The Ashen Fortress III

[Kuzuru]

Resurrection was no stranger to Kuzuru. After all he had spent the majority of what one could call his “youth” throwing himself upon stranger’s swords. In the demon’s infancy he only had a rudimentary understanding of combat that extended no further than “hit guy really hard”, but each death brought a certain understanding with it. Where most babies learn to walk by falling the demon learned battle by dying. This immortality stemmed from the same cosmic powers that gave birth to him. So long as mankind cultivated strife and death he would continue to draw breath. However his resurrection in the Omniverse was the will of Omni and no other factor besides the deity's favor was involved. Regardless this rebirth, and its accompanied maladies, held a familiarity with Kuzuru.

As demon stepped through the Ashen gate his body took on a physical countenance. Hot air filled his lungs and the scent of char and smoke tickled his nostrils. A smile slipped across his lips as he surveyed his domain. The Steppes were an inhospitable wasteland that served to house the aggressive extremophiles of the Omniverse. While Kuzuru could give or take the unrelenting heat he relished the darwinistic nature of the verse. Those well adapted to the hellish landscape prospered while all others were burnt to a crisp. He reached down and scooped up a handful of the red earth, pulling it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. He was home.

Kuzuru held out his hand and closed his eyes, collecting his omnilium into an easily managed orb. He opened his eyes and frowned. The rainbow orb that floated above his palm was barely larger than a marble. He mouthed a curse word and tried to pour more of his energy into the disappointing sphere. It rippled and grew larger, but not by much. The demon’s body shuddered and he found himself winded. What had once been natural to him was now an exhausting a frustrating chore. Perhaps resurrection did have its unintended side effects. The demon spent about half an hour concentrating his omnilium into a usable chunk and by the end of it he was sweating profusely.

He pointed the orb outwards and it floated a few feet away. Mentally he pictured a custom-made offroad motorcycle and willed the miracle substance to fulfill his desire. Again the demon found himself pressed against an invisible wall. Where summoning had been akin to molding clay he now found himself shaping frozen taffy - technically malleable, but good luck. Were it not for the intense concentration required he would have been swearing up a tempest. Once it was all said and done the demon had spent the better part of an hour creating what amounted to a pile of metal shit with an engine and wheels strapped to it. With sour contempt he mounted the monstrosity and kick-started it. A plume of black soot sputtered out from the exhaust pipes as the engine chugged to life. Kicking up a tower of dirt the demon laid into the throttle and zipped  off towards the horizon.

His journey across the Steppes was one that was filled with close calls and mechanical failures. More than twice did he have to stop and perform a field repair on the unfortunate death machine. Upon reaching the entrance to his fortress he dismounted the bike and deconstructed it into its base omnilium. Destruction came much easier than creation, but the process still left him winded and weak. Kuzuru sighed and eyed the stairway that lead to the fortress’s entrance. He ascended the stairs and placed his hand on the stone slab that barred entrance to all except the Blades. Unseen mechanisms groaned and creaked as they shifted the slab aside and allowed him passage. He stepped inside and made his way to the heart of the Ashen Fortress.

As much as the demon hated to admit it battle was out of the question until he had fully recovered from his resurrection. So with that in mind he linked his dataverse device to the TV and opened up the Omnivere’s most recent competition, Dante’s Abyss. While watching others fight was akin to watching porn instead of actually having sex he did enjoy it nonetheless. There was certainly no dearth of content; Syntech had done a painstakingly thorough job of capturing every moment of the contest. He found himself following each fighter individually as they survived on the island, taking in every scrap of violence he could. However the most intriguing contestant was one of his own. Dawn had entered and proven herself to be a more than capable warrior, having acquired three kills before the entire thing was ended.

Kuzuru paused his binging and pulled up Dawn’s contact information. He tapped out a message and channelled a bit of omnilium into the device before hitting send. He’d be damned if his sycophants were not rewarded for shedding such exquisite blood.

[Claptrap]

Claptrap considered the question for a moment. How did Morene regenerate so quickly. "Weeeeell." Claptrap began. "I don't know anything for sure, but if I had to take a wild guess, I'd be willing to bet darkchips were involved." Miranda looked over her shoulder at the robot. "You don't think she'd do that, do you? We all saw what They can do." Claptrap did his best shrug. "I don't know. She was real desperate to get the girl out of there. Besides, even if she did it would only be one. What's the worst that can happen." Miranda nodded in acknowledgment, although she was obviously not reassured by the concept of 'the worst'.   

