichi rushed at Natsuko. Both sisters were tricky to get a hold of, each having more than their fair share of tricks up their sleeves.
Natsuko ducked and weaved, tossing animal food on Zenkichi, marking him as a priority target for both the swarms of bats and Crysales, and more than once he caught his eyes drooping as he fought. Each moment of lapse cost him, as a burst of plasma knocked his sense back into him. Sandalphon took one such opportunity to snipe Natsuko as she paused to aim, sending the girl stumbling forward, Zenkichi pushing through the exhaustion to follow up with an upward swing of his greatsword, comboing into a sweeping horizontal slash.
Geralt, meanwhile, was having a much similar problem, with Confusion giving Mia ample opportunity to fire a blast of plasma into his knee, sending him down to one and causing him to hiss at the pain. He rose nonetheless, lashing out with his new lightning katana as Sandalphon shot Natsuko, distracting Mia for a split second, more than enough for a Witcher to capitalize on. The lightning gave him enough time to punch her in follow-up, and she rolled with the hit, retreating closer to her sister and attempting to use her Confusion on Zenkichi, only for Geralt to use Axii to stun her in turn.
"Thanks for the assist." Zenkichi nodded as Sandalphon appeared between the two men, staff in hand, to give out an area heal. Oh yeah, that's much better. Let's finish this!" He cheered as both swordsmen went back into the fray.
Leaving Ch'en behind to do with his warning as she felt appropriate, Zenkichi joined Geralt and the others in following H's drone towards their destination. As their goal was pointed out, Sandalphon wasted no time in pointing out the biggest obstacle to their goal: the G-Men staking the place out. They were, predictably, very poorly hidden, but that meant little in the face of their limited time window to get through that doorway while the cameras were down. Alerting them and starting a brawl was inadvisable. Goldlewis and Sandalphon were quick to come up with plans, and Zenkichi wasn't far behind.
Casually ambling down the street, he approached the dumpsters first, looking pensive and nodding. "I'm a garbage inspector. Ensuring the integrity of waste receptacles is vital to maintaining a functioning city." Slowly moving between each dumpster, he frowned at one, before shaking his head and moving on. Ignoring the first G-Man he passed and instead nodding at the trash can as if nothing was amiss, he "inspected" a second, circling around it and looking to the others for the signal. As Sandalphon signaled the team, Zenkichi's Phantom Thief attire appeared, and he hefted his greatsword, swinging it overhead and cleaving the trash can, as well as the G-Man inside, in two.
Geralt, meanwhile, was waiting a short distance away from any of the others and the G-Men, ready to serve as backup with a veritable swarm of Strikers that he could direct to help attack any G-Men that survived their alpha strike, as well as his hand crossbow. He didn't want to get any closer and arouse suspicion, but he could at least stay close enough to lend a hand if it was needed.
With the G-Men down and the team on the other side of the door, Zenkichi breathed a sigh of relief. "Man those guys were always awkward to deal with. I felt bad for them, kind of, before I remembered what Shadows really were. Khamsin...much as I couldn't stand the guy, he wasn't entirely wrong that they're basically just disposable cannon fodder. Even now, saying that feels wrong, but...it's whatever." Clearly not entirely over having to reconcile two worldviews, Zenkichi let the moment pass. He'd have plenty of time later to think about it. They had work to do.
The restricted zone before the door to Sector 9 wasn't terribly grand, but there were more than a few armed troopers, real soldiers this time, watching the place. Both Zenkichi and Geralt grimaced at the prospect of sneaking around, neither particularly adept at such maneuvers, and both realized they'd have to fight. "No way I'm sneaking past anything." Geralt readily admitted. "Get in position and get ready to strike, I can either join when you're ready or start this thing myself."
"Might be best to join in. If they all concentrate fire on you, well, I know you have that shield spell, but I'm not sure how long it'll last under directed fire." Zenkichi advised, thinking. "I can probably sneak around a little, but I've really only snuck past Shadows on low alert before. These guys aren't gonna be as simple to get around."
Nonetheless, Geralt took up a hiding spot behind one of the early pillars, ready to rush in when things went loud, while Zenkichi, being much less noticeable, slowly snuck through the restricted area, ready to draw his guns and start firing as soon as their cover was blown. It was less a matter of if, and more a matter of when. Geralt, meanwhile, would have a bit of a run to take to get closer, but his Strikers were ready to be called upon, and Quen would hopefully cover his approach as long as he wasn't being focused down too hard.
As their conversation died down, Goldlewis was approached by Giovanna, who mentioned needing to leave on a mission for Vernon without delay, and did so with a bit of a lackluster farewell, not that Zenkichi or Geralt could blame her for getting well away from the Seekers and their shenanigans. They were both a bit suspicious of the circumstances, perhaps owing to each of their own history of betrayals, but neither would voice their concerns, nor did they think at the moment that there was any reason for them other than a touch of paranoia.
Not long after, the companion (or more accurately, a drone/flying golem sent to represent them) that Giovanna advised them of arrived, and Goldlewis lead the way out after Mr. H's drone bade them follow. The former Secretary of Defense made sure Clara and her currently invisible protector would be alright, and while Zenkichi questioned the wisdom of leaving her to join the Sector 7 militia, he knew he couldn't be everywhere at once. He'd have to trust Tifa and the others to keep her safe, even with Svarog around to handle the heavy lifting in that department. Geralt, having seen the guardian in action, had no illusions that Clara's safety was all but assured as long as she had him to protect her.
As the group gathered with Mr. H's drone, Goldlewis introduced them, leading Zenkichi to grimace. "I only just realized, especially since we were talking about it a few minutes ago, but the Administration can probably follow us pretty easily if they track Benedict or I's IDs. I know you're in better standing than I am, Benedict, but it might be a good idea to get that addressed sooner rather than after getting ambushed..." Sratching the back of his head, Zenkichi lazily frowned and scuffed a sneaker along the ground awkwardly. Figured it'd be a good idea to bring it up, ya know?"
Nonetheless, it was a little too late to get an ID made up for him now, so he let that hang for resolution at a later date, while they got to the real meat and potatoes of this meeting: The Quarantine Zone. That godforsaken place was, of course, still on their to-do list, and with actionable intel that Jena Anderson would be around, rocketing it to the top of their priorities. Even Zenkichi, as laser-focused on Konoe as he was, couldn't deny that. The others agreed, and with the knowledge that this drone could help them detect and avoid becoming corrupted by Redshift, there wasn't a better time to address a potential alliance with the Hermits, who supposedly were able to hack into DespoRHado's servers, and try to get what they could out of Anderson. Even with her history, if they were planning on going against the Administration, they'd need all the help they could get. If it came to it, they could work on taking her down afterwards, as distasteful as it all was to Zenkichi.
The Seekers slowly meandered their way through Sector 7, some of the others catching the newer members up on the specifics of Spirits and Fusion, with Zenkichi keeping an ear out for any information he might've missed in his earlier introduction. The part about becoming a chimeric abomination stuck with him, and he looked Geralt over with a grimace. He wouldn't call the man an abomination per se, but he got the feeling that he and Midna were probably more extreme cases of Spirit Fusion. It only made him more wary of messing with that sort of thing. The last thing he needed was to wind up a woman on top of all this.
As they crossed into Detroit, Geralt was quick to break off from the group, promising to meet them at the inter-plate station he'd visited with Giovanna, Blazermate, Susie and Benedict earlier. His sky-hook in hand, Geralt made a hasty escape, easily avoiding much of the chaos in the streets below, even if he did come across a few punks here and there between lines. Any time he did, he kept his eyes forward and made no challenges beyond letting it be known that he saw somebody. Even for his size, while he could have easily barreled his way through anybody and forced them to move aside or be trampled, he made room aplenty and avoided a fight while he made his way to the next sky-line.
Zenkichi, on the other hand, had a much less simple time of getting through the Sector. While he'd never actually turned in his Turk badge, anybody in PubSec would know it was useless, and trying to throw his weight around here wouldn't get him nearly as far with civilians as it might have in the Upper Sectors.
But he knew somebody who might be able to give him a hand. Pulling out his phone and looking through his messages, he re-opened the one from a fellow former Turk: Ch'en. Letting out a little sigh as he read the message over again, he clicked on her name, his phone sending a call through. It was on the second ring that the line was answered, and a familiar voice responded: "Hasegawa? Is something the matter?"
"You still in Detroit, Hui-chieh-san? I'm free if you have a minute. Promise it's important."
"Of course, Hasegawa-san. I left the hospital not long ago, and am currently taking refuge from the chaos in a low-traffic area. I will send you my location now." Thankfully, it wasn't very far away, and with a promise to Goldlewis, Sandalphon and the others that he'd meet up with them at the station by the Quarantine Zone, he headed off.
It took a little bit for Zenkichi to reach the location Ch'en sent him, but as he ran down the street, he caught a glimpse of familiar horns and blue hair, skidding to a stop and resting his hands on his knees, panting a little. "Hey, just...hoo boy...gimme a sec...ran all the way here." Taking one last deep breath before pushing off his knees and standing up relatively straight, Zenkichi nodded. "Okay, so...long story short, I could use a hand getting out of here. With DespoRHado on the rampage, PubSec going wild, and just the gangs in general being a pain in the ass, I figured it was best to work together."
"I see. And I suppose it would be foolish not to agree, given that I have little to lose in doing so. I had originally planned to request Public Security send a vehicle, but when I read the news of my demotion, and the subsequent attack on DespoRHado, I was shaken. However, I did manage to secure transportation after...an incident involving those same DespoRHado remnants. They attacked a Public Security patrol, and I intervened to assist. After dispatching the cyborgs, the officers thanked me and sped off to respond to another incident. However, they left behind the vehicle that the cyborgs had been using. I, not wanting to be stranded any longer than I needed, commandeered the vehicle and was about to make my way out of the city when I received your message. Fortuitous timing, Hasegawa."
Nodding Zenkichi adopted his typical lackadaisical pose, shrugging. "So where's the car?" He asked simply. If whatever was left of Desporado without Sandalphon and her androids wanted to cause chaos, it was hardly a problem worth investigating if somebody were to take one of their cars and try to run away with it.
"It is just inside this garage. The building has been abandoned for some time, and I've come across it multiple times on my patrols. I've only once or twice come across squatters, and seeing that I haven't gone far, I wasn't worried about the vehicle being damaged or stolen. Shall we be off, then?" Ch'en offered as she opened the side door to the garage, pressing the button to open the vehicle bay door.
"Gladly. You're a lifesaver, you know that?"
"No one fights alone, Hasegawa. Especially now." More than you realize, Hui-chieh... Zenkichi mused as he got into the jeep.
The drive was mostly made in silence, though Zenkichi did leave Ch'en with a warning. "Listen, I...can't really explain much, but...I know what my reputation is like in PubSec. Just trust me when I say there's a good damn reason for it and you should try and get out of town if you can. Things are about to get a lot worse than this, and I heard some pretty good rumors that Reunion may be trying to make a big move." Closing the door before she could respond, Zenkichi looked over and saw a familiar unicorn giant, and gave Geralt a wave as he walked over to the Witcher. "Sky rails are cheating."
"Whatever you say." Geralt joked back, nodding at the vehicle, which hadn't left just yet. "Friend of yours?"
"The other Turk that got demoted after we failed to bring in the Hollow Child. Which was related to that Machine attack, and why PubSec wanted Desporado to take the fall. It was our fault they got the intel they needed. I just hope she's not taking it too hard. We didn't really talk about it."
Geralt of Rivia & Zenkichi Hasegawa With Goldlewis
Sector 7 Slums
Lvl 10 (185/100) -> Lvl 10 (188/100)
Lvl 4 (44/40) -> Lvl 4 (47/40)
Word Count: 2,265 words
Zenkichi and Geralt missed the chaos behind them as Goldlewis and the others behind them stopped, with the former Secretary stopping the flaming Motor Ball in its tracks. They pair continued onwards, hitting the boost pads and making solid time downhill. Before long, they had reached Sector 7 with the rest of the Seekers, Sandalphon's crew, and the tagalongs from Vandelay. With Chai, Peppermint and Korsica heading their own way, that left Sandalphon, 2B, 9S, as well as Clara and Svarog as their newest recruits. They'd have to make sure the androids, as well as Clara and her protector were freed of Galeem's influence, but for now, they made their way to the bar Zenkichi had stopped at after the Machine battle, everybody setting off to relax.
For a little bit now, Goldlewis had been contented to sit by himself, cooling down in silence with a glass of ice water. He'd picked a seat that gave him a good view of both everyone else and the door without even thinking about it, hung his suit jacket over the back of his chair, loosened his tie, and scarcely moved from that spot since. At one point he knocked on his coffin, which he'd set up next to his chair, and the entity within cracked open a lid to hold up a mirror so Goldlewis could fix his hair. Other than that, the heavyset giant mostly just enjoyed his well-deserved break, but it wasn't long before he began to grow restless. Feeling like he ought to do something, now that he formed part of a team. He ended up setting his sights on Geralt, since the man happened to be nearby. After clearing his throat, Goldlewis spoke to him.
"Good work back there, hoss," he began. "I reckon you were pretty out of your element back in Vandelay, seein' as the whole place was Black Tech top to bottom. I was a little worried, but it looks like y'all pulled through." His brows knitted together slightly. "N-now, I'm still strugglin' a little with everyone's names. Awful hard to keep track sometimes. You weren't with the group I met back in the desert, and we only really fought together down in the tunnels outside Sector 06. It was..." Goldlewis grimaced. "Guh...Garrett or somethin' of that nature, wasn't it?"
Geralt, having more consciously chosen a spot with fairly good sight of the exit, turned slightly and gave Goldlewis a half-nod to indicate he was paying attention as he started talking. He didn't know what 'hoss' meant, but ignored that particular quirk of speech. "Close. Geralt." Humming a moment as he looked around and took a sip of ale, he continued.
"You might be surprised to hear it, but I had some idea of what was in this world before Galeem brought me here. I mentioned last night that my daughter, Ciri, is a worldhopper. She went to a number of different world trying to escape an army, hunting her to try and use her power. She explained a world with people who had metal in their heads, waged war from a distance with strange, magical weapons, and people had their own personal flying machines. I thought she was joking."
Sighing, Geralt took another sip of ale. "We also have elevators in my world, but they don't look quite the same. Usually no more than some rope, a pulley or two, and a platform for hauling goods up a cliffside. It's not unheard of for a worker to go up with the cargo, but just using them here for going up a tall building...that's what's strange to me. Everything else, I just try and roll with. It isn't always easy, but I don't have to understand how it all works. Just that it does."
"Interestin'," Goldlewis murmured, ruminating on what Geralt said about Ciri and the otherworldly perspective her dimension-trotting exploits provided. Unless the phenomenon encapsulated multiple 'worlds' from Geralt's 'world', it rather flew in the face of one of the veteran's assumptions--that prior to the universal extinction event, there had been no intersection between different worlds. Goldlewis knew of other planets, of course, but never entertained the possibility of other human life coming to be on other planets.
When the Witcher continued, Goldlewis slowly nodded his head. "I use my world's magitech same as everyone else, but I don't got a magic bone in my body. All wizardry to me, an' I mean that literally. That's just how it is everywhere, I reckon. Standin' on the shoulders of giants so we can see an' reach even farther."
Not meaning to was philosophical, the veteran chuckled. "So, ah, it's Geralt. I gotcha." He stroked his whiskers. "Or...maybe I should call you Sir Geralt? You don't exactly strike me as a knight, beggin' your pardon, but I don't mean to assume."
Geralt nodded at Goldlewis' explanation that he was similar. "Ironically, I'm considered fairly adept at wizardry for somebody who isn't a sorcerer in my world. Not as good as some other Witchers I know, but Signs are simple, if intensive, magic. Few unmodified humans can perform magic, though, and only the most basic of Signs. Some are inrinsically attuned to magic, and become sorcerers or sorceresses. Though their numbers, as well as those of Witchers, are on the decline."
When Goldlewis mentioned Knighthood though, he chuckled for a moment. "I am, actually, a knight. For a while it was mostly a title I claimed to sound more official, on the advice of a mentor. Geralt of Rivia. A bout of fortune, ill or not is up for debate, resulted in me and my group coming across the Queen of Rivia as her and her guard were being attacked by Imperial soldiers. We helped her men fight them off, and she knighted me for my assistance."
Taking a sip of his ale, Geralt shook his head. "And then I left despite her orders to remain at her side, and from what I've heard, she's cursed my name since. Though I managed to...somewhat...clear it up with her son."
"Oh, hey, we talking magic?" Zenkichi asked, having been passing by with a beer, taking a seat with the other two men. "Gotta admit, the tech, magic or no, is pretty nuts here. Kind of invasive, too. I don't think I ever liked those stupid ID tags they put on us, but now? I like them even less."
Geralt's recollection of the events surrounding the Queen of Rivia and his knighthood piqued Goldlewis' interest. The seemed like a veteran, not necessarily of the battlefield like him, but of countless quests and misadventures, with a stockpile of stories to match. If so, that'd be something else the two had in common. Right about the same time that Geralt wrapped his anecdote, Zenkichi stopped to join them. While Goldlewis might not be as inclined to indulge in day drinking as the detective, understandable though it'd be given the circumstances, having Zenkichi around felt right. Though from vastly different worlds, and more wildly disparate in age than appearances might suggest, the three were ultimately old career men. It was more than happenstance that brought them together.
"No kiddin'," the former Secretary of Defense agreed. "I've been 'round these parts for years and I still ain't got fully used to it. It's like a whole alternate history, if the Original hadn't discovered magic back in 2010 and things just kept goin' the way they had been. Lookin' at Midgar now, though, I'm grateful. Things weren't all sunshine and roses back home, far from it, but I could still see it over the horizon, like a sunset over the western frontier--America the Beautiful. And as long as I kept that dream alive, I could keep pushin' forward, no matter how bad things got. Here though...it's just plain awful. Not just the Ever Crisis, but how folks treat one another, like human life ain't worth anythin' at all...it's enough to make a man sick." He chuckled mirthlessly.
