Day 2 Morning

[Clownpiece]

Four remained amidst the ruins of the city. The overgrowth that had once grown rampant in the fallen and crumbling structures was now ablaze because of Somerled’s rage. At the center of the fiery devastation stood the monster in question, holding himself high, the facade of friendliness cast aside completely. His eyes shifted hastily back and forth between the two burnt humans, his mouth beginning to water.

Though in battle he had caught himself before he had been completely consumed by anger, there was no doubt that his impulsiveness had influenced what Amaterasu thought of him. He had probably passed the point of no return, or at least was tottering on the brink. The relic was so close, just a bit more and he would have had it in his grasp. That damnable human though. His eyes settled on the dying body of the one who had thrown the stick. If he hadn’t so selflessly jumped in the way, then the green clad man would have been burned up too. The monster gritted his teeth, head pounding. He should eat him on general principles. But he can’t, not while the great kami was here.

So now was the question of where to go next. The man in green had fled, but might be back to avenge the fallen. No, that would be stupid. It would be a two on one. Who knows where he would run to. As much as Somerled itched to give chase, to hunt him down and devour him, and claim that relic that could finally make him whole again, he couldn’t. His rage began swelling up again.

The green clad warrior stood in his way. He was keeping the relic that the monster needed. He would keep him from becoming one person again. Somerled began pacing between the two bodies. He had the fucking gall to injure the greatest of the kami.

“What should I do, Sonny?” he growled, pleading with his silent other half. With each step, his head throbbed, each jolt of mental pain only growing his frustration further. “How can we fix this when he means to trample on everything we do? Huh? Overreacting? Me?” His voice faded away for a moment, before an uproarious laugh emerged from his lips, stopping him in his tracks. His belly-laugh lasted for nearly a minute before it subsided enough for the storm spirit to catch his breath. “No. He needs to die.” He whispered harshly, dropping into a crouch over the unconscious human. “Hey, meatbag...” Somerled poked him. The absolutely delightful scent of charred flesh filled his nose, and it took the monster a great deal of willpower to not just lean over and take a bite. “Will he come back for you?”

Unsurprisingly, no response came from the human who was out cold. “Hey...” the monster shook his arm. At this, Amaterasu saw fit to gently push Somerled aside before he caused more damage. With the sudden intervention by the sun goddess, the storm spirit mumbled a quick apology, and backed away, his bearings starting to return. “If you need me to do something, just say it,” he said quietly. Now that the fog of fury was starting to subside, he realised how impulsive and destructive he had been, and there probably wouldn’t be enough apologies in the world to rectify that. He wished that Sonny had been the one to deal with this shit. The sun spirit wouldn’t fuck this up as royally as he had been.

[Proto Man]

They walked in a loose formation. At their center, Mickey held the shield tight against his chest and kept his eyes on the sloping terrain spread out in front of them. Although still dealing with the symptoms of her head injury, Belle could move of her own accord. The fact that she stopped every couple of minutes to remind Mickey that she could take care of herself was another indicator that she wasn’t going to suffer any long-term damage. Proto Man couldn’t recall what a ‘concussion’ was, but he knew it had something to do with head trauma.

For his part, the preteen machine trailed behind the mouse and the redhead. With Belle concussed and trying to play down her limp, it had become the android’s unspoken role to ensure nothing tried to barrel down on their rears. Since their departure from Weiss and Ruby, their trek had been somewhat uneventful. Proto Man enjoyed the lack of excitement, especially since their realization that the earrings had been altered by the environment.

And the Warlock…

Whatever he was, the warlock held some sort of grip on the island. He’d managed to inflict wounds upon all of them, but worse than that—his sudden appearance, rain of agony, and departure further solidified the notion that they weren’t safe. Even with the newfound shield, they were vulnerable, and in a moment’s instance, their situation could be changed profoundly.

From the mountains, they had passed through gradually shrinking foothills, and as the first strands of sunlight started to break up the night sky, they saw that the landscape opened up for miles before them. All they needed to do was finish their trek down the sloping terrain.

“Any idea where we’re heading?” Proto Man whispered.

Up ahead, Mickey shrugged his shoulders and glanced up at the night sky. After a pregnant pause, he gazed ahead before finally craning his neck to look back at his friend. “I think we’re going down.” He replied without a clear indication of sarcasm.

The preteen machine fell silent as his ears picked up the sound of rustling rocks behind him. With Mickey and Belle continuing ahead as if they heard nothing, Proto Man paused and turned in the direction of the faint noise. For a few moments, he stared blankly back at the slopes behind them, and just before he gave up, he saw something in the distance that made him feel just a little smaller.

As he watched, a chunk of mountain a few hours behind them was unshackled from the forces of gravity. The solid mass tore away from the rest of the peak and started to tumble up into the sky. While the sight of the one jagged rock drifting up into oblivion was fascinating, it didn’t last for very long. Within a few moments, the sky was full of stone shards and pieces of the landscape being uprooted and pulled into whatever nothingness lurked above the island.

“Guys!” Proto Man shouted, unable to pull his eyes away from the strange spectacle that was the mountain range tearing itself apart. “Look at this!”

A beat later, the machine heard the scuffle of oversized boots on the ground as Mickey joined him in gawking at the disintegrating landscape. After a few plodding steps, Belle joined the two small primes and watched in silence as the place where they’d been just hours earlier was devoured by the heavens.

“Want to bet that we caused that?” Belle whispered, glancing down at her two associates. Neither of them responded vocally, but the pair both nodded their heads as they continued to watch the strange spectacle. “We should probably keep a move on… there’s not telling what that’s going to flush out of those hills.”

“Good point,” Proto Man whispered before the trio turned and continued their exodus from the crumbling mountain range.

[Simon]

Again, prior to the challenge...