The pair continued home, and Miranda enjoyed a rare respite from Claptrap's constant rambling as Claptrap fiddled with a loose bolt on his arm. After a personal best of 35 seconds of silence, Claptrap spoke up again. "How do you think Kuzuru's doing? I hope his revival wasn't messy." Miranda shrugged. "He's probably at the fortress waiting for us, finding something to kill, or both." There was a brief pause. "What do you mean messy?" 

Claptrap chuckled. "Oh, you've never seen a New-U machine malfunction, have you? I remember I was just minding my own business once, and a disembodied arm just shot out of a nearby machine! No body, no other limbs, just an arm! It was horrifically traumatising." To emphasise his point, Claptrap waved his arm around like it was flying through the air. Miranda's eye widened in shock. "Uh, Claptrap, is your arm meant to come off like that?" 

Claptrap chuckled slightly. "Haha, no, no it's not. It just kinda came off." Miranda paused for a moment. "If you don't mind me asking, does it hurt?" "Oh, yes, it's excruciating. Say, will we be home soon?" Miranda turned to check how far they were from the fortress. They had crossed most of the distance between the garrison and their base, and only had a few hundred metres until they reached the stairs. "Yeah, we're almost there." "Nice, I won't have to pass out!"

Miranda scaled the stairs and gently placed Claptrap on the ground next to her. The robot slapped the door with his detached hand, and it slip open in response to his palm. "Boss, we'e hooooome." Claptrap called, hoping Kuzuru was there and not in several different pieces.

[Kuzuru]

The demon’s phone buzzed and played a simple chime. Kuzuru tapped the screen and unlocked the device. A tooth-filled grin found itself upon his face. His e-mail had not gone unanswered, Karl Jak himself had replied. It’d be disingenuous if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit giddy. As he read Karl’s reply he cheered with a fist pump and skipped across the room. One wall of the common area was essentially a giant touchscreen computer, through which the Blades could leave messages to each other and coordinate hunts. With a dramatic motion he swept away every open application. In big and bold letters he wrote OPERATION DEADLY ASCENT. Afterwards he set to work pulling up a series of maps and aerial pictures of Death Mountain itself. If he was going to host a tournament billed as atop the most dangerous place in the Omniverse he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it in any half measures.

As he worked his ears twitched as Claptrap’s voice echoed throughout the compound. The robot wheeled into the common room followed by Miranda. Kuzuru smiled and clapped his hands.

“Welcome back,” he exclaimed, “and I want to congratulate you two on your exceptional performance on our little excursion, you both did quite well.”

Claptrap responded in a voice that was one level above what could be considered an “inside voice”, “thanks Boss-man!”

“You seem to be in a good mood,” Miranda noted, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Kuzuru chuckled and said, “I’m always in a good mood Miranda, especially when great things loom on the horizon.”

Miranda raised and eyebrow and glanced at the screen behind him.

“Allow me to reveal our latest and greatest enterprise,” the demon stepped aside and fully revealed the screen behind him, “voilà!”

Claptrap cheered for a moment before deflating and asking, “what, uh, what is it?”

“Oh my sweet summer robot, this is our future,” Kuzuru said, “I’ve contacted Karl Jak and he’s agreed to co-host a tournament with me, not just any run-of-the-mill bloodsport, mind you, but a grand contest of champions atop a gotdamned volcano, not only will this let us give us a good chance to gather intel on some of the greatest warriors in the Omniverse, but it will also further our goals of becoming a major player in the Steppes.”

[Miranda Frost]

It was safe to say that Miranda knew this map well, or rather the mountain it depicted. It would seem no matter what she did, the past would always follow her. Her enemy here in the steppes have always been dragons and their kin. From the hordes of Volvagia's whelps to the armies of the Nebula enigma, her kill count of such creatures would raise the brow of any dragon slayer. The cloaked woman would step toward  the giant screen, her hand narrowing  the portion of the map to the side in which Nealaph and his three teams  of primes assaulted the mountain for what seemed an eternity ago. The woman frowned  a claw pointing the familiar face of the mountain before turning to the others.