"Right, I remember you mentioning America. I'm from Japan, myself, if the name didn't give it away." Zenkichi replied. "Though, I've never heard of magic, at least, not outside the Metaverse. It's a sort of...collective consciousness alternate dimension mirroring the real world." He gave in the way of explanation, taking a small sip of his beer. "Inside it, Persona Users like me and the Thieves can summon a companion, a sort of inner self, called a Persona, and use it to fight. We're stronger than normal in the Metaverse, and get crazy weapons like my sword and revolvers. Noir has a grenade launcher for Christ's sake!" Chuckling, he sighed. "Damn I hope those kids are okay. You mentioned that they got separated in the Metro, right?" Geralt nodded in response. "Maybe I'll head out and go looking for them after, or they'll find us after. I owe them. I owe them a lot."
Geralt nodded, thinking on his own search for Ciri. From what it sounded like, they were both missing their respective charges, though he was curious how a man like Zenkichi had wound up with the others. They were barely adults by his reckoning. He was likely a guardian of some sorts, though, and it wasn't like Dandelion was much older in comparison to Geralt, even if he was supposedly a man grown. "For what it's worth, it isn't much better on the Continent, where I'm from. Tensions are only just simmering down after a major war. All sorts of folk, different species, trying to get along together. It's...troublesome. Lot of hate. Folk not appreciating that we're all sapients. Main difference here is the scale, way I see it." Sighing, Geralt took a long draught of his ale. "Your world sounds downright idyllic to me. I'd love to see it."
For Goldlewis, it took a moment for Zenkichi's stated origins to really sink in. Japan? In his world, the island nation had been nothing more than a gigantic hole in the ocean ever since the Gear called Justice obliterated the entire country as her opening salvo in her war on humanity. That had been back in 2074, over a hundred years ago, meaning no man yet lived who could claim Japan as his home. In that calamity's wake, the few Japanese survivors scattered throughout the world had been more or less declared as national treasures, to be protected at all costs. Very briefly Goldlewis considered passing this grim chapter of his world's history, but as far as fun facts went it was pretty lacking in the 'fun' department, so the veteran decided to keep it to himself.
He could comment on the Phantom Thieves, though. "Those kids are tough by themselves, but together they're one hell of a team." He remembered fighting alongside them in Al Mamoon against the so-called Resistance, and the impressive Personas they summoned. "I reckon they'll be just fine."
The idea of his world being idyllic made Goldlewis chuckle. "Well, maybe there's a piece of it in here somewhere." That wasn't how he'd describe it by any means, and few had a better idea for how deep America's flaws ran than the Secretary of Defense. And that didn't include the Gears or anomalies like Happy Chaos. Of course, he couldn't level judgement at the state of Geralt's world himself. Midgar had proved that other realms could be far more screwed-up from a far more fundamental level.
Goldlewis shifted his weight, restlessly drumming his leg on the floor. As his attention shifted back to Zenkichi, he remembered a poignant detail that scrunched his brows together in concern. "Both o' y'all got it awful rough. Riskin' your lives day after day, away from your families, your li'l girls. Never knowin' if you'll make it back, if they'll be okay. Gotta weigh on ya somethin' fierce. Wouldn't blame y'all if ya left this fight to folks with nothin' to lose."
"Yeah, I'm sure they will be. Just gramps being worried..." After a moment's pause, he clarified the title. "That's what they like to call me, on account of my being more than twice their age. Little punks..."
Geralt chuckled, shaking his head. "Can't imagine what that'd make me." If even a piece of Goldlewis's world wound up here, if he could speak of it so fondly, even as an ideal, a dream of what it should be rather than what it was, it sounded like a good thing. When the former Secretary of Defense brought up their particular parental lots in life, Geralt just shook his head. "Couldn't. Having something to lose is all the more reason to stick around." Besides, as much as he hated Yennefer throwing it in his face, as much as he denied it to himself, Geralt did have a habit of sticking his nose in places where his help hadn't been asked for. For better or worse.
"Yeah, no way am I gonna sit back and just let other people solve the world's problems while I have the means to do it myself." not again... Zenkichi added, the last bit with not a small amount of a self-deprecative tone. "Besides, it's personal for me. Konoe...I thought I was done with him. He'd cofessed his crimes, I was right there when we arrested him. No, I'm in this for the long haul."
For his part, Goldlewis nodded and raised his glass. "Well, then, to savin' the world." Zenkichi and Geralt joined him, each raising their own drinks with a soft 'clink'.
New Strikers spiritbound: Monsoon A Striker that excels in hit-and-run assassination tactics with a medium cooldown. When summoned, he can perform a handful of attacks with his sais, separate into a magnetic tornado and then corkscrew forward, perform a leaping stab attack with high crit rate, throw a smoke bomb, or take a couple seconds to gather up loose metal into a large mass to hurl at a target (though taking too much damage during the charge will stop the move). He has the passive of auto-dodging slash damage and can therefore not transfer that type of damage to the host.
Zero A Striker that excels in hit-and-run assassination tactics with a medium cooldown. When summoned, he can perform sweeping elemental slashes with his katanas, hitting once with each, while moving in a desired direction. He can also throw two handfuls of energy kunai, or unleash a dual-element spin slash to clear an area. He has a passive that lets him deal extra damage to an enemy's back
As Geralt and Midna descended the L.I.F.T. elevator with Clara and Svarog, the Witcher looked over the mutilated body of Zanzo with a grimace. He wasn’t sure what they were supposed to do with him, but the more he thought on it, the more he wondered. These people could replace limbs with mechanical replacements, but how well did they replicate the function of natural body parts? Were they inferior mimicries used to get by, or a way to get an edge over others in one field or another?
His ruminations were interrupted by Zanzo waking up, and Svarog’s brutal killing of the Vandelay executive. He nodded, echoing Midna’s sentiment. “Might’ve been. I don’t expect we’ll get a warm welcome once we get outside, so we’d be leaving him at the mercy of whoever got their hands on him. Either they kill him themselves, or make him into our problem again.” He shrugged, watching as Midna collected the Spirits, and looked at the two he’d collected himself. He wasn’t keen to fuse with that miserable bastard Monsoon, and the other one was a mystery. Instead, he spoke low and slow to them. “I told you about making your own meaning. If you’re willing to see my words in action, I’ll give you a chance to hunt the weak a few more times.” Not much, as far as a speech to a potential ally went, but if he could get them as Strikers, they could prove rather useful. Monsoon was quick and effective in a fight, and he certainly hadn’t been held back by the Spirit he’d fused with.
Zenkichi, meanwhile, was quick to point the L.I.F.T. out and get the hell out of dodge with Karin, with barely a moment to spent ‘mourning’ Khamsin. He only sighed and shook his head upon realizing the mech pilot’s fate. Idiot. Soon, though, the elevator reached the ground floor, and the Seekers all met up not long after that. Geralt gave Sakura a couple of pats on the head as she hugged him, and relayed Tora’s decision to the rest of the Seekers. With any luck, the surviving executive’s decisions to make a deal and having a few more allies on the inside meant that Vandelay sticking around as a business could be turned in their favor in the future.
The arrival and Luka with Raz in tow, however, revealed something disturbing: some of the Psych-OSF were having their memories tampered with. Zenkichi rubbed his forehead in response to that news with a sigh. ”Man, that’s bad news. Yet another reason to take…” Realizing who he was talking to, and unsure of how much Luka was on their side in regards to everything, Zenkichi shut up before mentioning that Konoe was one of their targets. Geralt let out a small breath of relief, which promptly turned to resignation as a massive Shinra machine burst through into the courtyard, which Giovanna identified helpfully. Grunting, Geralt turned and ran, with Zenkichi not far behind.
That gap quickly expanded a bit, however, even with the boosts pads that Korsica, another Vandelay ally that they’d gained, helpfully showed them. Geralt’s enhanced physiology simply outpaced even that of a Phantom Thief, especially the oldest one by far. The Witcher followed after Roland, flying over the pit using the same launch pad, stomach protesting the strange movement, but the feeling ended quickly, and he once more found himself sprinting through the streets of Deep-Paris.
The denizens of the undercity were quick to get out of the way of the Seekers barreling down their roads, but a few unobservant folks managed to get in the way, forcing Geralt to leap over them, landing into a slide that slowed him a bit while the citizens ran in fear at the sight of Motor Ball far behind the Witcher. Zenkichi came a little bit after, Geralt having taken a moment to make sure everybody got the hell out of the way, and he quickly caught up with the Phantom Thief as they hit another boost pad, launching into yet another breakneck sprint.
After another minute or so of running, the pair came upon a construction crew which had blocked off the road they were using for repairs. Oh no… they both thought, crashing through the wooden barricade that had blocked the street off, dodging and side-stepping construction workers and machinery even as they sprinted through the construction zone. Geralt cursed and Zenkichi gave a quick ”Sorry!” to the angry workers as they yelled at the two. It was rough going, and Zenkichi ended up knocking over a toolbox, scattering hardware supplies all across the street, but they made it to the other side intact.
”…I hope they get out of the way of the giant robot…” Zenkichi muttered.
Location: Midgar Sector 06, the City of Glass Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Sandalphon Word Count: 10,376 (+11)
”Ah, gentlemen.” Karin tsked, walking into the room ahead of Zenkichi and Blazermate, hips swaying. ”The winds of fortune are changing. The meddler before you is Karin Kanzuki.” She bowed confidently. As she saw the size of one of the enemies, she focused on the shape of her ki and changed into a V-ISM combat style.
Roquefort glanced her way, curious, but if her words even reached Khamsin he ignored them. Instead his mech rushed at the giant wolf in a burst of speed, power building in his axe’s thrusters for a rocket-assisted cleave. Roquefort dropped down onto all fours and sprang backward using his arms. Khamsin’s axe missed by a mile, and as he struggled to halt his weapon’s momentum, Roquefort took the chance while crouching to thrash his tail to the left, then to the right, then spin around to send two blue energy tornados whirling toward his foe.
”If you both would be so kind as to cease this frankly ridiculous toy comparison contest and refrain from participating in the failure of statecraft that is warfare, I would be ever so grateful.” She said, and going by the smirk on her face, she was expecting them to continue to rip everything in this building apart.
"Well that’s not what I expected." Zenkichi admitted, frowning as the two giant cyborgs started duking it out. ”So, who are we helping out here? I feel like neither of these guys is exactly…respectable in any way, frankly.”
”I don’t know. Khamsin is a bit of a wild card, but he loves the common person. And I don’t know the other guy, he's nobody to me right now.” Blazermate said, flying into the room last as she had been making sure she
At that, Roquefort’s ears pricked up. “Not respectable!?” he barked, an expression of disbelief on his metallic, lupine face. He managed to contain his surprise long enough to leap over a shockwave Khamsin sent his way and come down on the mech with a double claw slash that doubled him over. As his tornados beat against the mech, locking Khamsin down, he bared his teeth at Zenkichi and Karin. “I’ll have you know I worked my bloody arse off to get this far! From death’s door to the top of the world, best in the business! If that’s not respectable…” When the tornados petered out and Khamsin began to rise, Roquefort hooked his massive claws beneath the mech’s undercarriage and heaved. “I don’t know what is!” With surprising strength he threw Khamsin into the air. Naturally the metal titan didn’t get much air time, but when he hit the ground he slid across the polished floor toward the Seekers, Khamsin yelling the whole time. As soon as possible he began to right his mech, which involved firing all thrusters in an almost breakdance-like spin to pick himself up, and right in the newcomers’ vicinity to boot.
”Yeah, I mean as a human being. Morally. Not as some heartless corporate cog.” Zenkichi rebutted, calling back after leaping out of the way of Khamsin's wildly flailing arms. ”Hey, be more careful where you swing those! You’ll bring this whole damn room down on top of us, you lunatic!” He chastised Khamsin, shaking his head. ”I know keeping your cool was never your strong suit, but gimme a break…”
“Buzz off, pipsqueaks!” the soldier roared.
Karin watched him spin from a safe distance, and as soon was he was done, she rushed in to punish the recovery, treating it like one of Sakura’s reversal uppercuts. She dashed forward and looked to drive her palms into the metal machine. ”Eeyah!” She was trying to gauge its durability. Bong! Karin might be strong, but this armor was designed to withstand tank shells. It would be easier to demolish a building by hand if she went at it this way.
Karin blinked in surprise. ”No, impossible!” She said, denying the thought outright. She began scanning the ugly mech for weakpoints. His big exposed human face was a good place to start.
Blazermate, being as cautious as she was with a big titanic battle like this, stayed out of the way of Khamsin's attack. ”Well… Make some arguments between you two on who is better. We’re just here to stop the fighting for now as there is a bigger issue around.” Blazermate said. Either way, she was showing her bias for Khamsin as she had healed him before and gave him a smile, well, what accounted for a smile on a robot with only eyes as their eyes for their facial expressions.
”I mean, honestly, I don’t care for either of them.” Zenkichi casually admitted, leaning on his sword as the two fought one another, even as Karin tested the DesporHado mech’s durability, frowning. ”Oh, okay. Uh…guess we’re fighting him, then? Or both? Both works for me.” Zenkichi said, hefting his greatsword and taking a fighting stance. ”But I think Roquefort is probably the bigger threat, what with the not being a rampaging psychopath with an insatiable bloodlust thing.” With that, he ran in towards the Vandelay Financier and started swinging.
”Both, of course!” Karin shouted back, affronted by the notion of anything otherwise.
Roquefort’s monocled eyes had been on Khamsin as he picked his mech up from where the giant wolf flung it, but before the mech could mount another attack, the CFO spotted a different kind of wolf charge his way. When Zenkichi struck him, Roquefort dashed away, his metal lips curled. His agility clearly put Khamsin’s to shame, but by the same token it cast a shadow of doubt on his own durability. “You’d bare your fangs at ME?” he growled. “You’ll pay the price!” He dashed about twenty-five feet at a time, twice in a zigzag pattern before leaping up to come down on Zenkichi in a giant slam. He reared back to let out a howl, then planted one forearm to take a gigantic swipe at the man the next second.
”Damn, he’s strong!” Zenkichi grunted as he barely blocked Roquefort’s slam, his bones nonetheless shaking from the force of the impact, and only half-dodged the follow-up, though he was able to recover from the stumble in time to call out for Valjean to attack, knowing he’d need some heavier firepower to deal with this baddie.
New Power Awakened! Offensive Improvement- Zenkichi gains the attacks Deathbound and One-Shot Kill. Deathbound summons a swarm of hands from the ground to deal Medium Physical damage to a wide area two times, with each attack being dodgeable. One-Shot Kill deals Severe Gun damage to a narrow area, with a high chance of dealing Critical damage.
”One-Shot Kill!” Came the cry, as Valjean’s spectral chains rose and lashed out violently at Roquefort. ”Blaze, I think I could use a hand. And I’ve got an idea.”
“Grragh! That’ll cost you!” Roquefort snarled as he reflexively clutched his chest. The armor held against Valjean’s spectral gunshort, but it dealt a grip of damage, and Roquefort clearly wasn’t happy about it. He backed up and hunkered down on all fours, his tail thrashing from side to side.
Blazermate meanwhile had been finding a good spot to summon her engineer spirit who got to work making his nest. While the big mechs played, his sentry could do quite a bit of damage. She then moved over to Zenkichi when she called him, with a plan ready to go.
Her lack of attention paid -and perhaps inherent bias- to Khamsin came back to bite her at just that moment. Annoyed by the sentry’s gunfire, the wannabe Wind of Destruction drove his mech across the room toward Roquefort with a tremendous racket, threatening to sandwich Blazermate and Zenkichi between the two titans as he left Karin behind. Rather than plow through, though, he released one hand’s grip on his axe and snatched Blazermate from behind. “I SAID,” he yelled, slamming her down into the floor. “Quit BUZZING AROUND!” He then fired his lateral thrusters in opposing directions, causing him to spin in place with the medabot pinned between hand and ground. Sparks flew, and a terrible grinding noise filled the air.
The move provoked a sneer from Roquefort at Zenkichi. “You’d best not get between us, small fry!’ He then whipped around to send two energy tornados the detective’s way.
Karin grit her teeth as her opponent escaped her, and was completely outraged as he targeted Blazermate. She yanked herself forward with her grappling hook to break out into a sprint. She flung herself feet first like a torpedo into the side of the mech’s knee, avoiding his spinning attack against Blazermate to slip past. Though the impact with a heavy moving metal object hurt her, the blow destabilized the joint enough to force Khamsin to slow his spin lest he lose control. Then she backflipped off and got right back to her feet, this time targeting his knee. She would stay until she got hit if she had too, she had to start causing enough damage to get him to release Blazermate!
Grunting as Roquefort’s tornados forced him to dodge away from Blazermate, Karin, and Khamsin, Zenkichi shook his head. ”You said not to underestimate you before. How about you take your own advice!” Drawing his revolvers, Zenkichi unloaded them into the robotic werewolf, calling for Valjean to unleash a Megido blast before grabbing his greatsword again and rushing in on the attack. He couldn’t ignore Roquefort, so he’d have to trust Karin to get Blazermate out of harm’s way for now.
“Oof, augh!” With such a big target, Zenkichi’s projectiles and spells were difficult to miss. Roquefort dodged out of the Megido blast as soon as possible.
Blazermate meanwhile, was not having a great time. Khamsin in his attack had managed to not only knock away all of Blazermate’s overheal, but was doing some good damage as her paint got scraped away from all the sparks and grinding on the floor. She had activated her projectiles shield, but she could barely really get a good look at Khamsin with it to do much to him, but the edge of the shield was clipping his arm, hoping that this would help her break free, or she could build uber fast enough to use it before her arm part got disabled. Seeing her get hurt, her companions also did what they could to break her free. Apparently Khamsin wasn’t all that bright, considering now he had lost some potential allies for no reason.
Much to Khamsin’s continued aggravation, Karin just wouldn’t let him grind Blazermate into steel wool in peace. The flurry of blows she dealt to his right leg’s joint, despite how much that must be hurting her in return, threatened his stability enough that any more thrust might bring him down instead. As he slid to a stop, he glanced down at the aristocrat from his cockpit with his jaw clenched and veins popping in anger. “I’ll kill you!” With one arm he raised his massive axe and brought it down pommel-first to try and crush her beneath it. In his mech’s other hand he still held Blazermate tight, increasingly tight in fact as he tried to crumple her torso in its giant red claws.
”You’ll try!” Karin shouted, eyeing his other hand out of the corner of her eye. She had to stop her barrage for a moment to avoid the petty little pommel crush.
Toward the other side of the room, the old dog unveiled a new trick. After circling around Zenkichi with a string of dashed he extended a fist, activating the gauntlet around his wrist. A Rip Line launched from it with a hook the size of an axe head, threatening to skewer his target. In the likely event that it missed, however, it went on to lodge into the wall behind Zenkichi, and Roquefort proceeded to pull. A smaller, lighter grappler might have shot toward the hook, but Roquefort instead tore out a chunk of his office wall that flew toward him from behind.
Zenkichi did indeed dodge the Rip Line that Roquefort shot toward him, but he frowned for a moment when the giant robot wolf did not drag himself in for an attack. It was the sound of the wall being torn free that caused the Phantom thief’s eyes to widen as he leapt for his life, diving to the ground with little regard for whatever situation he wound up in after, so long as he avoided the chunk of office that was being yoinked directly at him. He managed to narrowly avoid the giant slab, which promptly sailed toward Roquefort instead. The big bad wolf brought his other hand around to smash it to smithereens, then gathered himself and pounced at Zenkichi for another big slam.
”GYAH, get me out of this thing!”” Blazermate said, not doing so well with her only course of action to keep her healing beam and healing drone on herself as Khamsin’s mech kept her pinned and tried to crush her. This was doing damage to all of her parts in quite a rapid fashion, and that was not good.
With his spin coming to a stop and Blazermate requesting aid, Karin decided to take more direct action. She dashed away and then hopped up, curling into a ball before landing on Khamsin’s hand. She grabbed onto it and began slamming her fist into the wrist joint over and over, punching her knuckles raw to get Blazermate out of the vice grip. ”I have you!”
“You don’t got shit!” Khamsin barked at her. With both ladies on one arm, he lifted it up, adjusted his aim, then slammed it down right on top of what he correctly identified as a medical drone. Karin’s efforts had worn down his arm’s grip strength, but the hefty impact with the floor did the same for her, and when Khamsin tossed Blazermate into the air Karin went with her. He brought his axe back as they went up, then blasted its rockets as they fell, hoping to turn both to paste with one gigantic -but very off balance- swing.
Zenkichi, meanwhile, was doing his best to fight off Roquefort. His opponent had size, some speed, and power on his side, but Zenkichi had quite a lot of staying power for a guy his age. He sidestepped Roquefort’s slam, though it left him in a poor position to counterattack, and called on Valjean to hit Khamsin with a Triple Down as he tried fighting off his own foe. Roquefort howled and reared his arm back for another large swipe, but this time Zenkichi got the memo, barreling forward instead of trying to dodge, and he brought his greatsword down in an overhead swing to capitalize on the opening. The heavy slash to the inside of Roquefort’s arm elicited a grunt of pain, and he instinctively stepped back. Never one to settle for less, he turned his backstep into a retreating revolution and lashed out with a huge tail slap, making the most of his speed and range. Then Roquefort spooled up his arms and a moment later sent them into overdrive, advancing with a flurry of sixteen light claw slashes in the span of two seconds, fast enough to become a blur of blue energy. His attack rush ended with a wind up into another big swipe.
As Karin dropped in what felt like slow motion into the massive swing, several options ran through her mind. It would be easy enough, she thought, to use a grapple hook and pull herself in any other direction other than right into the axe. But that would leave Blazermate exposed, assuming the Medabot was too frazzled from her damage to swing. Blazermate needed protection. Karin fired her grappling hook at Blazermate and wrapped her into a hug, turning them around so Karin would be the first to get hit by the chainsaw axe. Then she pushed the bot out of the way with her feet and braced for impact.
Not wanting to be hit by that next attack and having gotten a lot of charge from the constant, and panicked, healing of herself, Blazermate activated her ubercharge, giving the same benefit to Karin who had managed to free her, even if this was a bit more of a follow up attack from Khamsin. The mighty axe swing, even if a bit haphazard, hit the duo, but did absolutely nothing but knock them to the floor, an impact that also did absolutely nothing. In fact, the recoil from the negated impact sent a shock through Khamsin’s mech, and with a terrific noise it slammed to the ground, its limbs slack. “What!? How!?” the soldier yelled, tugging at the controls to no avail as his systems struggled to reboot themselves.
Karin opened her eyes, glancing down at her own body to find it not only completely unharmed, but glowing with powerful energy. She pushed herself into a sitting position, looking to her Blazermate. ”A-ah, I see!” Karin got to her feet and began sprinting at the slackened mech, thankful her glowing body was hiding her somewhat embarrassed blush. ”Well done, Miss Blazermate!” She called out.
Karin leapt upon the damaged mech, grabbing the top of the cockpit with her hands and using her her momentum and strength to knee Khamsin solidly in the chest with both her legs. ”Hiyah!” The double knee smash drove the air from Khamsin’s lungs. Gasping, he brought his arms -still strapped with the controls for his mech, up in a block to protect his head. At the same time, the mech’s arms feebly attempted to mirror his action, their systems rapidly coming back online.
”Thickheaded brute! Your nature can’t be hidden by anything, not even this unwieldy machine.” Karin berated. She held onto the lip of the cockpit with one hand and fired her fist into the blocking Khamsin with the other. Turning around, she saw her uber fade and the mech began to come off line. So she finished off with a throw, grabbing both of Khamsin’s arms and pushing them to the side, before again kicking him in the chest and pushing herself away with an elegant backflip before landing on the ground.
Zenkichi managed to block the massive tailswipe coming his way with his sword, though it left him rattled and reeling when Roquefort started his whirlwind of slashes. As the first blows landed, Zenkichi managed to grit out to Valjean ”D-Deathbound!!”, which caused a swarm of shadowy hands to emerge from the ground beneath them, aiming to pummel the robot werewolf. Roquefort could either tank the hits and punish Zenkichi, or abandon the attack with the hopes of also dodging the swarm of limbs. Either way, the Phantom Thief, stubborn and strong as he was, was clearly not having a great time on his side of the fight.
”Help him!” Karin shouted to her medabot ally, pointing at Zenkichi. ”I can handle this one myself!” Ideally such a boast would bait Khamsin into focusing on her more. It was also just a good tactical move, because Karin was at full-health and overhealed after the ubercharge was focused on her.
Blazermate was mad, but she agreed. Either way, Khamsin had all of his weakpoints now highlighted as Blazermate registered him as an emmy, much like Roquefort. Although for Khamsin his weak point was the most obvious, his organic body.
Zenkichi clearly needed the help, too–Roquefort had not relented his assault even as the wraithlike hands of darkness gouged his metal frame from below. Once the flurry assault softened him up, the final hit sent him spinning to the ground with flesh stab wounds. Then Roquefort jumped clear of Deathbound’s shadowy miasma, shaken but not compromised. “Money…is power!” What should’ve been a moment of respite left him frustrated as Blazermate’s sentry targeted him, riddling him with bullets. With a growl he raised his arm, took aim at the stationary turret, and then shot it with a Rip-Line. Just the giant hook slamming into the machine was enough to disable it, but Roquefort yanked on the line anyway to rip the sentry apart into a shower of nuts, bolts, and springs. The damage he’d taken up to this point was nothing to shake a stick at, and he wasn’t keen to take any more.
Blazermate made her way to Zenkichi and started to heal him. She had used her shield and uber to get out of Khamsin’s grasp. She also called back her healing drone, as Khamsin’s attack had damaged it quite a bit. She’d need to save it for later. Perhaps while healing Zenkichi she could get some ubersaw hits in, but his opponent was quite fast.
During this time, Khamsin rose from where his mech had slumped down, the axe hefted in his hands as he heaved himself forward with one massive, loud step after another. “You little fuck!” he spat at Karin. He lowered his weapon’s head to the floor so that its teeth scraped against the floor, then slid forward and swung at the woman in a spray of sparks. “Ooooo-RAH!”
Karin concentrated intensely as the mechanical warrior carved through the floor to get to her. She didn’t want to underestimate his maneuverability or intelligence, though he had thus far proven to not have much in either. Karin walked at a brisk pace towards the charge to throw off his timing and then side-stepped the charge when she thought he had committed to it. Though she preemptively jumped over any sudden swings coming her way. With Blazermate exposing his weaknesses, Karin’s plan was to exploit his eagerness to kill her and punish his attacks. If all her evasion was successful, she plucked herself out of the air with her grapple hook and flung herself to the ground between Khamsin’s legs, looking to target that already weakened knee joint. Her fists were as strong as any steel and packed full of ki, and she put them to work with precise, strong strikes. And just like that she was out, dashing with one arm behind her and the other across her as his foot slammed down where she’d been the second before. Karin tried to put herself in an awkward space for Khamsin- just out of arm’s reach for his mech, but closer than the edge of his weapon.
Practically seething, Khamsin forced his mech to dash backward, then burst forward again. As he slid across the ground, he fired opposing thrusters, causing the huge machine to rotate. It whirled like a black steel cyclone, wreathed in crimson as his giant axe dragged along the ground, but with the damage to his leg he could only sustain it for a moment. When it ended, however, he let go of his axe to unleash a gigantic palm strike with the mech’s left hand.
Karin jumped back to avoid the cyclone strike. As she finished her backflip she flinched, closing her eyes a split second before getting slammed by a hunk of metal shaped like a hand. ”Ukh!” She strained, launched back across the room. She landed with a tumble, dispersing the impact and popping back to her feet, sliding back a short distance further. ”Simple.” She said, maintaining her composure. That was a heavy hit, but street fighters let no fatigue show. Let alone a Kanzuki. She began to advance again, showing no signs of weakness. Having tasted blood, Khamsin came to her. He lifted his axe onto his shoulder with a loud clang, then slid forward and reached out for the heiress with an unblockable grab.
Karin knew getting grabbed was unacceptable. She would have to hope he would commit to it. She walked forward and jumped over the grab, looking to land on his head. She attached herself with a grapple hook to make her harder to dislodge.
”Just keep me alive.” Zenkichi told Blazermate as he pulled out a handy device he’d picked up from one of the Machine Spirits he’d crushed in the Valley: an EMP grenade. Activating the weapon and tossing it at Roquefort, he then howled, activating Fury, and rushed forward, his attacks now launching small shockwaves of magic energy with each swing of his blade.
“OWWWWW!” the financier howled, his mechanical body crippled by the EMP blast. He crumpled to the ground, leaving just one Wolf standing and free to whale on him until the last of his body’s current stamina had been depleted. On the final hit, Roquefort reeled backward, his wolflife features collapsing and contracting until nothing remained but the man he’d originally been, leaning on his cane. Though he breathed heavily, his eyes smoldered with anger, and the other cyan elements on his body glowed with the same fervor as he glared at Blazermate and Zenkichi.
”Stay down. You’re beat.” Zenkichi said, once his rather cathartic pummeling session ended, Fury no longer active. He held his greatsword in a ready stance, threatening to pop it over his shoulder and cleave Roquefort down the center, even as the other man was clearly powering something up. ”I’m serious. I can keep going a lot longer. You can’t. Just surrender. You’ve lost!”
Blazermate meanwhile wasn’t as merciful. ”Zenkichi, without a friend heart, hes just going to fight til he dies.”
“I’m only just getting started!” Roquefort scowled and raised his cane, flashing yellow. Zenkichi sighed and popped his shoulder up, swinging with his arms as his greatsword came down directly onto Roquefort’s cane, stopping only once it had carved a solid inch into the cyborg, Zenkichi staring directly into his face. ”You said they-!”
But things hadn’t gone quite as he expected. The Roquefort that Zenkichi struck was a rough approximation formed from murky, purple crystal that welled up in the man’s wake as he stepped backward through the blow. Then the scapegoat crumpled into a pair of floating bombs, spiked like jacks. Completely untouched thanks to EX Amnesia, Roquefort turned to run as the dark magic bombs stuck to Zenkichi like glue to blow up in quick succession a second later. “Know your place!” After reaching a safe distance, Roquefort snapped his fingers, using Departure. The air cracked and became a dark void above him, and as soon as possible he then thrust his cane into the ground, giving rise to a geyser of dark crystal spikes beneath Blazermate.
Blazermate wasn’t really in a mood to deal with all of this after having her heart broken, almost literally, by Khamsin. She’d continued to heal Zenkichi in his fight with Roquefort using her only free hand before he teleported away leaving a duplicate in his wake and bombs on Zenkichi. Due to all the self damage he had been taking, giving him overheal wasn’t the easiest thing to do, and on top of that she had to deal with a spraying geyser of the same dark crystals he had started to use on Zenkichi.
Blazermate did an evasive roll in the air, using her shield to take the brunt of what she didn’t dodge. She was really sick of this fight though, and urged Zenkichi to close in on Roquefort so she could teach that man a lesson, keeping him healed like she had been as she was worried about him dipping from the bombs.
”Did not expect that…” Zenkichi muttered as he recovered from the explosion of the bombs that had replaced Roquefort. He charged back in, greatsword at the fore, and let off a series of mighty swings while calling for Valjean to unleash a Megido blast on the man.
A hefty counterhit put an end to his assault as a crystal spike burst from the void Roquefort set up earlier as a defensive measure. With a grunt of approval, the accountant thrust his hand forward to conjure a clone of dark purple energy, which surged forward at a low angle to deal Zenkichi a parting shot as he landed. By then, though, Valjean’ Megido was falling. If Roquefort set up another Departure he might have been able to escape, but going for an extra bit of damage meant he couldn’t do anything else but try to block, and the Almighty explosion proved to be too much. “Argh!” Smoke wafted off the new burns and rips in his fine suit vest as he skidded to a halt, thoroughly roughed up by all the chip damage. With a growl he snapped his fingers, and another cracked void appeared a dozen feet in front of him.
Meanwhile, Khamsin was trying to get Karin off the top of his mech. While his initial grab missed, he reached for her again after the woman anchored herself to his armored roof, blindly grasping for her. Due to the orientation his the titan’s arms, they could only reach from the front, but after a fruitless moment he changed tactics. Rather than try to grab her he plopped the arm down on one side of the mech’s top, then forcefully swept it across the other side like a giant window wiper.
Karin braced herself to jump when the arm dropped onto the roof, and it slid underneath her, dislodging her grapple hook. ”Hup!” She landed back on the roof and rolled forward, going to once again grab the lip of the cockpit and swing her legs under. This time instead of going for Khamsin himself, she targeted his wrists independently with both her legs. Then she did the splits, looking to pin his arms against the wall. Essentially doing the splits. She learned on her last little visit the mech arms mimicked his physical body’s actions. After that she attempted to fire her grapple hook into the palm of his right hand and then attach it to the interior of the space, while hopefully keeping his left arm pinned with her foot.
The speed with which she arrived and restrained Khamsin’s arms left the soldier with no recourse. He struggled against her strength, the arms of his mech split apart to match his own, but could neither free nor even defend himself. “Shit, shit!” he yelled, spittle flying as he tried in vain to fight back against Karin. “Psycho! Get the hell offa me!”
”Ohohahaha!” Karin laughed at his insult and struggle, not exactly disproving Khamsin’s notion. With one of his arms trapped by her fired wire, she used her hook to latch onto the lip of the ceiling and brought her other fist back, still doing the splits, and began punching him hard in the face repeatedly with her free hand. She would do this a few times before clocking him up in the jaw and chopping his exposed neck.
Khamsin yelled in pain. Still in control of the mech’s lower half, he fired off its boosters and directed it forward. The machine quickly picked up speed and shot toward the hallway leading away from Roquefort’s office. Its arms, spread wide struck the sides of the corridor upon entry. They smashed through the walls to an extend, but eventually the arms failed and snapped off, even as Khamsin kept going. He grit his bloody teeth, crammed his eyes shut, and forged ahead. After a couple seconds, the mech burst from the hallway and zoomed toward the balcony edge overlooking the Atrium with its monolithic statue of Kale. The soldier dug in the pitons on the mech’s feet, and its momentum caused it to pitch forward as it continued to carve furrows through the floor. Some part of his delirious mind meant to fling Karin off into the void, but with how things were going it seemed more likely the whole mech would be going.
For a moment Karin gasped, failing to take the legs into account. She kept punching, but was distracted, peering over her shoulder. When the arms failed and snapped off, there was no reason for her to keep pinning his arms against the sides of the interior with her legs, so she drew them in to give herself more balance and control. Thankfully she was still attached via her grappling hook. Karin pushed off and up, and let air resistance take her over the top of the roof so she was still on top of it, her free hand and legs trailing behind her. With a jolt she was nearly flung back over the roof of the mech as it dug into the ground, but she grabbed onto the underside of the roof with her free hand.
Was the whole thing about to go over the balcony? It pitched forward, Karin feeling her core get pulled off the mech. Karin steeled herself and kicked herself up, her feet going high in the air as she did a handstand stand on the edge of the mechs roof. Then she swung her legs down and under, slamming them into the mech and leaning back as far as she could, pulling back on the grappling hook with both hands in order to secure its free fall over the edge. Though with her underneath it she would need to act fast afterwards, should her plan work.
”Hiiiyah!” Karin felt gravity shift in her stomach as she strained backwards, her hair ringlets hanging beneath her. Then wind resistance took them and her as the mech plummeted head first over the balcony. Detaching the grappling hook, she kicked off and away, and fired her hook blindly up into the wall behind and above. She bounced against the wall with a thud and peered down to observe the fate of Khamsin’s mech.
With her assistance, the already dangerously fast machine lost control completely, and with nothing but a flimsy glass railing to bar the way, Khamsin went over. In an instant his anger and desperation evaporated, replaced by pure, raw terror. As he fell, his screams echoed through the Atrium. “Oh God, oh God, oh GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD…!”
Karin let out a breath. ”Goodness…” Swallowing dryly, she was reminded of her time helping in killing Sephiroth while still under Galeem’s control.”My victory was assured, but your death could have been avoided. Still, this wasn’t my first time smiting an evildoer, and it shan’t be the last.” She said, and began to climb her way back up using her grapple hook.