 "As I've mentioned before, I took part of the assault on this mountain, the  lair of the late Volvagia. The mountain itself is likely unstable as the result of our infiltration team left its interior collapsed. Trying not to be killed by the crumbling mountain will be the first challenge, the second will be clearing of whatever remains of Volvagia's brood. My team was tasked in wiping out her hordes but its likely some escaped to lick their wounds and grow. Perhaps they have already created their own horde.", she'd  explain, stepping back from the screen. The idea of a tournament wasn't the greatest upon her mind. She was tired to her bones. She felt as if any moment her body would fall to pieces and this man wanted even more? Granted it wasn't a horrible enterprise. She had seen the games the famous Karl Jak had hosted. It could be something she could use to clear her mind.

 However there in lies the question about Nebula. Was it really wise to undertake such an endeavor while that villain was still out on the loose? It was clear he was still a major threat to everything here, not just the blades. "If I may divert from your plans a moment, Kuzu-boy, Wouldn't it be wise to crush Nebula before dealing with something with this magnitude?", she'd ask, her eye of crimson glowing down upon him. Fuck, she'd have half a mind to pound this man for his antics earlier. They had no doubt but the group in a great deal of pain.

 "Don't get me wrong, I somewhat like this idea of yours, but we arn't that big, nor are we all that powerful. It is not good to spread ourselves too thin here."

[Kuzuru]

Kuzuru grimaced and glanced back at the map he had constructed. As much as he hated it, Miranda had a point. Nebula was indeed a threat, albeit one that the demon had more or less dismissed. Kuzuru turned his gaze back towards his fellow Blades.

“Perhaps I am being a bit too hasty,” he said, “Nebula doesn’t worry me, I’m sure there are legions of ‘good guys’ out there trying to stomp them out as we speak, hell if half of them are as tough as that Morene girl or as destructive as lightning-boy I’d be surprised if Nebula lasts for more than a week.”

He paused to gather his thoughts. Kuzuru scanned Miranda’s face, trying to glean any information he could from her. She was a hard one to read, and he still wasn’t one-hundred percent confident that she wouldn’t try to knife him in his sleep if given the chance.

“What we need is an army,” Kuzuru said, breaking eye contact with Morene and turning back to his map, “if we had a sizeable force we could forge a path to the summit and secure an area for the event, but the question would be where would we recruit such a militia?”

“That is a good question,” Miranda noted.

Kuzuru sighed, “at any rate we need some R&R after our tumble with Nebby, by the way, how did that go? After I left, I mean.”

Claptrap piped up, “well after you blew up the Darkloid stood no chance against the rest of us, I’ve got it all on video if you want to watch!”

Kuzuru raised an eyebrow, “wait, you recorded it? How much did you get?”

“Everything, from start to finish,” he exclaimed, “well, sort-of, after we went through the portal the recording gets a bit glitchy and cuts out in some places, but most of it is there.”

The demon turned back to the screen. Along the outer edge of the screen was a small strip that held all manner of jacks and input devices. He pulled on one of the jacks and it unspooled to a length of several feet. The demon handed the cord to Claptrap.

“Upload it to our database, I want that footage,” Kuzuru said.

[Claptrap]

"You got it, boss!" Claptrap said cheerily as he took the cord. Plugging himself into the screen, the robot started to upload footage of the fight. After the footage was fully uploaded, Claptrap hit play. It started off with the assault of Wendy Fortress. Claptrap fumbled with his eye for a moment, before focusing it on Miranda and Kuzuru walking in front of him.

After the defeat of the Koopas, the footage cut off and restarted when Ebony, Morene and Summer were released from the cage. Claptrap had made sure to capture his allies heroically fighting off the hordes of darklings. After the group entered the portal, Claptrap fast forwarded through the footage of him and Morene walking through the tunnels.

 Claptrap looked to the side to see Kuzuru with a large grin on his face, which only grew as the fight came to the sorcerer. As the group defeated the clones, Claptrap fast forwarded again through his meeting with 'Handsome Jack'. Finally, the fight came the group versus the sorcerer and Kuzuru's Darkchip empowered form. Kuzuru's grin took up most of his face as he realised his favourite part was coming up. Claptrap made sure to focus mostly on fighting the darkloid, but also ensured that he caught Morene being impaled on the demon spears.

 Finally, Claptrap replayed Kuzuru's blaze of glory, followed by the defeat of the darkloid and the group's escape from the crumbling mountain. Claptrap turned to his boss, as he unplugged himself. "Will that do, boss?" Kuzuru grinned back at the little robot. "Yeah, that'll do nicely, Clappy."