Back in the office, Zenkichi had rolled with the latest hit, digging his heels in as he slid to a stop and desperately dove away from the follow-up Roquefort clone, drawing one of his revolvers and quickly sliding a single bullet into its chamber to blow the clone to smithereens before standing and reloading in earnest. His attack didn’t have any effect on the glorified projectile, but at least it seemed extremely one-dimensional in its movement. ”Alright, stay away from the crystal stuff. I can manage that.” Zenkichi muttered as he snapped the cylinders of his revolvers shut and took aim once again, firing a test shot at the void between them. His shot did nothing to the void, but after another second of inactivity the tear in reality spat out a crystal spike on its own, its two or three feet of length nowhere near enough to reach him. Almost instantly the spike broke and the void vanished, and after throwing a low clone at Zenkichi Roquefort went to snap his fingers to place another void near him for safety.
Now that he realized what the voids did and what Roquefort was going for, Zenkichi tanked a hit from the clone, before taking aim at the Finance Executive and unloading with one revolver as he tried to circle around the void that he’d placed to protect himself.
His round connected with enough force to knock Roquefort over backward, and as he took damage the void he’d placed in the air mended itself. With a growl the financier pulled himself up on one knee. There was still plenty of fight in him. “You know, you’re only making me angrier!” His position might look like one of vulnerability, but it also allowed him to tense his legs like a trackstarter, and the next moment he sprang forward. As he ran toward Zenkichi he changed forms again, quickly growing as he reconfigured back into wolf mode. With deceptive speed and reach Roquefort snatched his opponent and ran with him to the vault door on the far wall to smack and pin him against it. “Let’s take this somewhere more secure,” he rumbled, his metal lips and teeth inches away from Zenkichi’s ear. “So we don’t disturb the neighbors…”
With a mighty shoulder barge he bashed through the unexpectedly fragile vault door, and huge chunks of it went flying across a second room almost as big as Roquefort’s office, lined with columns of safety deposit boxes separated by floor-to-ceiling equalizer lights and sporting a glass wall on the far side. The wolf tossed Zenkichi onto the floor, and phase two began.
Blazermate followed Zenkichi, keeping him healed as Roquefort’s charge pushed him through the vault door. Since she had been healing the guy this whole time, she had another projectile shield, and as round two started, Blazermate activated said shield and tried to keep Roquefort in contact with it.
The twin-tailed annoyance quickly found herself turned upon. Roquefort let out an ear-splitting howl using Valkyr’s Warcry. The enormous buff boosted his armor strength by 45% and melee speed by 30% while also slowing down everyone within twenty-two meters by 25%, all for the next twelve seconds. While the slows from the projectile shield and Warcry balanced each other out, that still left the melee speed boost, so when Roquefort attacked Blazermate with the slash flurry he used earlier, he could get out a whopping eleven strikes per second for total of twenty-two rather than sixteen by the time he went for the final slam.
Zenkichi, a little bruised from the dragging charge, turned to Blazermate as Roquefort started unleashing a furious combo on her and gave her a quick defense boost with Rakukaja, before drawing his greatsword and rushing in to take advantage of not being targeted for once. He genuinely had expected Roquefort to be on his last legs, but he still had plenty of fight left in him thanks to Blazermate’s healing. He might as well return the favor.
Blazermate used a combination of her energy shield and her own shield to try to block the flurry of attacks heading for her. Due to the chaotic frenzy of the attacks, Blazermate couldn’t easily predict what distance to project the energy shield to block some of his attacks, so while a couple clashed against the projectile shield, most plowed through at which point she had to try to block them as best as she could. Either way, while she was taking damage, so was this guy as the energy shield zapped him, albeit lessened by his armor boost.
As Blazermate took the last hit of Roquefort’s attack rush and flew away, Zenkichi closed in and landed a good string of attacks. The giant wolf dashed away after he finished, quickly moving to the other side of the room by the glass wall. There, he let out another resounding howl, a yellow flash appearing behind him with big bold text that said BIG BAD WOLF, then began to breathe in. After sucking in vast quantities of air, he leaned forward onto all fours with his claws dug into the floor. A moment later, a cyclone funnel as tall as a bus blasted toward Zenkichi.
As Roquefort started sucking in air, Zenkichi’s eyes went wide as he recognized what was about to happen. Not specifically, but he knew a heavy attack when he saw it coming. ”Valjean, quick! One-Shot Kill!” He cried as he hefted his greatsword, using it to block what he expected would be a furious dash attack, instead finding himself flung backwards by the cyclone and slammed hard into the wall behind him.
As the whirlwind took hold of Zenkichi, his Persona’s magical bullet hit Roquefort in the forearm. He expelled the last of the air he’d taken in as a distorted yelp and rose, shaking his clawed hand like he’d just burned it on the stove. Of course, he got out of the exchange much better than his opponent, and the CFO gave a grim smile. “Just had to stick your noses in, didn’t you? But you ended up getting a lot more than you bargained for.” He turned his head and narrowed his eyes at Blazermate. “It’s not too late to run away. Or are you ready to bet your bottom dollar?”
Grunting and forcing himself to stand, Zenkichi took a deep breath before drawing his one loaded revolver and firing every round in the cylinder at Roquefort before calling for Valjean again to hit Roquefort with Megido and drawing his greatsword. ”I’m not going anywhere, man. You don’t hit as hard as Japanese cops do.” He taunted, semi-serious. The beating he got in custody wasn’t all that bad compared to what happened to Joker, but getting your head slammed into a metal interrogation room table hurt like hell. He could handle this, even though he ached like hell right now.
When Zenkichi opened fire, Roquefort put up his guard to mitigate the damage, but he kept a monocled eye out. When Valjean manifested, the financier knew that one of just a couple abilities must be in store, and he wanted neither to hit him. As Megido descended he mostly dodged it, only getting his tail clipped by the explosion, though that still damaged its tornado generator enough to disable that move. Roquefort bared his teeth and dashed in, closing the distance in a heartbeat to face off against Zenkichi’s greatsword with energy claw slashes, always with half an eye on Blazermate. Several times now the Medabot had acted with utter impunity, as if she never expected to be hit. If she tried to interfere again, he would prove her very wrong.
Well right now Blazermate was on the defensive more than the offensive, after having been hit so many times this combat. She had to spend a fair amount of time healing herself due to all the focus on her, but at least for now she wasn’t going to attack Roquefort right now. Either way, with all the healing, she’d have another kritz here soon.
Zenkichi did his damndest to match Roquefort blow for blow, but he certainly wasn’t fast enough to do any kind of fancy parrying or blocking like Geralt had when they fought. Where he shone, however, was his ability to soak damage. Only Ryuji, or some of Joker’s more defensively-oriented Personas, could rival him in that regard.
And Ryuji didn’t have Rakukaja back up. Giving himself the defense boost this time to buy time for Blazermate to heal herself while his life leech kept him going, Zenkichi roared in defiance with each swing of his greatsword, even as he and Valjean started to flag. They could do this. They could do this!
“Hmph!” After the storm of blows subsided, Roquefort dashed backward again. He’d left Zenkichi seriously hurting as Blazermate attended to herself, but the detective had given as good as he’d gotten. Fresh damage to Roquefort’s arms, head, and torso could be seen all over. “Not bad. But your mouth is writing checks your arse can’t cash!” He howled, unleashing what remained of his shields. The wave rippled across the room just far enough to reach Zenkichi and afflict him with paralysis. Then Roquefort reeled back to use Big Bad Wolf again, inhaling deeply. If he couldn’t evade or contest the unblockable wind funnel, the man would be blown away.
Unfortunately for Roquefort, Blazermate was one of a few who could clear status conditions and upon seeing Zenkichi get afflicted with paralysis, was on point to quickly give him a surge of healing energy, clearing the status condition almost as fast as he had gotten it. This also gave him a little bit of healing, but probably not enough to really make too much of a difference, depending on how long Roquefort was charging his attack.
”We’ll see who's ass can’t cash checks!” Zenkichi replied, before frowning. That was horrible. He barely registered the paralysis, so quick was Blazermate’s healing. He ran in and capitalized on Roquefort’s charging time with a howl, stabbing his greatsword directly at his torso, then brought it around for a series of powerful slashes, getting ready to try and dodge to the side if he didn’t manage to keep Roquefort from charging this attack up. No repeats of last time here.
Zenkichi’s rushdown brought him beneath Roquefort’s head just before the gale winds ripped forth behind him, so they did little more than dramatically billowing his longcoat as the detective went on the offensive. His attack rush against the wolf mech’s armored torso dealt enough damage to trigger the armor case’s emergency shutdown mode, and as Roquefort staggered backward, he shrank back down into his short, squat self. “Augh! Lay off!” With no time to run or prepare, he could only hold tight to his cane as he went to defend himself.
Blazermate, seeing an opening, decided to see if she could get some more uber from this fellow as she pulled out her ubersaw and tried to hit him a couple times. She had healed herself up a bit, but both her and Zenkichi needed more of it. Still, if this guy was weak now, more uber would be helpful in case he pulled out another whacky power.
Zenkichi planned to take full advantage of Roquefort’s reduced size and speed and whale on him just as hard as he had been before, each blow given reinvigorating him just a little bit. What part of him might have felt bad for beating on this old man had been wiped out by the vicious beating he himself had received. Unfortunately for him, things went south almost instantly. Roquefort had bit his tongue while Blazermate poked at him with her doohickey, but the minute Zenkichi tried to punish him he whipped out Old Reliable. EX Amnesia completely nullified the detective’s first strike and stuck him with two floating crystal bombs. “They never learn,” Roquefort declared, psycho power welling up into an orb in his free hand. By crushing it in his palm he unleashed his pent-up super meter on Lovushka, creating four voids around his enemies, two at knee level and two above their heads. “Do enjoy this.” Then he just sat back and blocked to stop a possible hit from canceling out his projectiles, and watched the show. One after another, clones shot from each void in turn, the order being low in front, high behind, low behind, and low in front, with the Amnesia bombs going off in sequence somewhere in the middle.
As the crystal bombs appeared, Zenkichi cursed and redirected the swing of his greatsword, though the heavy weapon carried too much momentum for him to get out of the way in time. ”Ah, damn!” He grunted as he was hit in quick succession by the clones before the bombs went off in his face, though he managed to get out of the way of the last clone with a lucky dodge as he stumbled from the third clone’s hit. Breathing heavily, Zenkichi let the tip of his greatsword hit the ground, looking back up at Roquefort.”Man, I’m…used to having a lot more healing than this. No..no offense, just. Hoo boy.” Zenkichi complained. Joker typically kept at least one Persona that could give a heal, and almost all of the other Thieves had something they could top him up with. Blazermate was just one medabot, though.
”Perhaps you’ve come to rely too much on abundant healing then, Mister Zenkichi.” Karin said coolly, landing at his side from a grapple hook swing into the room. She took her fighting stance at Zenkichi’s side, trying to size up her new opponent. While she, of course, rated Zenkichi’s skills as lower than herself, with Blazermate’s help, the only way Roquefort should still be fighting on even terms was if he was exceptionally talented. No doubt boosted by the wicked rules of the world they inhabited (otherwise Karin would be at the top of the pyramid of power where she belonged).
With victory seemingly in his grasp, Roquefort took one look at the newly-arrived heiress and decided she needed to be dealt with straight away. He snapped his finger to set up a Departure in front of him for defense, then raised his cane and shot out a Psycho Power clone at her, its hand outstretched.
”Yeah, well if I could use Medigolaon or Agneyastra we wouldn’t be talking here…” Zenkichi muttered, frustrated at the block keeping him from accessing Valjean’s most powerful abilities, but he shook his head and did his best to keep in a good stance, sidestepping the attack that was not aimed at him.
”Well sorry, I'm not a Neutranurse. But you don’t want one of those anyway. All they can do is heal, and they crumple under any sort of pressure.” Blazermate said, moving back and getting ready to deploy her next super buff, giving everyone some healing as Roquefort was in more of a defensive stance now, with his damage output plummeting. Once he was open though, some Kritz would show him what for.
Karin opted out of the quips, her eyes widening in confusion as the violet shadow streaked towards her. ”Psycho power?!” She exclaimed, baffled. She crossed her arms in front of her to block the projectile. Roquefort’s Embrace promptly snatched her in an unexpected command grab, and as the financier raised his hand into the air, so too did the clone lift Karin. “Away!” He closed his fist and the clone exploded, knocking Karin down. His Departure went off a moment later, though way too far away to actually extend the Embrace into a combo, and Roquefort began to set up another, this time directly over Blazermate.
Karin compressed her lips, angrily dusting herself off as she rose into a standing position. ”Simple.” She said, intent on never falling for an attack as simple as that again. Karin dashed in, going low as she saw the object appear over Blazermate, assuming it was some kind of attack. She went to crack his leg with a balanced crouching kick. Roquefort responded by blocking low, though when it came to melee combat in his human form he wasn’t as fit as he could be. Karin’s kick dealt a little more chip damage and left him in a little more blockstun than normal.
Karin noted this, and dashed in to do a repetitive series of palm strikes, expecting Roquefort to block most of them. It wasn’t a true offense, Roquefort could interrupt at any time, but Karin looked to suppress this instinct by following up with a wickedly fist downwards backhand that would shove Roquefort out of danger if blocked but would crush him if he attempted to interrupt.
”Let me know when one of you wants a kritz to finish this guy off. I don’t think that defense will handle that very well at all.” Blazermate said, ready for this fight to be over and done with.
”More than happen to put this guy on his ass.” Zenkichi grumbled, moving in to assist with the pummeling with an overhead slash before shoulder-checking Roquefort and launching a slow, heavy follow-up slash from his hip to his shoulder. He finished the short combo with a call to Valjean, ”Triple Down!”
When Roquefort saw Zenkichi’s big swing, he seized his opportunity. Once again he used Amnesia, planning to catch the man mid-swing, but the detective held it for way longer than he expected, and Amnesia failed. “...Oh dear.”
The Triple Down blasted him backward, smashing him through the glass wall. He sailed out over a gigantic hoard of gold coins covering the vault’s entire floor, dozens of feet deep. While common sense would dictate that he’d splatter against the top of the coins like a bug against a windshield, Roquefort disappeared into the pile as if it had the consistency of sand, only a splash of coins heralding his impact.
”Uh….now that’s some cartoon logic right there.” Zenkichi simply stated, blinking.
“Hmph!” After a moment, some of the coins began to shift. Roquefort’s head poked up from the hoard as he calmly climbed out, adjusting his tie as the money jingled noisily. “I put my stock in futures.” With a frown he delicately pulled off his monocle and slipped it inside his vest. “...But not yours.”
With that he quickly transformed again, regaining his giant wolf mode. “The funny thing is, you all think you can win, heheheh,” he chuckled, his deep voice filling the vault chamber. He sounded tired, but pissed. “But my Rage Drive fuels me. As long as you keep making me mad, I’m not going anywhere.”
”You’ve gotta be kidding me…” Zenkichi muttered, shaking his head. ”So, what, do we just…not hit him? Let him just kind of tucker himself out? Or what, just keep hitting him until he’s too tired to keep going? This is getting ridiculous…” Nonetheless, he jumped once more into the fray, rolling his shoulder and hefting his greatsword after he landed. ”I’m good to keep going.”
”Well, I doubt he can survive a Kritz. I gave one to Bowser once, and he killed an immortal lich girl with an army of undead that took over an entire sector .Robo wolf can’t be nearly that strong.” Blazermate said, pointing out that he can’t last forever. ”If he was that strong he would’ve taken over the city, beaten the ever crisis, and expanded anyway.”
”Everybody’s got a limit,” Zenkichi agreed. ”Alright, lay it on me.” And with that, Blazermate gave him the crackling blue energy of a krtiz boost, with her own arms glowing with the same energy, as Zenkichi’s weapons also glowed with the same energy.
Thrumming with kritz energy, Zenkichi charged forward, intent on ending this fight. He roared as he clashed with Roquefort, putting as much as he could behind each attack he let off. Blazermate holding the Kritzkrieg’s beam on him would keep him standing, hopefully, while he overpowered this False Wolf in front of him. He swung, and swung, and swung furiously at Roquefort, an overhead swing followed by a horizontal slash, which was then followed by an overhead swing. He finished the combo by kicking off the ground with one foot, spinning in the air, and hefting his sword with him in a near-360 degree overhead swing from where the last landed, using both his body weight and the momentum of his swing to maximize the damage he dealt.
More than able to hear what Blazermate said about the ‘kritz’ and see what Zenkichi looked like in possession of them, Roquefort pulled out all the stops. He reared back, but rather than howl, he screamed. The blue light in his body turned from blue to a searing yellow, extending his claws into vicious talons. With Valkyr’s Hysteria online, he charged across the dunes of coins to fight Zenkichi to wolf-to-wolf. He fought with savage, reckless abandon, not even trying to defend himself as he scored hit after grievous hit. And the reason why quickly became abundantly clear:
Roquefort wasn’t taking any damage.
He laughed as he fought, shrugging off every hit with minimal effort. “Are you beginning to understand?” After a few seconds more Zenkichi’s kritz ran out, and Roquefort leaped into the air, somersaulting rapidly. “Money. Is. Power!” When he came down, he did so with a titanic slam that sent a wave of coins through the entire hoard. The detective dodged the deadly blow, but a moment later, Roquefort ran out of Energy. Hysteria deactivated, and as it did thirty percent of the damage Roquefort took while using it radiated outward within five meters as Impact damage, practically pulverizing all the gold in his immediate vicinity.
Zenkichi groaned as Roquefort’s explosion vaporized a huge amount of gold. ”Gotta be kidding me..” He muttered as Valjean manifested behind him. He was tired, sore even with all the healing he’d been getting, and frustrated. This guy seemed to just keep going. Whatever that Rage Drive crap he was talking about was, Zenkichi couldn’t be sure. Some sort of software in that robot body of his? Did it absorb his adrenaline and use it to power his werewolf form?
This was out of his wheelhouse. ”Blazermate, got any ideas to keep him from transforming back if we can pound him back down?” He asked as he moved back in to fight.
Karin watched all that from a safe distance as soon as Zenkichi took over. She jumped back to the side of her allies. ”The Rage seems to be over, now, yes?” She pondered. ”He baited out the use of our most powerful move by using his. But he was losing the battle before, and he is still losing now.” Karin said.
“You wish!” Roquefort told her halfheartedly.
”Are you alright?” She asked Zenkichi, standing in front of him and eyeing Roquefort down. She was preparing for an all out assault from the frenzied wolf, and was ready to try and counter any moves he threw her way with a dodge and a punish.
She eyed Roquefort, though, and hoped to extend the lull in the battle to give her friend some time to heal. And maybe something good would come out of it. ”Even if you win this battle, your company is in shambles and will soon be under new leadership. You’re smart enough to understand there are more types of power than money, yes?” She said, eyeing the preposterous amount of gold coins all around them. The financier grunted resentfully.
”And my goodness, sir, have you ever heard of a bank?” She asked.
Roquefort huffed. “Those DespoRHado fools aren’t trying to take us over. They’re trying to take us out. They’ve done some damage, sure, but they won’t win. And we’ll bounce back, like always. As long as we have the capitol, anything’s possible.” Though still ‘in the fight’ he was using the lull to recover his stamina and shields too, but as his heartrate slowed his anger was slowly subsiding. “Speaking of, perhaps I could pay you to piss off. Killing you in here would make a fine mess, and laundering money is illegal, you know.”
”Ah, too true, on all counts.” Karin said with a little laugh. ”Still, I know a bad investment when I see it, and a private security company being invaded isn’t a good look for investors, though it hardly reflects much better on DespoRHado. Speaking of which, you know we’re not with them. We’re here to change things. For the better.” She turned over her shoulder at her two allies with a raise of her eyebrows, like she was a little surprised she had actually gotten into a conversation with him at all.
“You attacked me first!” Roquefort protested.
”Well, we also defeated your other attacker, so maybe we’ll just call it even?” Karin offered cheekily. ”There is one more type of power, the one most potent: knowledge.”
Blazermate let out a mechanical sigh. ”I suppose loot is loot at the end of the day. We’ve got important things to do and I suppose we were here to break up the fighting here at the end of the day. ” She said, annoyed with the fight but healing her own wounds back up as everyone else was also taking some time to rest. Pulling out a friend heart, she said. ”We can talk civilly.” and with her flight speed, got in range to smack him with it as he was also recovering.
“Augh!”
Zenkichi let out a long breath, stowing his greatsword and lifting his hands above his head to breathe a little easier. ”Yeah, I’ll live.” He confirmed to Karin before taking a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, and letting it out before shaking a little weariness out of his bones. ”Finally, change of heart done with!” He cheered half-heartedly, looking around. ”Man, what I wouldn’t give to have this much cash stashed under my mattress.” He joked, locking his fingers behind his head as he looked around.
“Urgh…” Roquefort put a hand to his head as he shifted back into human form, leaning on his cane knee-deep in gold coins. “Let’s just…call it even, then. You’re right about that DespoRHado goon, after all.” He gave a mirthless chuckle at Zenkichi’s joke. “Heh…heh heh…if only this were all mine. Still, email me your routing number, and I can approve an expense from Accounts Payable.” He pulled out a business card and with an expert hand tossed it to Karin like a frisbee. “Somethin’ tells me our pool of liquid assets is about to get a lot shallower…ugh, damn it.” He winced, glancing at the Seekers. “Off with you then.”
Karin caught the card between her fingers. ”A reasonable conclusion. I’d give you mine but…I didn’t bring my butler with me.” Karin said. She made a mental note to back and retrieve her assistant. She’d gone too long without one.
”... Does, does anyone have a banking account here? I think only Susie does, right?” Blazermate said, looking a bit dumbfounded and frankly, confused since this didn’t involve anything a medabot ever dealt with.
”I literally live here…” Zenkichi reminded her, scratching the back of his head. ”You guys beat me up and did that to me, like…two days ago.”
”Oh… right. I forgot. I’ve been like, in so many different weird places it’s hard to keep track of every little detail.” Blazermate said, lightly bonking herself on her head. If she had a tongue, she would be sticking it out.
Shaking his head, Zenkichi chuckled a little. ”Nah, I get it. It’s…a lot. And yeah, I’ll probably take you up on that, sir. And uh…I guess it’s time to go?” He shrugged.
”We must reunite with the others as soon as possible. I doubt everyone will be as open to diplomacy. Khamsin certainly wasn’t. I doubt he still lives.” Karin said, moving to leave the vault.
Location: Midgar Sector 06, the City of Glass Geralt’s @Multi_Media_Man, Tora, Mayer, Sandalphon Word Count: 5,864 words (+6)
When Monsoon hit the ground, Mayer and her bevy of Robotters turned their attention toward him. “Alright, Meeboos! let’s make sure he stays down!” She jogged toward the fallen Wind of Destruction and sicced a Robotter on him, which ran ahead and jumped at him as he tried to rise. Monsoon, however, recovered unexpectedly quickly, and before the Robotter landed on him he cut its jump short with a sai through its chest. Mayer activated the detonation sequence, causing her minion to spark brighter and louder, but Monsoon recognized what was happening fast enough to twist around and hurl it back in Mayer’s direction. Just before it could smack into the Anaty’s pack and cause a devastating chain reaction, a jolt from her Short Circuit disintegrated it, and its disappearance gave Monsoon a good view of the enraged look on Mayer’s face. “Oh, you’ve done it now!”
Geralt charged at the Wind of Destruction through the smoke cloud left by the small explosion, sword sheathed on his back and claws ready to tear through the nihilist. Figuring that it would be best to match his opponent in the number of weapons they brought to bear, he slashed at Monsoon with a quick combo of attacks, caring more at the moment for getting an idea of Monsoon’s fighting style than dealing any real damage.
Though smaller than his assailant, Monsoon was fast, and his sais moved like a natural extension of his body. He sized Geralt up at a glance, recognizing his greater reach and natural strength, but also identifying his shortcomings. If this man wanted to stow his weapons and play around, he would come to regret it. Very much going for damage, Monsoon swerved and struck like a snake, making the most of weapons his foe clearly knew nothing of. He deflected Geralt’s swipes and swats whenever viable but was not afraid to take a few errant scratches if it meant maintaining advantage or landing a hit on his own. Neither his metal body nor chain mail could be effectively cut, but the latter could certainly be pierced once the easy-to-hit Queen shield went down. Pretty quickly Geralt found himself stabbed in a half-dozen places, and though Monsoon hadn’t targeted anything vital yet, his repeated thrusts to Geralt’s forearms and hands made his plan of methodical disarmament clear.
Before too much could happen, though, the Witcher’s allies joined in the mix. Tora barged in from the side with his Sabo Shield extended to try and knock Monsoon over. The Cambodian vaulted over him cleanly, putting a little distance between himself and Geralt so the man couldn’t immediately capitalize, but right on Tora’s heels came another of Mayer’s Robotters. Monsoon whirled around to impale it send the four-legged bomb back to sender just as he did before, but while everything going on made him a little hasty, Mayer had grown wiser. The young woman yanked on her Robotter’s wire mid-pounce, halting its momentum, and as it it the ground her pet detonated in a rippling electric explosion that caught Monsoon halfway through. “Gragh!” He stumbled away from the blast, electrocuted, smoking, and ripe for Geralt to make a real effort.
Having gotten a better idea of Monsoon’s fighting style, Geralt was more ready to take advantage of Tora and Mayer’s intervention. Quen had taken a good few hits before breaking, though the speedy fighter had managed to break through the magical shield in the end. The giant Witcher charged in, his hand making the Sign of Yrden as he placed an area trap around himself and Monsoon, which slowed the Wind of Destruction down enough for Geralt to savage him with a flurry of claw strikes that came faster than he would have been able to swing his sword.
His efforts dealt good damage, but the fight was just getting started. "Savor it while you can!" Monsoon spat, dashing away. He reached down to his belt and removed a pair of smoke grenades, which he hurled right at Geralt and Tora. They went off noisily and turned the whole area into a gray haze in a matter of seconds. "I could be anywhere!" He cackled, out of sight and about to spring.
"Group up, quick!" Mayer called, moving with her pack to join the others. Behind her, the silhouette of Monsoon appeared for a split second before he leaped in, his sais extended. On hit or block, he'd jump away into the haze again, then strike from another direction until the smoke diffused away.
Geralt sighed as Monsoon threw the smoke grenades their way, shaking his head as he waited about five seconds before drawing the Sign of Aard and slamming his hand into the ground, hoping to use the blast of force to both knock the grenades away and dissipate what smoke they’d spewed out. Regardless of whether his plan was effective, he drew his steel sword and took a defensive stance, ready to lash out and use the weapon’s superior reach against his admittedly more agile opponent.
The Witcher’s sudden expulsion of force didn’t work as well as a blast of air would to clear the area, but it at least removed the sources, scattering the smoke-spewing grenades to the corners of the giant room. As the smokescreen began to clear, the trio spotted Monsoon the moment before he hurled something else at them. Two handfuls of energy kunai zipped through the air, buzzing like angry wasps. Tora raised his shield and Mayer’s Robotters joined her mechanical arms to help create a robotic shield for her to hide behind. That left just Geralt, and Monsoon ran straight for him, picking up speed. The Witcher got only a moment to see that his foe’s hands lay not on the sais now in his belt, but the handles of the katanas on his back. Then Monsoon drew them and shot forward through the group in a blur of orange flame and purple lightning. Strangely the Seekers felt nothing–only when he replaced the swords in their scabbards did a delayed double-elemental hit strike them all. That strike both broke Tora’s poise and knocked down Mayer’s Robotters, and when Monsoon whirled around two more handfuls of kunais whizzed toward his foes.
Geralt was caught off guard by the elemental-dash attack, grunting as the delayed strike landed on him, but when Monsoon hurled another barrage of kunai, he was ready. The Judicator appeared to tank them, reducing the damage to little more than pinpricks to Geralt between the Striker’s bulk and his own tankiness. The team hadn’t taken much damage so far, the last blow notwithstanding, so Geralt directed it to launch its own barrages of energy at Monsoon, in the form of spectral flames as he ran in with his steel to match the nihilistic swordsman’s own, relying on both his enhanced strength and decades of combat experience to overwhelm Monsoon with a flurry of slashes.
More than happy to step up to the challenge, Monsoon met him in kind. He might not have lived as long as Witcher, but his cybernetic body also outstripped the limits of mortal man. Quickly switching from the flashy elemental extravagance of the katanas Onimaru and Jyuzumaru to his sais, Dystopia, he fought with weapons designed specifically to capture and entrap enemy blades, his two against Geralt’s one. They traded blows in a flurry of sparks and steel, landing as many hits on one another as they deflected. Dystopia danced in Monsoon’s hands as he changed his grip style as necessary, almost as happy to pummel with their blunt ends as impale with their points. Though he managed to snare Geralt’s steel sword multiple times with the prongs, the strength of the Witcher made him difficult to contain, and both added kicks to the mix.
While Geralt kept him busy, Mayer circled around with her Robotters, zapping him with her Short Circuit as she looked for an opening, while Tora kept his shield up, not daring to interfere with the melee. Now that he’d seen those Robotters explode, Geralt knew who could put out the highest burst damage in the group. If he could give her a chance, Mayer would make it count.
As Geralt and Monsoon traded blows, with Geralt taking at least twice as many smaller hits but hitting significantly harder, the Witcher took a kick to the side of the knee that let him fake a stumble, goading Monsoon into an attack that he let through his defenses while his free hand made the Sign of Axii. Even if the magic only stunned him for a few seconds, it would be enough for Mayer to send in the Robotters. “Now, I can take the hit!” Geralt urged, even as he raised his arms in front of him and leapt backwards.
Faced with a perceived opening, Monsoon span Dystopia in his hands and brought both down for plunging stab, aimed for the base of Geralt’s neck inside the collarbone. Before he could sink them too deep, axii took effect, and he locked up the moment the insidious magic touched his mind. Tora, already spurred forward by what looked like a vital wound, heard Geralt’s signal loud and clear, charged in and bashed Monsoon with the Sabo Shield. The Cambodian staggered backward drunkenly, his mind still under assault, and Tora bathed him in a torrent of flame. As his flamethrower blazed, Mayer commanded her Robotters forward, and three of them jumped on Monsoon in quick succession. The second took him to the ground, and as the third joined the dogpile, Mayer hit her switch. They detonated in a blast of flame and lightning that the nearby Seekers could feel in their bones, and the pieces of Monsoon scattered across the ground like the parts of a broken action figure.
With Monsoon apparently defeated, Geralt pushed himself to his knees, one hand holding his neck to try and stop some of the blood flow, the other fishing around in his pack and grabbing a potion to try and manage his wound. “Damn…went right for the throat.”
“...A commendable, if futile, effort.”
Tora’s expression turned to horror as his eyes settled on Monsoon’s severed head, still speaking. “You may take pride in your size and strength, but in the end, you’re just a relic of the long-forgotten past. Slow, old. An ape striking rocks together to make fire. Strong, weak. Everyone dies.” Suddenly, a protrusion extended from his circular visor, the cell in its interior crackling with purple electricity. The same charge began to flow through his pieces, causing them to clatter against the floor as they slid toward him. “Phnom Penh and the Khmer Rouge taught me that. I was raised on the Killing Fields, where the instruments of war genocided a third of Cambodia’s population.” His pieces rose and magnetized together, starting with the quarters of his torso. Then his arms and legs socketed together on the green seams, before the limbs themselves reattached. Only his scabbards continued to float, and as he spoke his katanas drew themselves from their sheaths.
“Writhe all you like. Life has no meaning. It is but a flickering flame.” With a wave of his hand, his magnetic power yanked Mayer’s remaining six Robotters from their wires to fly towards him and float in a ring behind them, struggling as he pulled their limbs off. Clenching her teeth in rage, Mayer detonated them in the hopes of hurting Monsoon, but as the blasts went off and the smoke cleared the Cambodian stood there still, wreathed in purple lightning. He raised Dystopia. “And the rains have come.”
“It is so easy to throw away the value of life, pretend that it means nothing, but all you are is a scared child who never learned to make his own life, find his own meaning.” Geralt spoke, the last drops of a dose of Swallow dripping down his lips. “I may be a relic of the past, but you ought to beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young.” Raising to his full height, Geralt summoned Fizz and Panther as his hand plunged into his gut, ripping out the Hateful Flesh in a spray of gore and viscera, and he leapt at Monsoon with a roar, slamming the weapon over his head to crush the nihilist while his Strikers shot and charged at Monsoon as well.
When Geralt swung at him, Monsoon did not flinch, his smirk hidden by the visor that now shone with magnetic power. As the giant blade drew near, his body cleanly split apart at the lines on his body in a way that the Witcher might’ve found oddly familiar, were he in his right mind. This separation allowed him to almost effortlessly dodge the attack by letting it harmlessly pass between his pieces. More than ready for Geralt’s arrival, he brought his floating katanas down in a splendid orange-and-purple flare of fire and lightning, then jumped backward to put some distance between himself and his melee attackers. Panther landed a handful of blaster shots, and though Monsoon felt them, he focused more on what came next. He lifted his arms and shot his forearms toward Geralt, his sais’ points outward to create flying blades.
Geralt ignored the flying Sais as they grazed past him, spinning the Orphan’s viscera weapon once in a wide sweep before launching it at Monsoon, running towards him and grabbing a handful of flesh grenades when the weapon returned to him via the umbilical cord-like lead it was on. He threw the grenades as he made the Sign of Quen to protect himself, launching into a frenetic frenzy of blows against the DesporHado lieutenant, planning to either get a good few hits in or at least get a better idea of the new trick this frustrating man had up his sleeves.
Monsoon leaped over the giant fleshy sickle as it scraped across the floor, magnetically holding himself in the air for a split second to make sure there was no room for error. He landed as Geralt wrenched out some explosive pustules, and when they flew toward him and brought the katanas around to form a protective X, blocking most of their power even if he took a bit of splash damage. The blades then parted, and he stood firm as the Witcher went wild, separating fast enough to avoid every slash and smash, all accentuated by Monsoon’s derisive laughter. After an especially big overswing from Geralt the Cambodian took his chance to launch upward with a backflip kick to the Quen shield. From midair he launched himself down in a dive kick, bouncing off and then magnetically hurling himself back down to divekick a total of three times. On the third kick he broke the shield and hit the ground, followed shortly by the katanas as they dropped down after him with a double overhead chop to almost -but not quite- cover the divekick’s recovery.
In that moment of tempting vulnerability, Mayer’s voice rang out from behind Geralt. “Look out!” she cried, a hair too late for her ally to avoid a nasty surprise. Twin lances of agonizing pain coursed through Geralt’s system as Dystopia sank into his back, driven by the detached arms of Monsoon as they floated behind him. He yanked them out, and as they flew back toward him as if tugged on threads of electricity, the Cambodian positioned his katanas to either side before closing them on Geralt like a giant pair of scissors.
Before the blades could meet, Tora got in the way. He ran in and jumped up to intercept both katanas with the sides of his Sabo Shield. Immediately the shield itself counterattacked, returning a portion of the swords’ would-be damage with a shotgun blast of cactus spikes. Almost all of them hit Monsoon, and with a frown he hopped backward. With Geralt injured, he produced two more smoke grenades and pulled their pins, but as they flew through the air Mayer slid to a stop next to the Witcher. Her Short Circuit sparked twice, deleting both grenades in rapid succession. She and Tora stood in front of him to give him a moment to recover, though Monsoon didn’t plan to give them that chance. He sent out his forearms to fight with his sais from a distance, wielding them with maximum lethality and minimum vulnerability. Tora clenched his teeth and blocked like his life depended on it.
“Are you okay?” Mayer ventured to ask. Her mechanical arms seemed to be hard at work, building a new Robotter on the fly.
“I’ll live,” Geralt grunted, calling on the Judicator once more to heal him with its self-flagellation, the damage he’d taken forcing him to reconsider his strategy once more. Monsoon had managed to dodge every blow of his, though ultimately it wasn’t terribly shocking that this was the case. The Orphan’s weapon could have managed this fight without Monsoon’s strange separation powers, which reminded him of Nadia now that he had a moment to think on it, but it was too unwieldy to be viable here. As the monstrous weapon dissipated and Geralt drew his steel sword, the Judicator’s flailing having closed some of the wounds the residual healing from Swallow couldn’t handle, he ran in to engage Monsoon. Hopefully he’d be able to get the maniac off of Tora before the Nopon was overwhelmed.