[Kuzuru]

What great fortune! A veritable feast of violence was laid before the demon and he was starving. Kuzuru clapped his hands together and tried to contain his excitement. Pieces were falling into place for plans that the demon hadn’t even considered. He reached across the screen and saved the video, making sure to send a copy to his personal dataverse device. Kuzuru dismissed the video and pulled the map of Death Mountain back on screen. He turned on his heel and stepped past his comrades.

“Thanks for all the hard work you two,” he said, “I’m gonna go take a nap, you guys should get some rest as well, we can come back to this whole Death Mountain thing another day, we still have a lot of planning and preparation to do.”

Without waiting for a reply Kuzuru walked down the hallway and stepped into his room. He sat down at his computer and opened up the video file once again. He licked his lips and watched the thing in its entirety. As the film came to a close a sudden surge of inspiration overtook the demon. He turned to the center of his room and held out his palm. That familiar rainbow orb slipped through his skin and floated above his hand. He had toyed with the idea of summoning a living being, but had yet to find a need for it. This time, however, he had someone specific in mind, and a specific need for the being’s talents.

Omnilium twisted like clay to form a gaunt humanlike shape. Skin, the color of water-stained paper, stretched tight across an elongated skeleton. Thin needle-like fingers formed around the bony nodules it would call knuckles. Small chitinous horns lined his shoulders and joints. Runes tattooed in a violet so dark it seemed black lined its body, wrapping around its neck. The creature lacked any suggestion of genitals, and work not a stitch of cloth. Fangs lined its mouth and two beady yellow eyes were pressed into its skull. Instead of being covered in hair, the top of its head ended in a series of twisted and bony spires. After several minutes of creation the creature’s chest began to rise and fall while its piercing eyes locked onto Kuzuru.

“Kuzuru,” it spoke in a voice slick with oil, “where have you taken me?”

Kuzuru, pleased with his work, sat in his chair and reclined with a smile.

“Mathaziel, welcome to Casa del Diablo,” Kuzuru said with a sense of cheer.

The newly minted being growled and loomed over Kuzuru. Its crown of horns ignited and burned like a brazier. Smoldering coals danced between its needle fingers. All seven feet of its countenance became a frightful image of wrath, and yet Kuzuru’s smile did not fade.

“Have you forgotten your place child?” Mathaziel spoke, its voice still sour with venom, “mankind turned to me first and only after I filled them with desire did they seek your violence, I will not be made into a-”

“Sparkplug,” Kuzuru interrupted.

Mathaziel’s fire extinguished and he collapsed to floor. The elder demon gasped for air and writhed about in agony. Kuzuru stood and turned the creature onto its back with his foot. He allowed it to suffer for a while before opening his mouth.

“Makeup,” Kuzuru said plainly.

As if a switch was flipped Mathaziel’s suffering was ended.

“You may have been my progenitor in another world,” Kuzuru said, relishing every word, “but this is the Omniverse, baby, and in this world you are mine.”

Mathaziel growled and asked, “what do you mean?”

“Glad you asked,” Kuzuru said, relieving the pressure of his boot, “you have much to learn about this place, and don’t worry, I will tell you all in good time, but there are two things you must know.”

“Which would be?”

“One, your life is in my hands and I can end it any time I choose, as I’m sure you’ve realized by now,” Kuzuru’s shit-eating grin grew wider by the minute, “secondly, not only can I end your life with an utterance, but your life is also linked to mine, should I perish you will be right behind me.”

Mathaziel crawled to his feet, “so you’ve brought me here to enact your vengeance? I must say that my pride is outshone only by my disdain for you.”

Kuzuru chuckled, “awh shucks, thanks for the compliment, but, while it is true that the thought of finally subjugating you does send my heart a-fluttering, I am not interested in revenge, in fact I am more than willing to bury the proverbial hatchet.”

“By imposing a geas upon me?”

“Well, no, but you are much cleverer than I, and were these restriction not in place it would have been only a matter of time before you betrayed me,” Kuzuru said, “this way, my life is your responsibility and any act against me is an act against your very existence.”

Mathaziel scowled as much as its alien face would allow, “even if my flesh fails I will simply be reborn, have you forgotten that basic fact?”

Kuzuru held up a finger and said, “ah, yes, while that would normally be the case, my dear kin, here in this wonderful world your death is very much permanent, tell me can you feel the greed of man in this world? Are you intrinsically linked to their desires as you were before? Do you not feel weaker? You are intelligent beyond measure, so surely you know this place is not your home realm.”

Mathaziel said nothing for quite some time.