In fact Tora hadn’t been doing great. After a few frantic seconds of all-out defense against Monsoon’s remotely-controlled arms, the cyborg detached his lower half and sent it running at Tora too, his torso just hanging by itself in the air like the body of a puppet. His kicks targeted the sides of the shield to twist it out of alignment and negate the threat of reciprocal spikes, and after a moment he hooked his heel around the edge on Tora’s non-dominant side and wrenched it, opening his guard wide up. Tora took a side kick to the belly the next moment, but that wasn’t anything he couldn’t take, and he reached for his hammer. The blow turned out to be nothing more than a distraction, however as Monsoon’s weapons went for his unprotected face. As durable as Tora was, could the same be said for the Nopon’s eyes? Geralt’s steel sword swung in at just the right time to prevent Monsoon finding out, knocking Dystopia and the attached hands away with a direct hit. The Cambodian reeled in his detached parts, but rather than snap back together he separated everything and rocketed forward as a corkscrew of whirling blades and metal body parts. Rather than hide behind his shield, the startled Nopon steeled himself and swung his hammer, aiming for Monsoon’s head. He missed and smacked one of the cyborg’s shins instead, and though the strike sent the body part into a spin, it quickly magnetized back with the rest as Monsoon passed the two in a barrage of hits.
Geralt sidestepped the corkscrew of blades and body parts, drawing the Sign of Aard and launching a blast of force at Monsoon’s separated body parts to try and knock the attack out of focus. Even held together by blood, Nadia’s individual parts were much easier to manipulate when separated, so he figured the same principle might hold true here. Regardless of whether it worked out the way he hoped, Geralt went for Monsoon’s head, swinging and stabbing quickly while trying to dance around the disembodied limbs that swung for him.
The blast of force pushed the whole storm of parts away, like a school of fish shying away from a prowling shark. Monsoon’s head went with them, but a moment later the metal twister wound toward Geralt again. Even identifying the head among them was difficult, let alone hitting them, and the storm did not linger. After buffeting Geralt and ending up behind him Monsoon turned and came back for one more pass, then socketed back together a little ways off. He glanced down at the fresh dents and grooves left in his armor with veiled displeasure, then looked back at Geralt. “You really don’t know what you’re dealing with.” When he extended his hand, his magnetic power arced to the Witcher’s steel sword to pry it from his grasp.
Geralt smirked, letting go of the sword and drew silver, slashing with a grunt. “Two swords for a reason.” He simply stated, knowing that silver wouldn’t be nearly as easy to manipulate as steel would be, and resumed his attack with gusto and fury, Fizz appearing alongside the PT Imp Pack to swarm him with quicker attacks. Even Tora joined in. “Go for the head!” He commanded them all as his silver sword flashed and sliced through the air and, hopefully, flesh.
In reply, Monsoon shot his head backward, followed shortly by the rest of his segments almost like a giant slinky. Now that Geralt had a pretty good idea of what to target, there was no use trying to hide it. He sent out his arms with Dystopia, his lower half, and finally both katanas, whirling them through the air like elemental boomerangs. By doing that he could fight the whole group at once, but doing so clearly taxed him. His detached hands fought Geralt with far less dexterity than before, and though his katanas cleaved into his Strikers, his lower half found less success against Tora this time around. The little guy wasn’t stupid, after all. Rather than hide behind his shield he fought with his hammer, whacking Monsoon’s legs at least once for every kick he took.
Geralt grunted with each hit the Strikers took, but he pressed onward, doing his best to keep his head on a swivel and his sword in the way of each attack coming for him. It was easier now to do so, with Monsoon focusing on so many targets, and Geralt quickly found himself near Monsoon’s head, which tried to retreat once more, only for a quick pirouette and side-step to bring Geralt closer in a quick burst of speed so that his silver blade to cut across Monsoon’s visor. When he struck it, the magnetic node on the front gave out a burst of energy and retracted, disrupting the connection between all of his parts. They fell to the floor, limp as the limbs of a puppet with its strings cut. The witcher looked down at his seemingly-felled opponent and blinked once, before violently stabbing his sword down into Monsoon’s head, not taking victory for granted against such a…biologically unrestrained foe.
The stab sunk partway into the head, but the unfortunate reality that silver was half as tough as steel -especially against a target armored in even tougher metal- meant that the plunge wasn’t game over. Instead the magnetic node reactivated and Monsoon’s parts hurtled from where they’d fallen to reunite along with his head a couple dozen feet away. The Cambodian put a hand to the gash left in his head, the look of utter spite on his face hidden by his mask. “You’ll rot here!” Rising into the air, he unleashed his magnetic power. Spare parts, loose engineering projects, and even sections of the floor began to rise, lifting up and tearing away to slam together into a mass above Monsoon’s head. It span like a giant sawblade, its teeth the edges of the plates ripped from the floor now dotted with holes leading straight to the lava lake below. “...Left Hand Rule” With that, he hurled the immense projectile at Geralt and Tora.
Geralt’s eyes widened as he watched the giant mass of swirling death forming above them, drawing his crossbow and firing wildly at Monsoon with it. His body blurred and separated rapidly with each shot, and after a few, Geralt stowed his crossbow, realizing that it was useless. Finally, Monsoon launched the massive buzzsaw at them, and Geralt quickly cast Quen before running towards their incoming death, trying to slide under the incoming attack.
It was a tight fit. Maybe even the tightest. As the disc of metal debris advanced it struck and destroyed Geralt’s shield, but against all odds, the Witcher himself managed to slide beneath. He passed within just inches of the metal maelstrom, but after another moment he slid out from the other side, untouched by anything larger than loose wads of scrap metal.
Unfortunately, he then slid right off the edge of the floor and out over one of the pits Monsoon’s magnetic destruction opened up. Right away gravity began to take effect, and with Tora and Mayer both in the background thanks to their evasion attempts, he had only a moment to take action before he plummeted away from the grid of support struts and toward the lava below.
“FUCK!” Geralt shouted as he slid over the edge and into an open pit. He acted as soon as he could, hand forming the Sign of Aard, even if it would hurt to do so mere seconds after casting Quen, and his body was launched backwards by the blast of force and into a support beam, which he clung to desperately as he called on Panther to help pull him up. His body ached from overuse of Signs, the impact, and the fight, but he climbed onto the beam with his Striker’s help, looking to see if he could find a way to climb up. “Can’t believe that almost worked…”
As if he’d been waiting for Geralt to say that, Monsoon slammed an alloy floor panel into Panther’s back with spine-cracking force, which the Witcher felt one terrifying instant later. The power of the blow bowled him over the edge, but the price paid for safety was incredible pain. Monsoon landed on the other side of the lava pit as Geralt writhed, both Tora and Mayer -who’d finished her build and run over to assist- powerless to help him. “You can’t fight nature, old-timer. If you can’t adapt…” He raised his hand, gathering more scrap to form another giant mass of metal. “You will die.”
“You’d be surprised what a Witcher can adapt to.” Geralt gritted out through the pain, trying to call the Judicator forth, but too weak to do so. Even still, he put both hands underneath himself and pushed up, trying despite the agony in his back to get to his feet.
A blue flash went off behind the trio. Tora whipped around to find himself dwarfed by a seven-foot holy woman, clad in spotless white beneath the golden luster of a three-ringed halo. “Do not be afraid,” she proclaimed, her voice calm. It was Sandalphon, the mission’s operator, here in the flesh. In her arms she wielded a strange staff, not like a rod but like a rifle, and as its elaborate head spun up she let fly a blazing bolt of energy that struck Monsoon directly in the node on his head. He gasped in pain and stumbled back beneath a painful shower of debris, his magnetic power temporarily nullified. Then Sandalphon turned her gunstaff in her hands, surrounded by electronic blue light, and planted the shaft in the ground. A ripple of divine blessing rolled outward, instantly healing Geralt, Tora, and Mayer for just over half their maximum health and granting a small regen to boot. “Keep him busy long enough for Mayer to get her creation close, and victory will be yours.”
With the arrival of the team’s guardian angel, both Tora’s mind and body felt way better. When she offered a plan, he gave a determined nod. “Roger, meh!”
“Oh. Now that’s better.” Geralt breathed in a sigh of relief, climbing to his feet and drawing Odysseus’s Bow and wreathing it in Eldritch lightning even as more scrap was pulled toward Monsoon. He released a veritable fusillade of arrows, each imbued with lightning energy, and each fourth arrow imbued even further by the magic of the bow. His crossbow hadn’t managed last time, but this just might do it with the added electrical energy. And if it didn’t…he’d have to find a way to survive.
With no ranged weapons, Tora decided to be brave. He ran along one of the metal support beams over the pit of lava, the path made less perilous by his small stature. He held his shield up as he raced toward Monsoon. Though the assassin and his magnetic module were quickly recovering, Geralt’s voltaic barrage slowed him down long enough for Tora to get too close for comfort. “Gyah! Die already!” He took the fallen katanas in hand and wielded them against the Nopon, but between his spiky shield and natural bulk Tora managed to stay on him, even if Monsoon did maneuver himself to put Tora in Geralt’s line of fire. As Tora desperately bought the team time, Mayer finished her project. A brand-new Robotter was ready to roll, and after clipping one of her patented control wires to it the pair took off, sprinting around the holes in the floor like their lives depended on it.
Geralt watched as Tora ran in, a not insignificant part of him worried for the Nopon’s safety. But still he fired on as quickly as possible, each arrow potentially the one that distracted Monsoon long enough. Once Mayer’s final Robotter was ready and running, though, he changed strategy. Firing one last arrow, he pointed towards Monsoon and called all of his Strikers forth. Judicator roared, firing spectral flames. Panther growled and took shots with his blaster, while the PT Imps and Fizz charged in for a flurry of hit-and-run attacks. He’d had trouble before when overwhelmed by sheer numbers, so now it would hopefully do the trick one last time.
At that point, Monsoon had just gotten the better of Tora. He circled around with a quick roll faster than the Nopon could turn, then launched him with a double upward slash. Tora’s Sabo Shield fell from his grip, and Monsoon kicked it away before preparing to attack Tora as he fell. Instead the Cambodian took a barrage to the back and whirled around to see a whole crew bearing down on him. He leaped backward with a flip, hurling two handfuls of energy kunai at them, then landed a short way off. “Witless fools,” he snarled. As he crossed his katanas, his magnetic module blazed to life. “I won’t go quietly!”
Tora had landed too, and for a moment his eyes lay on his shield as he contemplated making a run for it. When he saw Monsoon, however, he took hold of his hammer with both hands and joined Geralt’s charge.
The assassin launched forward headfirst, piece by piece, and reformed to engage the mob in combat. His blades clashed against Tora, Fizz, and the imps, fighting all of them at once. He landed slash after elemental slash, a flurry of fire and lightning. First Fizz fell, then the imps, but as he raised his blades to cut Tora down a familiar shape sprang up behind him. He turned just in time to stare Mayer’s last Robotter in the face before it exploded. “No!” Monsoon snarled, his magnetism disabled as his body burst apart into pieces.
His head flew into the air, and when Mayer aimed a little pointer at it, the rivet gun on her top-right mechanical arm targeted it. “Comin’ atcha, Big G!” Expertly aimed by subsequent shots, the head bounced once, twice, then flew toward the Witcher, flipping end over end.
Geralt, having grown tired of the nonsense that the Cambodian ninja had been forcing them to deal with, in pain from the hits he and his Strikers had taken, grabbed the head out of the air. “You were tougher than I gave you credit for.” Geralt admitted, before drawing his hunting knife and stabbing the blade through the cracked visor and into Monsoon’s skull.
There was a brief discharge of sparks as the man died instantly. After another moment, the pieces of his body began to disintegrate. He left behind the katanas Onimaru and Jyuzumaru, the sais called Dystopia, and two spirits, both his own and that of the ninja Zero. And one more thing.
A disembodied groan, distorted by radio static, flared up over the sounds of Midna and her team fighting on the other side of the room. ”Kill…or be killed…”
Tora, who’d been just about to sag to the floor in relief, jumped up in sudden panic. “Meh-meh, a ghost!?”
”This…changes nothing. The traces…I will…return. The cycle…sure as the sun…will rise…the slaughter…will continue.”
”The rain falls…the wind blows…the strong…prey, upon the weak…all…is as it should…be-ee-e-e…”
Then the voice fell silent.
Geralt set about collecting the Spirits and weapons of the fallen warrior, looking over to Tora. “Any of this you think you can use? I’m used to carrying a few weapons with me, but there’s not much point in me keeping all of these. Probably hang on to the Spirits, though. Make them Strikers, I think, unless you had an idea for ‘em.” Whether he was perturbed by the staticky voice that had appeared after Monsoon’s death, he didn’t show it.
Tora’s face, meanwhile, showed just how much it perturbed him. It took a moment for Geralt’s question to register with him, and his worried look remained as he tried to distract himself with the spoils. Monsoon’s various blades all looked difficult to use and not at all a good fit for Tora’s fighting style. Not that he’d been fighting any more. “Friend Geralt should keep. Though after strange voice, thought of that man as Striker give Tora heebie-jeebies, meh.” He looked over to see that the other fight had already concluded, with Midna, Clara, and Macaron the victors. Then he glanced at Mayer. “Is Research and Development done for?”
“No way!” Mayer told him, smiling. “With Zanzo out of the way, we’ll be in better shape than ever. I wasn’t around when Macaron headed up R&D, but after working with him for a while I’m excited to see him in charge. Someone with a heart–not to mention some serious skills! I bet things’ll be pretty busy.” She crossed her arms. “If you’ve got a knack for tech, you’re welcome to join us. Fire-forged friends, as they say.”
Tora nodded. With the excitement of battle died down, thoughts of Poppi flooded his mind. “Tora would like that.” He gave Geralt an apologetic look. “Thanks for putting up with. Tell others Tora said ‘meh’, okay?”
Geralt frowned, not the contemplative frown Tora had seen him wear a hundred times before, but a more…real…frown. But after a moment it passed, and Geralt’s face was neutral once more. “Understood. Good luck, Tora. We’ll miss you.” He said simply, gathering the blades and heading over to Midna. “I think we’ve done what we came here to do.” Looking at the maimed Zanzo, Geralt hummed contemplatively. “I’d say I’m not sure which one got the worse fate, but given that most of him seemed to be metal anyway…well, he’s somebody else’s problem now.” After a moment’s pause, he gestured towards Tora. “Tora has chosen to stay here. I think it’s his best shot at fixing Poppi.”
Location: Midgar Sector 06, the City of Glass Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Geralt’s @Multi_Media_Man, Tora, Sandalphon Word Count: 8,226 (+9 XP)
When the monorail came to a stop and opened its doors, a heat wave rushed to greet the Seekers head-on. Though indoors, this station still felt noticeably hotter than its predecessor or even the train, and the poor AC units working overtime in every corner didn’t make up the difference. A handful of robots -mostly the PGR variant of the standard, all-purpose VA-SER- hung around the waiting area, either slouched in their benches or flat on the floor, and all looked pretty miserable, especially the ones who still seemed to be working, judging by their tap-tap-tapping at keyboards only visible in their virtual reality goggles. When the team advanced to the sliding doors at the other end of the station, flanked on all sides by fans, they opened to let in a wall of hot air that made the last heat wave feel like a stiff breeze. Like they’d stepped into hell itself. In front of them lay a huge cavern, full of dark brown spires and crags like so many bestial fangs, with a lake of boiling, bubbling magma beneath them.
They’d reached the interior of Vandelay’s volcano, and though this facility and the ones nearby comprised part of R&D, their destination still lay a fair ways off. Throughout the igneous cavern lay a network of big metal doors and hallways built into the rock, with walkways and circular platforms elevated between them, all of a bright silver futuristic alloy that seemed to resist the volcano’s ambient convection. A remarkable overabundance of arrows and signs all indicated the direction of the main R&D facility, evidently at the far end of this cave network. Unfortunately the doors -and just about everything else that could be- seemed to be on total lockdown, leaving plenty of the robot workers stranded in various areas. Still, DespoRHado had gotten through somehow, as evidenced by the SBR, GNR, ES, BES, and BA-B00 wrecks littered around, so it was up to the Seekers to do the same. Tora didn’t like the looks of this at all, but he could plot a rough way forward along the magma river, through the various construction sites with their chain-link fences and industrial equipment, and across the outcrops and ridges that connected them. Still, with geysers of lava, sharp-looking crystal clusters, and bombs in addition to Vandelay construction crews, this wouldn’t be easy.
”They really just have a whole mini death mountain in here?“ Midna commented, a little surprised despite the warning. She hadn't exactly expected the volcano to be literal, because who in their right minds would build a city on top of one? Except Gorons of course.
”Urgh, and it’s just as hot,“ she then complained, fanning herself with a hand and she took in the various things along the road. Or ‘road’ because calling it that was probably being generous.
”This is worse than the Goron mines, those were taken over and broken by monsters, whereas this is just in a bit of disarray. How do they even navigate it on their own?“ she asked, pretty interested in going on ahead to find out. Also pretty interested in seeing if any of the construction machinery was ‘borrowable’ as giving things away had created an itch to add more to her armory/junk collection.
She was 100% not developing a dragon-like hoarding problem, she told herself.
In light of Tora having teething issues in being a solo act however, she decided against it, instead asking ”So, do you think you can do all the jumping nonsense, or would you like a hand?“ before reaching out a shadow hand and placing it as a platform in the middle of the first fiery death defying jump.
“You think it’s hot? I’m wearing what has to be at least 50 pounds of steel. Haven’t actually checked how much this armor weighs between the size change and the transformation into plate, though.” Geralt complained, wiping some sweat from his brow. Pointing at a freight rail, he hummed thoughtfully. “Might be able to use that. I’ve still got my hook from Detroit. Won’t get us all the way there, but it’ll make the journey easier. They’re sturdy, managed to carry me without buckling before. And I can carry Tora, with you hiding in my shadow.” They’d still need to get around plenty of problematic obstacles, though.
”How does a beam-“ Midna began to ask, having not even considered the high up narrow bar as being in any way useful, before changing her mind and saying ”you know what, just show me“ before hopping into his shadow and declaring herself ”all strapped in and ready to ride“
Pulling out his sky-hook, Geralt offered Tora his hand, and once the Nopon was safely secured against his side, clipped it onto the freight rail and began their journey.
The trio immediately rocketed off at high speed, swinging perilously as the track twisted and turned above them. From the sizzling lava down below burst a gauntlet of Podoboos, their leaps timed to try and clip the rail-riders as they rattled along, though well-timed swings could evade them in turn. Geralt’s size and the prodigious grinding noise the sky-hook made as it scraped along the rail combined to attract some unwanted attention, and as the Seekers sped on their way a handful of the floating bomb-creatures arose to obstruct their path. Tora quickly realized that between him and the sky-hook, the witcher had no hands free to deal with the malevolent explosives. “Meh-meh-meh, this looking bad!” Never one to fall to pieces in the face of danger, however, the Nopon took action. He swung around Geralt to perch on the man’s back, his nub-hands holding onto his armor straps while one wing curled around Geralt’s neck like a scarf for extra support. With his other wing he raised the new Sabo Shield, ready to protect his carrier, and now Geralt had an extra hand free, too.
With a hand free, Geralt was now able to protect the group, though he had to decide whether to go for active or passive protection. A focused Quen could cover both him and Tora given the size of the bubble, but it would leave him less able to react to anything more substantial than a small fire. Aard, on the other hand, would only help against a single threat before he would need to catch his breath, and quick as that might be, those precious seconds might drag on.
In the end, he settled for Aard and timing some swings to avoid interlopers, while Tora protected their backs. The bombs were easily sent flying with a careful application of telekinetic force, and if Geralt was ever between casts, he would do his best to swing away and let Tora’s shield cover them from harm.
As they risked life and limb riding the rail, Midna chilled (literally) in the shadow and directed her Vibrava to run support for them rather than add more weight to the situation. The ironically rather fire-vulnerable dragon had to be careful in the toasty environment, but the abundant thermals made for effortless flight, letting the mon focus all its energy on blasting individual bombs with its dragon breath, or destabilizing whole groups with sonic waves of bug buzzing.
After the volatile, fiery gauntlet, the current rail came to an abrupt end over a construction framework, its long rows of bricks and donut blocks interspersed by totally needless fire bars swinging beadlike chains of fireballs around a central locus. Those same bars cast enough light sources from all directions to obscure Geralt’s shadow, kicking Midna out to deal with the blazing obstacle course as well. On the opposite side lay another rail ripe for the attaching, provided everyone could reach it.
“Really?” Geralt complained. “What purpose does that serve beyond being a pointless obstacle?” Lack of genre-savviness aside, Geralt was fairly certain he could deal with the obstacle course. The only question was whether his armor would have scorch marks by the end of it.
”Maybe someone’s onto us?“ Midna suggested, assuming it was some sort of deliberate trap instead of a hazardous work environment, as she squinted through the omnipresent light that had trapped her in the middle of this mess. Her eyes were not at all happy about all this close up fire, even as her heart seemed to race even faster than it should from the proximity.
Either way, she did not have the Witcher’s armor, so her bare skin was on the line, and she did not want any more burn scars than she already did. The little golden mask fragment on her rosary only did so much, and she was rather unaware that the sun on a stick she had in her inventory had a secondary power that would help her here.
Suffice to say, the half blind, slippery footed and and bogged down by the harbinger fusions’s slowing malus Princess was not going to have a good time.
Geralt, nonetheless, trudged forth, Tora still hanging onto his back, and began platforming. He leapt with ease from platform to platform, after nearly losing his cool when a donut block began to collapse from under him, only to remain in place after he jumped off of it. How odd. This took him back to the days of his training, as well as Ciri’s. The Witcher obstacle courses with swinging logs, rotating devices meant to catch you off guard and knock you down, as well as targets to hit. Compared to that, this was a relative piece of cake, though with the heat roiling around him and the sweat threatening to drip into his eyes and blind him, he nonetheless had to be careful and attentive. At least this slapdash, hazard-ridden framework lasted just a couple moments.
A few moments later, Minda descended from the sky, having realized after a singed hair or two that she still didn’t have to play the engineer's sick game and she could just leave by, well, ascending out of it.
Once hooked back on, the Seekers’ breakneck ride continued. Their rail curved upward, bringing them higher over the lava and nearer to one of the alloy bridges leading between two facilities built into the volcanic rock. As they approached Tora could see and hear a battle raging on that very span, fought between a squad of DespoRHado cyborgs with two armored axe-wielders and a Vandelay robot battalion backed by a ferocious-looking KEM-0N0 that wielded its huge claws and projectile spines to great effect. In fact, the rail passed so closely overhead the bridge that the rivals’ weapons, shots, and even bodies could hit Geralt’s large frame as he dangled overhead. Tora couldn’t help but think this would be a terrible hazard given the size of the fright containers he’d seen around the Vandelay Campus already. Right now though, the collision course offered a hazard as much for the team as the unwary fighters unless Geralt took action of some kind.
”Neat robot wolf. I want one“ Midna commented from the shadows, 100% falling for the cool aesthetic of Vandelay’s self advertising designs. Then she rapidly hashed out a plan ”Oh, I know, I could jump over behind them both, dump those smoke grenades, then go into the middle and yell about them being attacked from behind. That way they’d both start shooting behind themselves!“
Geralt, meanwhile, was hard at work…focusing on a Quen bubble shield, the protective force field expanding out from him and covering both him and Tora from any loose shots. As for his dangling legs, he had tucked himself up, knees resting against his chest, muscles strangely fine with the odd-looking position he had curled himself into. The Witcher kept his mind on maintaining the shield, though, and otherwise missed the details of Midna’s plan. Between his shield and compaction, neither he nor his rider ended up needing to worry about a thing.
”Guess that works too“ Midna sighed, her explaining of the plan having taken about as long as it would have to execute, and seeing as said explanation had been ongoing as they swung through the warzone, it wouldn’t have worked anyway.
Immediately after the battle-gripped bridge, the rail swooped downward, delivering a burst of speed and G-force to Tora that left him howling. The next moment the rail hooked left to disappear into a dark hole, turning so sharply that it dumped him and Geralt atop a large alloy tower rising from the lava, lit up by bright blue tech lines and the big glowing plus sign at its center. In front of them stood a strange bestial robot complete with snout and tail, decked out in bright red flame patterns and perforated metal, clutching his head and groaning. “Hrk…agh…agh, it…it hurts!”
Tora stood up carefully, not sure what to make of this but pretty sure it wasn’t anything good. “This guypon have stink of bothersome mid-boss all over him, meh.”
Flame Hyenard whipped around instantly, locking eyes with the Nopon. “OHH, it’s YOU that’s causing my suffering!” His voice sounded weirdly strained, and Tora disliked it instinctually. “Then if I tear you to pieces, the pain will stop!”
Without further ado he began jumping around and hurling explosive fireballs. “Hoo-hoo-hoo! BURN! BURN TO THE GROUND! BURN TO THE - BURN TO THE GROUND! Hoo-hoo-hoo! BURN TO THE GROUND!”
”No we aren't!“ Midna attempted to correct him, before remembering that it was rather pointless, given the machine was Galeeming, on top of almost certainly being insane.
”Alright, back into the box with you“ she told him as she popped out of the shadows, not quite getting how this black box thing that was stopping the robots from spiritifying worked, but rationalizing that it meant she could pound this random machine person without much worry about the ethics of the situation.
Summoning her wolfos as a steed and the sun on a stick from the twilight realm (she’d more or less wrecked the Interdimensional Axe she’d been using as her one handed weapon of choice the previous evening) she surged after the hopping fire lobber. She held the metal bat to her chest to charge it up as her wolfos dodged and weaved around the fireballs, before pulling up and smashing forwards with a mighty palm strike from her shadow hand.
“OOGH!” Hyenard howled, tumbling backward. As he slid close to the edge of the arena in a spray of sparks, he righted himself with a handspring and unleashed bursts of flame to launch himself into the air. Once airborne, he belted out a barrage of inaccurate fireballs down at his attackers. “BURN! BURN! BURN!” he shrieked, more manic than menacing. Then he turned his arms around and rocketed himself back down with more fireblasts, spinning wildly until he came down with a heavy slam. “BURN TO THE GROUND!”
”Get back here!“
A wave of roaring flame spread out around Hyenard, rolling over the whole platform, and Tora jumped over it. Despite all his new weapons, he doubted he’d be of any more use here, much to his chagrin. It was just common sense not to use a flamethrower on a fire-based enemy, after all. He could do little more than try to tank Hyenard’s fury to keep the others burn-free. “Fight me, nuttypon!” he yelled, running at the Reploid to spike him with the Sabo Shield, and Hyenard obliged.
Geralt, meanwhile, had taken a moment after dodging Hyenard’s opening flurry of attacks (though not flawlessly, as his slightly scorched armor would attest) to call upon the Orphan’s power, his steel sword now wreathed in eldritch lightning. When their mechanical foe turned to focus its attacks on Tora, Geralt pounced, almost literally, and brought his blade down on Hyenard’s back. He wasn’t sure how it would react to the lightning, but few things ever felt too fondly about it, so it was worth a shot.
Though Hyenard’s weakness didn’t happen to be electricity, lightning was lightning, especially backed by a heavy weapon propelled via superhuman might. “OOGH!” he cried again, stumbling forward to get away from the fresh source of pain. In doing so he blindly ran straight into Tora and his Sabo Shield, and though the Nopon only came up to the Reploid’s waist, that meant Hyenard’s shins took the full force of the shield’s spikes as he tripped right over Tora and fell flat on his back. Heart reacing with excitement, Tora brought his hammer down right on top of the Reploid’s metal noggin.
“OOGH-OOGH-OOGH!” Hyenard flailed on the ground, thrashing like a fish out of water as he shot off indiscriminate fireballs. He rolled onto all fours and attempted to rise, smoldering with flame. “BURN TO THE-”
”Shut up!“ Midna demanded as she descended from the sky (having launched herself via reverse shadowhand toss) and smashed her sun on a stick onto the robo hyena’s noggin.
It did bugger all.
Then thunder roared as lighting followed up the strike, blasting down onto the machine. Then as soon as it fell Midna started straight up wailing on the machine, her bat ineffectually going bonk bonk bonk while the follow up thunder strikes did all the work. Meanwhile, Tora ran around in circles, leaving a trail of smoke behind him as he patted down his burning fur in a panic. “Meh-meh-meeeeh!”
Of course, in terms of volume he had nothing on Hyenard. “AAAAAAAA” ”Just!“ ”UUUUUUUUUUUU” ”Die!“ “GGGGHH!!!” ”Already!“
Geralt assisted in the lightning-infused beatdown of Hyenard, quite unappreciative of the flames the robot was spewing all about the place as his sword came down over and over again.
Finally, the firefight was over. With his fur extinguished Tora let out a sigh of relief, though nobody got a chance to rest for long before Sandalphon called in. “Phalanx, come in.”
”Pha-“ a rather short breathed Midna began to say in a confused tone before remembering that was their ‘call sign’ (whatever that was), and replying ”Right that’s us. What’s the situation?“
“My apologies for the radio silence. I’m handling quite a with a few people,” the archangel explained. “That happens to include Monsoon. I’ll fill you in as you get moving.” There didn’t seem to be another rail leading out from Hyenard’s territory, but there was a large strip of crag not too far away that ran along the side of the cavern, littered with chain-link fences, construction materials, and helpful signage. Once there the Seekers only needed to worry about one thing: the fireballs spat out in bursts by a magma spout, which rained down upon the area. “Monsoon called in when he started carving through the testing labs, at which point Zanzo began to pay him his undivided attention. Using intercom chatter I picked up on earlier, I pitched the idea of goading Zanzo into throwing lavish encounters and setpieces at Monsoon to exhaust his limited budget, and I’ve been keeping track of it for him in addition to coordinating all the Seekers. He’s currently bogged down in the AR labs. You should be able to catch up via an alternate route by ascending the excavator up ahead.” And after another few moments spent vaulting over rocks and dodging fireballs, the team saw -and heard- exactly what she meant.
The giant drill created a tremendous racket as it span, its massive tip dredging up fresh lava from the earth. Or, in this case, Deep-Paris, probably hundred and hundreds of feet above ground level. It didn’t really make sense, but Tora was beyond questioning things at this point. He’d already seen stranger things than an active volcano inside the city limits of Midgar. Moreover, he and the others could use the drill’s housing -and the scaffolding higher up- to climb up and reach the R&D facility at last via Lab 44. Between them and the lab’s wonderfully air-conditioned interior, however, lay a big, locked door. “Mehhhh…” Tora groaned, tired and sweaty. “Door not budge inch! Not even Tora squeeze through!” He plopped down next to a ventilation duct by the door, desperate for the faintest trace of cool air.
Beside him there came the sound of banging as Midna gave the door a few shadow fist blows. After a few moments of that, she gave up and floated over to see what the bit of metal Tora was sitting by’s deal was.
After a few moments she requested that he ”Budge over for a moment?“ before crouching down and having a look at the duct entrance. She had never seen one before, but even to her uneducated mind it seemed like ”this might be a way in? For me anyway.“
“Could work. Certainly worth a shot.” Geralt added with a shrug.
Together the three pried open the duct. Midna could fit inside easily, and Tora with a slight squeeze, but no way Geralt could get through. The duct also turned to go straight up, meaning that if Tora meant to reach the other end Midna would need to push him up. As much as he wanted to be useful, the Nopon decided against it. “You go ahead, meh,” he told Midna. Should be controls of some kind in there to unlock door for rest of us.”
The duct happened to lead straight to the control room for the testing lab, which made sense since anyone in charge of administering tests would want a climate-controlled environment. However, the control room lay dormant for the time being, its windows shuttered. After a little searching Midna could find an array of clearly-labeled switches, one of which unlocked the chamber doors with a magnetic clack.
Finally the door slid open, and everyone could enjoy the coolness of the multi-tiered Lab 44. Or at least, they would be able to if not for the big green robot sitting in the middle of the testing area. “Hrrm?” He quickly rose from where he’d been playing tic-tac-toe with himself atop four crablike legs. Without delay the HG-0G began firing its shoulder and arm cannons, filling the room with bouncing grenades.
”Nope, no, stop that right now“ Midna demanded as she spurred her wolfos forwards in another dodging and weaving filled charge, thinking that against this bot, surely it would work.
She thought so right up until the point where she raised up a shadow fist and drove it forwards, only for the shield bubble around the machine to not only block the hit, but send a recoil lancing up the orange glowing arm. The princess was promptly knocked off of her steed's back, and the confused wolfos had to do a quick turn and grab and move her by the scruff of the neck to prevent her from being exploded.
Geralt quickly made the Sign of Quen, the protective shield forming around him as he ran in and attempted a thrust with his steel sword, only to be auto-parried as well, stumbling back in confusion before narrowing his eyes. “Well that’s not good…” He mumbled, circling around the machine to try and find a vulnerable area.
Tora blocked a grenade with the Sabo Shield, and out of the ensuing explosion flew a burst of oversized cactus spines. They met with nothing more than a dull clonk on impact, however, their force dispersed by the armor in a purple wave. When Tora moved in and let loose his new flamethrower, the results weren’t any better. Clo-clo-clo-clo-clo-clonk. A moment later Geralt struck at what looked like an unarmored leg, but appearances could be deceiving. He bounced off just the same.
“What this thing made of?” Tora gasped, his face a mixture of frustration and admiration. The HG-0G just gave a goonish laugh, bonking its armored head with its arm cannon in a show of durability. Keeping his guard up, Tora looked around in an attempt to see if there was anything he was missing. To his surprise, he did notice something. Another one of the testing chamber doors had opened partially, maybe during Midna’s fiddling around earlier, and another robot had slipped through the gap.
This one seemed to be different, though. Small and quadrupedal, with more exposed tech and less consumer-friendly plating than Vandelay’s products, it just stood there to observe rather than attack. When it became clear the Seekers were getting nowhere against the HG-0G, however, the critter started to get excited. It jumped around, swinging its thick tail, and squealing as if trying to get the Seekers’ attention. “Meeeee, meeeee, meeee!” It slid back under the door and ran a few steps, then turned and tried to get the others to follow. Or play with it maybe, its signals weren’t crystal-clear.
Still, better than struggling against this thing until somebody blew up. “Friends, look!” Tora pointed to the four-legged automaton with his hammer. “Little mechanical ottil show escape route!” As grenades rained down around him he took off running, skirting around the pit with the central testing platform in the middle. He ducked under the door without much issue, where he found himself in a hall with glass sides shielding server rooms, and without delay the Robotter skedaddled down the hall. Tora squinted, trying to see where it was headed, but found no obvious doorways at the corridor’s far end.
”Fine, you get to live. So you better not try and follow us“ Midna shouted at the seemingly invincible machine, before having her wolfos about turn and scamper after the nopon, the princess using her shadow hand to sweep grenades out of their path as it did so.
Geralt looked between the machine they were trying to fight, and the small one that seemed to be guiding them further inside the building and, with a sigh, chased after Tora, Midna, and the Robotter, a grenade narrowly being swatted aside by Midna’s shadow hand as he awkwardly rolled under the partially-open door.
Barely had everyone gotten under the door than a mighty wallop from the HG-0G’s mechanical arm sent a tremendous noise resounding down the hallway. It just about sent Tora into a panic, but the door seemed to hold, so he let out a sigh of relief. That sigh died on his lips when the HG-0G inserted its arm under the door and began to lift. “Oh no.” Tora turned tail and barreled after the Robotter. Just a scant couple seconds later, the robot slammed the door open and crammed into the hall. Grenades began to roll as the Seekers reached the other end of the hall, finding a reinforced trapdoor in the floor. It slid open at their approach and the Robotter dove straight down into the darkness. “Mehhhhh…” Tora glanced back at the HG-0G to see it barging down the corridor, scraping the sides as it fired off grenades. They had no choice. Breathing in deep, Tora leaped into the hole. “Nice knowing youuuuuuu!”
”I told you not to follow, you oversized scrap metal Tektite! This is your last warning!“ Midna shouted behind them, before unsummoning her steed and dropping down into the hole. She tried to use her levitation to slow/control her own descent, but given that Geralt was going to have to come in behind her, that had a predictable result.
Shaking his head, the Witcher just sighed and leapt into the trapdoor, once more barely avoiding grenades going off right next to him, the sounds of explosions quickly receding as he fell down the chute and it slammed shut above him.
The gang slid and bounced along the chute for a solid five seconds before they spilled out of a hole into a dark room to land on a heap on an old green sofa. Tora landed upside-down, but none the worse for wear, and he righted himself cautiously. “What is this place?”