“So if you did not ensnare me for revenge,” Mathaziel finally spoke, “then why did you bring me to this realm?”

“Well, as I have said, you are smarter than me and possess talents that I do not,” Kuzuru said, “what I ask is your assistance, you will not be my servant, but rather my ally, as I prosper so shall you.”

The elder demon stayed silent for a while as he turned Kuzuru’s offer over in his head, “you know that I will betray you given the chance.”

“It is your nature, as I am compelled to draw blood, I would expect nothing less from you.”

“Very well,” Mathaziel said, offering his hand, “I will play along with your charade, we will see how long you can keep it from falling apart.”

Kuzuru smiled and responded, “it will be fun regardless of the outcome.”

[Claptrap]

"Night, boss!" Claptrap chirped as Kuzuru walked down the corridor to his room. He stood in awkward silence with Miranda for a moment, before turning to the woman. "So, uh, I'd better take care of this." Claptrap said, waving his amputated arm in the air with his functional one. Miranda wasn't sure whether she should chuckle or not. "That's probably a good idea." 

Claptrap hummed to himself as he trundled down the hall to his room. He pushed the door open and moved to the workbench tucked away in the corner of the room. He had no tools on it, but having Omnillium made that a non-issue. The robot dropped his rainbow orb onto the bench, along with his arm, and began inspecting the severed limb for what caused it to fall off. After running a scan on his arm, Claptrap found the source of the damage. The socket which held one of the bolts connecting his arm to his body had been damaged in his fall from the darkloid, and the bolt had come loose. "Thank god." Claptrap said semi-sarcastically. "Its only a semi-destroyed joint. I was worried it was something serious."

Claptrap picked up the orb of Omnillium and summoned a new socket for his arm. The shimmering substance stretched and morphed into the general shape of the socket, before taking on finer details such as teeth for the bolt to fit in. When it was finished, Claptrap picked it up and inspected it. It was just as he'd envisioned it, of course, as all Omnillium constructs were. Now came the tricky part. Claptrap picked up his arm and, without any hesitation, karate chopped the damaged socket off. Or at least, he tried to, and only ended up hurting his hand. "Skagsack." He said under his breath, before he produced his shotgun and 'carefully' removed the socket. Summoning a blowtorch, Claptrap got to work attaching the new socket to his arm.

"Ah! Safety first!" Claptrap cried, almost forgetting basic welding procedures. He summoned a welding mask, almost as big as he was, and slipped it over his body. It was awkward to try and extend his arm around the side of the mask, almost as awkward as using a blowtorch one handed, but he managed to attach the new socket to his arm. Satisfied with his work, Claptrap summoned a bolt and attached his arm to his body. "Owowow, hot hot hot!" Claptrap cried as the still heated metal touched his... metal.

After Claptrap had finished his surgery on himself, he went back out to the common room. "Look, guys! I'm a bona fide robo-surgeon!" Much to the amusement/annoyance of anyone in the room. "So." Claptrap said. "What's the next task the great Claptrap has on his list? Maybe take down Nebula singlehanded? Or something simpler, like soaking death mountain in the blood of my enemies?" There was a brief pause, before Claptrap began talking again in a less confident tone. "That's just a joke, by the way, please don't make me fight Nebula alone."

[Miranda Frost]

It wouldn't be long before Miranda was alone. She stood there, her crimson light shining upon the map of Death mountain. Kuzu and the adorable little robot had already left, leaving her in her lone gaze. Her time at that mountain was brief, yet she could still feel the blood of a thousand dragons seeping into her gears. Her claws twist and grinded against each other. 

 She could smell the burning sulfur, the jets of dragonfire raining down upon her. She'd look up into the blood red sky as the countless beasts swarmed down. The air boomed with the thunder of countless wings boomed over head, the torrent of blistering wind nearly taking her off her feet.  Her fists clenched, her chest swelling to release a blood curdling cry  in defiance against the firestorm ahead of her. With her fist tighten and her arm cocked back she'd throw her heavy fist into the charging horde, only for the sound of crumbling stone to break through the image Frost had painted for herself. She'd blink, her eye seeing the world truly again. The stone wall ahead of her cracked, the room still shaking from the impact. 

 Her hand slowly dropped to her side, her body recoiling back to crutch itself against the smooth stone wall behind her. Her body ached, her empty eye socket throbbing. She'd bite down hard into her lower lip, tasting that all too familiar metallic taste. Despite being pulled down from the heavens back to the ash covered earth, she could still feel the thunder wracking through her body.  The room shrank around her, trapping her. She needed out, she needed out of this place!