In reply, two red eyes blinked on in the darkness. Loud footfalls echoed through the darkness as the lights grew closer. A deep voice resounded from an unknown source. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“MEEEH!” Tora yelped.
“Oh, sorry little guy!” The lights blinked on, revealing a sprawling, messy workshop, as well as a huge cyborg man smiling sheepishly, adjusting his glasses. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“The night vision makes you come on a little strong, sir.” Next to a desk with an obscene amount of monitors, a tall white robot had just finished drawing a friendly happy face on its head with a black dry-erase marker.
Peals of bright laughter rang out from the engineering zone. “Bahahaha! I KNEW that would happen!” A young woman with light brown hair, an orange coat over her black turtleneck, and a thick tail smiled as the Robotter jumped into her lap to be pet. “Welcome to our workshop, you guys! I’m so glad you followed my Mee-boo! Sorry about the fall, I’ve been meaning to get more cushions for the couch there, heheh…”
Another door suddenly slid open, and into the workshop ran a little girl with white hair and a red coat. “Omigosh, what happened?” She slid to a stop near the others, her face worried. “I heard so much noise…”
“Just got these guys outta a spot of trouble, Clara, that’s all,” the big guy said before turning to the newcomers. “I’m Macaron. These are my buddies CNMN, Mayer, and Clara. We work here.”
”I mean, those two statements don’t really go together, seeing as so did the robot you let us retreat from“ Midna pointed out as she floated up and dusted herself down. She paused a moment to stretch her arms behind her head and cracking her knuckles along with a satisfied sigh, before completing the thought by requesting ”so please, explain your whole deal“
Geralt rolled his head in a circle, neck cracking a few times, as he looked over their so-called rescuers inquisitively. Vandelay Technologies hadn’t given them any reason to trust them so far, even before tonight, and their association with Zenkichi’s enemy was rather suspect. Still, he merely raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for them to, as Midna had so eloquently put it, ‘explain their whole deal.’
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Macaron backed up a half-step, his eyebrows raised nervously. “Don’t you know…wait, you guys aren’t with Peppermint, are you? Er…that makes things awkward.” He rubbed the back of his head.
CNMN scrubbed off his face, then speedily drew a more serious one on. “Quite…”
Clara looked around anxiously. “Mr. Macaron…is everything okay?”
He nodded, holding out a placating hand. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, Clara. Just gotta talk things over a little.” Unfortunately, he didn’t know offhand the best way to go about doing that.
“Well for starters, that HG-0G doesn’t ‘work’ for Vandelay and more than a fishing pole ‘works’ for a fisherman,” Mayer pointed out cheerfully. “No robots do! That’s what you call ‘blind obedience’. Not us, though. We make our own choices.”
Macaron nodded vigorously. “That’s right! I used to be the head of R&D under Roxanne Vandelay. Then Kale showed up, and now this SPECTRA…I just couldn’t condone it any longer.” He tightened his fist sadly. “But this place is my whole life. I wanted to do something..and I realized I can. From the inside!”
Mayer nodded as CNMN changed his face to a determined one. “I guess you could call us disgruntled employees. And it takes a lot to get me down, I tell ya what!”
“Zanzo’s been doing a lot,” Macaron grumbled. “That’s part of why I got in touch with Peppermint to try and put a stop to it. Something big’s going down.”
“That’s why we’ve gotta be proactive!” Mayer told him.
“But fighting…just isn’t my style.” As Macaron hung his head, Mayer glanced over at the punching bag by one wall, decked out in heavy armor just like that of the HG-0G unit.
It was then that Sandalphon spoke up. “I’ve looked up his employee profile,” she remarked, displaying it for everyone to see. “Age, forty-seven. Head of Research and Development for years. Reviewed very highly by ex Vandelay employees–’considerate, reliable, honest to a fault’. Noted for long project times but high success rate, remarkable strength, and his advocacy for nonviolent solutions. Demoted and replaced by Zanzo once Kale took over the company. Everything checks out.”
Macaron blinked, surprised at the presence of an extra person but able to put two and two together. “Thanks, miss…whoever-you are.”
”You are just full of surprises aren't you“ Midna commented about Sandalphon as she looked it over, before turning her attention back to the group.
”Well looks like you're in luck, because fighting is very much our deal. So here’s the deal: you get us everything you can on what Vandelay knows about the machine’s virus, and how they were going to deal with it, and we’ll add whatever this ‘big’ that’s ‘going down’ to our list of messes we need to clean up in here“ she offered, before thinking for a moment and adding ”Also how to deal with that infuriating shield“ and then looking at the other two to see if they had anything else they wanted, or any objections.
Geralt, for his part, mostly just stood there, looking intimidating. It was working wonders on the ten-year-old in particular. However, he did add one thing: “Might as well explain exactly what it is Vandelay’s doing. Or, if I must be more specific, what Project HOLLOW is.” Bringing up what that Consul told the team that went into the theater might cut through the bullshit, or it might blow up in their faces, but they had a lead right in front of them, and he wasn’t going to ignore it.
“Hmm.” Macaron scrunched his brows together. That was a lot of questions to answer. “The Logic Virus. Zanzo figured that we could cut costs by just stealing DespoRHado’s antivirus software. Once he got his hands on a couple androids, he tossed them straight to me, telling me to have the software update ready by the time DespoRHado’s toast. Like it’s that simple! The Vandelay robots are a flippin’ mess of redundant spaghetti code, not unified in the slightest! And the architecture of the androids’ programming language is totally different! That man hasn’t the slightest grasp on the realities of software development!”
Letting go of her Robotter, Mayer couldn’t help but agree. “His demands are ridiculous. And the mandatory crunch time? Ohhh man, don’t get me started!” As she stood, a few mechanical arms attached to some kind of hub on her back folded out. “That big thing you mentioned? That’s SPECTRA. Top secret, but it’s got something to do with Project Armstrong and the new signal tower. You’d need to go straight to Zanzo’s PC for the details.”
“As for his new Z-shielding…” With a frustrated sigh, Macaron flicked the armor plating attached to his punching bag, sending the whole thing swinging. “I’m almost impressed. It’s just about impervious to anything but incredible brute force. No way it’s a Zanzo original…”
”I mean I gave it a pretty big smack, so that must be one boatload of force. Literally even“ Midna replied, now thinking about how she could apply even more power to the problem.
Macaron then glanced at Geralt. “Well, you know Vandelay’s trying to take DespoRHado out of the picture, right? As far as I know, Kale doesn’t have any goal beyond expansion, monopoly, and money, money, money. I’m afraid I don’t know what Project HOLLOW is, either. If it’s something else Vandelay’s up to, they’re pretty stingy with the details. Need-to-know basis and all that.”
“Hollow…” Clara narrowed her eyes, her brows curved upward. “As in Hollow Child?”
Macaron raised his eyebrows. “Do you know something, Clara?”
“Not really…but Mr. Svarog might,” the girl replied tentatively.. “Want me to ask him?”
“Yeah, uh, if neither of you mind!” Mayer told her, a little stiff despite her upbeat tone.
Another new voice reached the team, this time low, mechanical, and male, originating near Clara’s position. “Analyzing record…search term found. A Hollow Child is a robot designed to imitate and pass for a human, to the point where they believe they are human. A female Hollow Child, if fertilized by a human male, is capable of giving birth to a fully organic human being known as a Hybrid.
“Thank you, Mr. Svarog!” Clara said gratefully, looking upward.
Mayer blinked, taken aback. “Wow, really? If it wasn’t coming from Svarog, I wouldn’t believe it.”
“Crazy,” Macaron agreed. “We don’t make anything like that here, though. Sounds more like a CyberLife thing. Their androids are so realistic, you’d never know if not for their LEDs.”
”Why in the world would anyone want to make something like that anyway. Also why only that way around?“ Midna asked, but that was an entire can of worms that they didn;t have time to fish around in.
Sandalphon cut in. “Apologies for my rudeness, but we really cannot delay any longer. Any second now Monsoon could break out of the AR Labs and reach the Head of R&D. Zanzo’s budget is almost exhausted.”
Tora looked disappointed. “Mehh. Wanted to talk more with fellow techypons.” He’d been marveling over the engineers’ work since the moment the lights turned on. What Macaron said about working to counteract the Logic Virus, and this dev team’s skills in general, interested him deeply. “Friend seem strong. Strong enough to help with fight against Zanzo robots! Should come with!”
“I’d…really prefer a non-violent solution,” Macaron reminded him.
This puzzled the Nopon. “Then why friend have punchy bag?”
“Sometimes work gets a bit stressful,” the engineer admitted. “Knowing who took everything from me.”
Tora looked over at a poster stuck to the z-shielded wall, unsuccessfully peeled off and instead about a quarter scratched away. It depicted a crazed-looking man with his blue robotic limbs in a striking pose, his green mohawk and gold-trimmed white longcoat on display. “That him?”
Mayer stepped back as Macaron turned to look, and the instant he beheld the ostentatious inventor’s visage, he saw red. “Zanzo!” With a bellow he wound up and smashed the wall with the poster on it, obliterating it in one punch. Chest heaving, he came to his senses a moment later, and slowly lowered his hands.
“Meh-meh!?” Tora peered at the shattered remains of the wall. “That look like same stuff as green hardypon!” He then looked up. “Friend should definitely come with!”
“Oh, no. Does this mean I have to fight?” Macaron looked fearful.
“I believe it does, sir,” CNMN replied, a smile and a raised eyebrow scribbled on his face.
The big man grumbled, sliding off to the side, but Mayer shrugged. “Look at it this way, Mac. It’s our chance to finally stick it to the big boss!” She beckoned at Clara. “C’mon, Clara! Can’t leave you alone after all.” When the girl furrowed her brow, Mayer giggled. “Well, you know what I mean. I’ll let you play with the Meeboos~”
Everyone got ready to move, with both Macaron and Mayer packing up their things. The latter booted up every Robotter she had, each booting up with a meeeeeeeee-boo! to create a pack of twelve, all connected back to her on wires. “Good to go!”
“Tora want spend time with techypons after boss dealt with,” Tora announced. “This sort of people and place just what Tora need to get started on Poppi rescue mission for realy-reals, meh!”
Macaron smiled at him. “Well, if you’re sure, we’d be glad to have you, little guy. We’ll talk more when it’s over, but if you’re dealing with robots, we can probably help.” He then looked at Geralt and Midna. “You good to go? We should be able to reach the magma drilling cave through there.”
“I’m good.” Geralt replied. He wasn’t able to follow much of what they were talking about when it came to the technical details, but he got the feeling that ‘Project HOLLOW’ and ‘Hollow Children’ were connected. Vandelay was likely producing them. He vaguely recalled some mention of that when Zenkichi had been demoted by his boss, but the details eluded him, so he wasn’t able to offer any more information that could have been useful. Still, if they could convince these folks to join them and help the Seekers…they could prove incredibly useful in the fight against Midgar’s defenses.
”If Tora’s going to get what he needs, I’m good to go too“ Midna agreed, having not really understood a lot of what was said, but if the nopon was happy with it all, then she was too.
Now more than twice as large, the team got moving. Mayer and her pack of Robotters presented a natural hazard, but the high-spirited engineer hadn’t put so much time into her patented wire control system for nothing. The Robotters naturally moved to prevent tangles, and in the case that a wire happened to catch on something in the environment, it snapped back with a beep to indicate that it needed to be attached. Clara ran in the middle of the group alongside Tora, with Midna drifting above them and Geralt up front, while Macaron brought up the rear. Though the gentle giant seemed nervous to be out of his element, his determination to do something about Zanzo wouldn’t allow him to fall behind. In a few moments everyone reached a z-shielded door that lead back to the magma cavern, and Tora stood to the side. “Mac-Mac, you up!”
“Here goes.” After making his way to the front of the group, Macaron took a ready stance and began to flex his arm in time to the pulses of light on the doorway. Then he let loose a massive slug and smashed the door right off its hinges. “Oof…jeez.”
Tora bounced up and down, excited. “Wow-wow! With smack-pow like that, friend Mac-Mac take down crabbybot for sure!”
“Have to admit, that’s damn impressive.” Geralt complimented with a nod. “Useful.”
”Was there a timing thing in there, or was that all muscle?“ Midna asked, having noticed, and appreciated, the rhythmic flexing.
“It all helps,” he replied. “There’s a tune hidden in everything, I’ve realized. Once you find it, it can really get a feel for things.”
With that, the team moved in. They needed to get across a pretty big pool of lava to get back to the drill and climb up, but Mayer spotted a huge crag of rock hanging from the ceiling in between, already rigged up for demolition. “There!” She pointed it out, tapping Macaron on the arm. “Can you throw a Meeboo up there, big guy?”
“Coming right up!” With ease Macaron picked up a Robotter, tucked it into a ball, and hurled it like a baseball. As it flew its squeal got fainter and fainter until it made contact and exploded violently, blowing up the stalactite. The hunk of stone plummeted down into the lava, forming a solid surface well above the lava’s surface that the team could jump between. Macaron picked up Tora and Clara and showed off his leg strength with a long jump, while Mayer sent over her remaining Robotters so that they could work together and pull her across with a coordinated yank.
Midna just floated over. Geralt followed Macaron’s example and, with his newfound strength, cleared the gap with a single, mighty leap.
Everyone repeated their various stunts to reach the drill, then worked their way back up to the testing chamber from before. Inside, they found the HG-0G back where it started, playing tic-tac-toe with itself by scratching the metal floor. “Hm!?” it grunted in surprise as it noticed them, as if to say didn’t I already deal with you?
Macaron took a deep breath. “Any chance you might possibly let us through, mate? See, these guys-”
“Heya, Huggy!” Mayer called enthusiastically. “We’re gonna have to disassemble ya real fast. No hard feelings, ‘kay?” In reply, the HG-0G took aim with its grenades. Smiling, Mayer reconfigured her mechanical arms into a chair and sat down, her legs crossed, while taking out a two-pronged taser she fitted over her right hand. “C’mon, gang! Let’s make sure Mac’s runway is clear so he can strut his stuff!” As the grenades flew in, she shot them with her Short Circuit, frying them into duds with a single shot.
Midna meanwhile rode ahead and started reaching out with her shadow hand and tapping the grenades with a finger, pushing them through twilight portals and into a void somewhere in her home realm, where they could explode harmlessly.
Geralt placed an Yrden trap, the grenades detonating harmlessly when struck by the anti-projectile magical blasts the Sign shot out.
After picking up speed, Macaron leaped to the testing chamber’s central platform, descending with a gigantic overhead smash. The terrific, meaty impact actually staggered the HG-0G, cracking its armor, and when he followed up with two huge hooks he fragmented and they destroyed the pesky z-shielding. The HG-0G slumped down, momentarily stunned, and the Seekers could go to town.
The princess did so by leaping around Macaron and then delivering another shadow hand punch to the now barrier-less machine with a cry of ”See how you like it this time!“
Geralt followed moments after Macaron, circling a bit around to keep him and Midna out of the line of fire, and cast Igni, sending a continuous line of flame pouring onto the HG-0G, heating it right up, before drawing his sword, flipping it into a murder grip, and slamming the crossguard into the machine’s red-hot armor, like Tora had done earlier with his hammer to the Mastiff unit.
The heavy impact squashed a section of the HG-0G’s armor, but this robot had a lot more body to it than the Mastiff. Even after the powerful strikes from both Seekers, it was still operational, and it rose onto its legs to try and whack its foes with its arm cannons. Tora moved in to help keep the juggernaut heated up with his own flamethrower, however, and he kept its defenses softened up. When the robot tried defending itself with more grenades, Mayer cheekily deleted them too, giggling the whole time. Under this much pressure, even the formidable HG-0G was bound to buckle.
Midna, having backed off to give the others space and admire the fire they were creating rushed in next, raising up the sun on a stick which she was intending to just use as a lightning vessel again. However, as she swung it down, the orb on the top reflected the fire far stronger than it physically should, practically glowing with power till it struck down with a heavier force and made a very satisfying sound upon impact.
”What?“ Midna asked the world as thunder roared and lightning struck the bot, before asking the bat specifically ”Wait do you like fire? Me too!“ in a slightly deranged way. With that discovery made the princess proceed to going to town on the machine as much as she was able, wolfos darting to and fro to avoid swings and kicks from the bot while its rider smacked said machine over and over with the critical hitting bat-a-like.
Geralt gave Midna a wide berth as she maniacally smacked the HG-0G, instead taking swings with his sword, trying to target its grenade launcher, or more specifically, the arm keeping it attached to the machine’s body. He mostly tried to avoid being punched in the head by the robot, but was more focused on taking out its ranged attack option than he was on avoiding body blows.
Suddenly a lot more careful around one another than the floundering juggernaut, the Seekers quickly dismantled it. Scarcely had Tora put his flamethrower away than the others succeeded in their respective endeavors, Geralt with the separation of the HG-0G’s grenade-launching fixture and Midna with pounding it into scrap metal. Even though it had been trying to take out their team, both Macaron and Clara looked appalled by her treatment of the thing.
“Perhaps our new friend could use a Psych-AI as well,” CNMN tentatively remarked.
”Don’t worry, I have someone who’s going to poke around my mind later I’ll be fine!“ Midna called over, doing a terrible job of convincing them she was all there. The way she was trying to test swing two weapons at the air (the volcano fragment and sun on the stick) together now that she knew about their combo potential, and whiffing a lot due to the fire ax’s two handed nature, didn’t help either.
Clara sniffed. “It’s so sad. Why does Zanzo have to make them so mean? If they didn’t pick on everyone, they wouldn’t have to get hurt.”
“No idea. But I’m not about to get gutted to appeal to some naive sense of pacifism…” Geralt grumbled, frustrated by the mourning for a machine that had just tried to kill them all.
Macaron gently patted Clara's head. “There, there. We can try and fix it up later, make it a nice robot instead. For now though, we have to keep moving.”
“Indeed. The AR labs are just ahead, and Monsoon is nearly through,” Sandalphon informed everyone. “You must hurry if you’re to catch him and Zanzo before one kills the other.”
”Right. Then let’s move on then“ Midna agreed, before she tossed both weapons she had been practicing into twilight realm portals. Then she gripped her wolfos’ fur and spurred it to start racing towards the labs.
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