 The silver haired woman would jump to her feet and run towards the entrance to the common room just as Claptrap wheeled in, spouting his usual nonsense. Miranda couldn't hear him no matter how loud he spewed his thoughts to her or the world. The little bot would jump  in front of the woman, unfortunately for him. Miranda  barreled through the bot, the metal box of an artificial lifeform clamping  onto the tail of her coat, the heavy talkative machine squealing as Miranda skidded over into the  courtyard before turning to pry the bot from her cloak.

 " I cannot take this place any longer, Claptrap.... I've had my share of this place", She'd say with a sigh, her hand reaching down to pat at the little bot. This weight upon her shoulders was unbearable. Her memories of the past contradicted each other and thus her experiences did as well. The things she did here in this place of molten rock and sulfur left her dumbfounded. Physically she had endured quite well. She'd been impaled, her eye gouged out, and her body beaten to a bloody pulp but her body kept going. Her mind was a different story. 

"If you leave, minion, who will fight for me when I track down that dastardly Nebula?" 

 "Summer and that other brat are more than likely working on that front. You could go with them. As for me.... " , she'd say, turning her back on the bot and the rest of the blades. "I am not needed here."

 The cyborg would walk away, her arms crossed tightly into her chest. What a waste of time this had all been to her. The one who'd pointed her in this direction had better not show her face to Miranda. For a "Team" of primes, the little girl has been quite the help. God save her, Miranda will surely help her fist into that fledgling's face.

 Her eye flicked up to  the expansive set of crumbling stairs before her, the red filter over vision scrolling through the various frequencies she'd picked up over the past year.

 "Isolate unidentified frequencies... eliminate corrupted readings... ", she'd mutter, the list of frequecies before her shrinking to only a few. From her time here, Miranda had learned of the verses that bordered the Ashen plains. She could recall the time her group was ambushed by a group of so called bandits. BAH! Their goofy disposition didn't match their claims. However, the slaughter of North village was attributed to this wacky group. She'd met Orange and a couple of his goons. They seemed to have quite the heart. Whoever did this surely did not. An entire village wiped out in a blink of an eye.

 Narrowed down to three, she'd open a broadcast to them all. "Good evening, my name is Miranda Frost, and I require the proper paperwork to  enter Coruscant unabated. Meet me by the western face of Death Mountain and we can talk from there."

[Claptrap]

Claptrap dejectedly watched as Miranda walked away. The others that helped them to defeat the darkloid could never replace her. They were too flashy, they'd draw the spotlight off of him. With a dramatic sigh, Claptrap turned and walked inside, before flopping on the couch in the common room. While did his best to sit down, Claptrap’s thoughts wandered to how great it would be to go wherever he wanted in the Omniverse. “Oh, wait.” He said to himself. “I can just summon a fast travel station!” The robot lifted himself off the couch and trundled over to an empty corner of the room. He summoned his orb of omnillium and got to work creating the fast travel station. The rainbow substance stretched to the rough size and shape of the machine, and Claptrap wondered how much of the stuff this would take out of him. “If I don't have any of the OM left over, then how will I buy our twelve foot tall victory statue after we defeat Nebula?” He muttered to himself.

When the summoning was complete, Claptrap high fived himself. A brand new Hyperion fast travel station, that didn't require other stations to function, was sitting before him, almost ready to be used. “Now… How do I turn it on?” Claptrap poked and prodded all over the machine, before opening up its side panel and doing the same. Finally, he found the on button, narrowly before accidentally discovering the self destruct button, and the machine whirred to life. The ‘eye’ on the machine lit up, and turned to Claptrap. “Oh god, am I in hell?” It asked in the same female voice that yelled at Claptrap whenever he was about to do something dangerous and/or awesome. Claptrap didn't bother replying, fast travel stations never had anything positive to say anyways. “I'd better test it, just to make sure.” Claptrap ‘whispered’ to himself. “Ok, fast travel station, teleport me somewhere else in this ‘verse.” The machine processed the request for a moment. “Is that your designated teleportation region?” It asked. Claptrap scratched his head. “What do you mean?”

The robot could have sworn he saw the fast travel station roll it's eye. “You can choose a single verse for this fast travel station to transport you to. Additional teleportation locations can be purchased for a low, low price of 499.99 OM.”
Claptrap stared, dumbfounded, at the fast travel station for a moment. “But… But I MADE you… Surely I can get more locations for free?” The fast travel machine laughed heartily at his pleas. “Of course not, you cheap bastard.” With a grumble, Claptrap considered his options. Shadow had been hunting a lot of bounties in Coruscant, according to the board on the other side of the room which was displaying some pretty gruesome pictures of her victims, and she’d love a surprise visit from Ol’ Clappy every now and then. “Alright, my selected verse is Coruscant.” Claptrap said to the fast travel station. “Of course. Processing purchase… Do you mind if we give your personal information out to whoever asks?” Claptrap waved his arms wildly, panic setting in. “No no no no no, do NOT give out my personal information!” The fast travel station laughed again. “As if you have a choice, dumbass.”

Claptrap turned to the nearest wall and banged his head against it. He could almost feel the spam emails. “Processing complete,” the fast travel station chimed, “you may now teleport to Coruscant. Please set up teleporter permissions.” Claptrap wheeled over to the fast travel station and mentally went over anyone who he should give permission to. “The bo- I mean, Kuzuru, Shadow and, uh…” Claptrap’s thoughts went to Miranda. “Yeah, throw Miranda in there too. I'm sure she'll be back… I hope.” The fast travel station whirred before dinging. “Permissions set. Have a Hyperion day!” Claptrap would have smiled if he had a mouth. It was about time the fast travel station said something nice.

[Kuzuru]

As the recording device was switched off Kuzuru leaned back in his chair and clapped. The young reporter sitting across from him smiled and rested her cheek on her knuckles. As she watched Kuzuru celebrate her skin rippled much like the surface of an agitated lake. Color was drained from her skin and her entire body elongated, taking a more angular form. Her humanity was molded away as if an unseen sculptor sought to transform her into a monster. Bones cracked and popped as they shift into their new positions and her hair grew into a chitinous mess of spikes. After a few moments all that remained of Suzy Salazar was a smirking Mathaziel.

“I’m pleased you enjoyed the performance Kuzuru,” Mathaziel said.

Kuzuru stood and pointed at his kin, “now that is exactly why I brought you here.”

“It was child’s play,” Mathaziel said, waving away the compliment, “I hope that you don’t honestly believe the Omniverse at large is going to believe our shenanigans do you?”
The red demon shrugged, “no, I suppose not, but the more doubt and confusion we can spread, the better, I know how the hero types can be, the second you try to do anything remotely selfish they show up and beat your door down, if we can give them at least the slightest pause, well I’d call that a win.”

Mathazial grunted in surprise, “how very conservative of you Kuzuru, I would have expected you to welcome intruders with open arms.”

“Well, kindred, I know that there are beings here much stronger than I,” Kuzuru paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, “and while I’m not afraid of death or banishment, I’d rather face neither given the choice, besides I have a show to put on and it would be criminal if I was brought low before the climax.”

Mathaziel nodded in agreement.

For a long time the two demons spoke casually with one another the way you’d expect long-lost drinking buddies to do. They were both playing a game, a game that one of them was much more proficient at. The kind of game the ended in blood and tears. A game that they had played for eons. A game that Kuzuru had never won. And without the incredible advantage afforded to him by virtue of being a prime Kuzuru would have never challenged Mathaziel. For the first time, in a very long time, Kuzuru had the upperhand in their interactions. At least for the time being. As they spoke Kuzuru regaled Mathaziel with his adventures in the Omniverse and the elder demon sat and listened patiently. Hours passed and Kuzuru yawned.
“At any rate,” Kuzuru said, “I’ve given you life and brought you up to speed, I figure I’ve done enough for today, why don’t you go out and introduce yourself to the others, I need my beauty sleep.”

[Kuzuru]

As abruptly as it began so too did it end. The demon’s eyes shot open, his vision still blurred from Weiss’s haymaker. He tried to move, but the implacable grip of fatigue kept him pinned. Kuzuru groaned. Blood, slick and warm, soaked his sheets and filled the air with a rank scent. Wounds that were originally nothing more than the fabrications of a vivid dreamer were torn open across his body. Pain, searing agony, came in sobering waves. For a long while the demon did not move and instead languished. Despite this pain, despite this agony, despite all of this he still managed to smile. What a dream! What a God-damned dream!

Slowly the demon rolled over and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. The sudden exertion sent his world spinning. If he had to guess he had lost more blood than was left in his body. He chuckled and stood. His legs wobbled and gave out beneath him, sending him tumbling to the floor. Kuzuru tried to lift himself again, but couldn’t find the strength.

“Man,” he muttered, “what a lame way to die.”

As the demon’s eyes closed his door opened. Mathaziel stepped across the threshhold and frowned. While Kuzuru’s death would’ve normally been a jubilous occasion the elder demon did not cheer. Even now, as Kuzuru barely clung to life, Mathaziel could feel wires coiling around his heart. Their lives were linked and death for Kuzuru meany death for him, and he wasn’t guaranteed to come back. Mathaziel’s body shifted and transformed into that of a young bodybuilder. With his new form he scooped up Kuzuru’s limp body and went back through the door.

A grisly trail of blood followed the two demons as they made their way through the compound. At the center of their base was a fountain of blood. An entire room was dedicated to the macabre installation. Profane runes covered the walls and floors. in the center of this gently flowing pool of blood was a pedestal in the shape of a hand. This stone hand clutched a burgundy orb and pulsed with a tempo reminiscent of a lethargic heart. Mathaziel threw his kin into the pool of blood. For a while the younger demon stayed submerged in the viscera. The coils around Mathazirl’s heart slowly relinquished their grip. Eventually Kuzuru emerged, gasping of air and absolutely covered in blood. The two demons locked eyes and Kuzuru began to laugh.

“To think I’d be saved by you,” Kuzuru said, “that’s the best thing about this place Mathaziel, you can never predict what will happen next.”

“If my life wasn’t entwined with yours I would have delivered the coup de grace myself,” the elder demon answered.

“Awh, don’t be that way,” Kuzuru said, “I’m still in no shape to fight, go ahead and finish me off.”

Mathaziel said nothing.

“You’re no fun,” Kuzuru muttered and dunked himself again.

“What happened to you?” Mathaziel finally asked.

Kuzuru chuckled and sighed dreamily. He relayed his dream in excruciating detail. Every single scrap of minutia was retold with the fervor of a preacher. To his credit, Mathaziel did listen as best he could. After an hour or so had passed Kuzuru had finished his story.

“I think I still need a bit more time before I can get out without dying,” Kuzuru finally said, “can you go get my phone for me?”

[Kuzuru]

It was several hours until Kuzuru had finally stepped out of Death’s door. Were it not for his Prime physiology he would have never even woke up. As it stood, however, his wounds began to slowly seal themselves shut in a process that was not only tedious but also agonizing. Once he was confident in surviving outside of the blood pool he crawled out. Severed musculature in his shoulder turned this simple task into an ordeal. Mathaziel watched for a while as his kin struggled to breach land. While this entertained him for some time he finally took pity on Kuzuru and helped him out. Large gashes and lacerations still covered the younger demon’s body.

“You still won’t make it,” Mathaziel said.

Kuzuru pressed his hand against the bullet hole in his thigh. He growled in agony.

“Then stitch me up damnit,” Kuzuru answered.

“Stitch you up?”

“Yes, y’know seal the wounds? Stop the bleeding,” Kuzuru said, his voice becoming more fevered.

“With what?”

“Thread you jackoff,” Kuzuru said, “there’s a medical kit in the main room, grab it and stitch me up.”

Mathaziel smirked and left without another word. A few minutes late he returned with medical supplies. His body had shifted into that of a surgeon’s. The next hour or so was spent patching up Kuzuru.

“You’ll be interested in this,” Mathaziel said as he finished a stitch in Kuzuru’s back, “are you familiar with Sasuke Uchiha?”

Kuzuru answered plainly, “champion of the first Dante’s Abyss, beating out Doomguy, Strazio Rockwell, that weird mouse thing, Doomguy, Deadpool, Luffy, Retane, and Samus, not to mention the others that didn’t even make it to the finals.”

Mathaziel chuckled and started another suture, “your knowledge of this stuff is a bit impressive.”

“Violence is honestly the only thing I can remember with any clarity,” Kuzuru muttered, “so what about Sasuke?”

“It appears he is looking for help in retrieving an artefact,” Mathaziel answered, “he’s offering a substantial reward, but I offered him out help in exchange for membership with the Blades.”

Kuzuru grinned.

“I knew there was a reason I summoned you,” he said, “well done Mathaziel, well fucking done, where is he?”

“The Endless Dunes in a deposed city known as Nippur,” the elder demon answered, “I told him you’d be there shortly.”

“Well hurry up then,” Kuzuru said.

“Stop moving and I will.”