"Fall back? Wasn't this your idea in the first place?"

True, but that had been before the three of them had found another trio there, licking their wounds from some unseen encounter. Even the high-schooler showed up among them, and while Dante had shown no remorse then, hindsight proved to be perfect vision. "I dunno about you guys," the devil hunter admitted to his two belated companions, "-but I don't exactly think killing each other over a relic we're all fighting for anyways is entirely worth it. If you see what I mean, of course."

Ururu seemed to scoff at that comment, glancing away as if in disgust. "Oh, sure. It's your opinion, no matter how wrong it is."

"That too," Dante dismissed the stealthy insult, looking back past the city and to the northwest horizon. He couldn't see far enough to the edge of the island, but the Devil Hunter just knew that by now, part of the island had just up and disappeared entirely. If disasters like that were going to occur every time someone got their hands on a relic, then Dante wanted a straight shot away from the vicinity when it happened- regardless of whether or not the relic happened to be in his hands.

---

Again, that familiar tremor shook through the half-blood's core, and he hurriedly snapped up where he had dozed off. The spirit's voice resonated one more throughout the lands, but the words fell on the Son of Sparda's deaf ears as he scanned the distance.

There it appeared on the far southern area, farther away than the first collapse of the island but only more extreme. Joining the heaps of dirt, sea, and bedrock were the faded sight of the mountains themselves, snow-capped peaks crumbling and flying away into a shadowy void. Following Dante's vision, the ninja and the demon girl joined the man in his moment of stupefied awe over this dramatic occurrence.

"Someone found another relic," the mercenary said, flat and simple.

Ururu seemed to stumble on her thought for a moment before replying, "Is this gonna happen every time we find a relic?" She received no direct answer, only glances and the silent implication of truth. After a disgruntled sigh, the young shinobi lamented in frustration, "At this rate, there's not even gonna be an island left after this is through."

Maybe that was the point.

A few moments later, and the sky suddenly lit up with a sinister shade of green. A harsh, pride-filled voice took Teucer's place as the speaker over the land, mocking the champions as akin to ants. Cursing his own apparent imprisonment among the Primes, the god-like presence thereafter presented his own ultimatum: he possessed a piece of the armor that the hero's chosen ones had been tasked to find. Those who wished to reclaim it would follow the light to his feet, where they would grovel and plead and swear loyalty in exchange for the item.

Dante hummed in complacence while the ninja harrumphed in aggravation. "As if we had enough omnipotent being dangling power over our heads! Whoever he is, he can go royally screw himself!"

But the Devil Hunter stepped forward, and past her incredulous stare at the action Ururu considered stopping him. Desco considered harder, though, and cried after the man, "Where are you going mister? Are you going to listen to the evil voice?"

Dante simply glanced back, and answered, "I think I'll pay him a visit, yeah."

"No. No way," Ururu shook her head in absolute disbelief, "What the hell are you thinking? You're actually going to go bow to a god in the hopes you'll get power in return?"

At this, the nephilim fully stopped and looked back. "Do I look like an idiot?"

"Yes. Next question."

He shook his head, getting a little bit sick of the insults. "Okay. Lemme set something straight. I love a challenge- even since back home when I discovered I was practically invincible. God knows when you're the most powerful thing around, you'd kill for the chance to fight something potentially stronger. But if there's anything I love more than taking risks, fighting demons, and kicking ass in the most extravagant of ways... it's walking right up to someone that thinks they're hot shit and telling them 'no', right to their face.

"So, yeah. I'll be off doing that. Catch up with you later, then, I guess." And with that, Dante turned back forward and gave a single wave goodbye, intent on confronting whoever this high and mighty deity could be.

[Amaterasu]

Amaterasu bit her lip and looked at the two unconscious individuals. They were bleeding and burnt, and she had no means to help them other than to wrap their injuries up as best as she could - which wasn't all that good considering that her right arm barely obeyed her orders. Had she only had access to her Celestial Brush - Restore technique, she may have been able to draw fresh skin over their cuts and bruises, but out here she was powerless.

Then again, what could they have done? Somerled had done what was necessary, they could have been killed had it not been for his... explosion attack, whatever that was. It was either them or the others, and from the looks of it the others had gotten the short end of the stick today. One of them had managed to escape, and she could tell that Somerled wanted to go after him.

"They're going to die..." she muttered and pointed at the two bodies. "They're slipping away beneath my fingers. I can only hope that what Omni told us applies here too, that they will return." Then, biting her lip, she reached out and picked up the slingshot that one of them had used. The stick she left discarded - and she also laid the severed arm aside - then she joined back up with Somerled. "The one in green will likely want to go back to the temple now that he has a relic, to bring it back and challenge the others. If you want to fight him for it we should take that route too. I wanted to return there to assist Hero Teucer with his ritual in any case." She offered. "Our fighting may attract others, we shouldn't stay here."

[The Spirit]

PHASE TWO

“Congratulation heroes! You have defeated four of the Guardians! Hurry out from that land! There’s only two left to go! I am eternally grateful for your assistance."

------------


Weiss and Ruby saw the ground behind them falling off into the abyss. The two panicked as they attempted to get up but there was no more time. The ground was disappearing too quickly. As the two began to fall into darkness they embraced each other one last time.

RUBY DEAD
WEISS DEAD
Rows five and above are disappearing forever.
The bottom corner has now fallen off the map.
No new weather has appeared

[Kopaka]

It happened slowly at first. A faint white shimmer on the horizon. Kopaka thought, perhaps, that it was some trick of the light as the sun began to rise over the cool sea beyond the walls of the ruined city. The more the Toa watched, however, the more he realized that the sea itself was beginning to illuminate. Then, great twisting spires of sea water began to spiral together, rising into the hazy void far above, along with hunks of tree speckled hills. This time the progression was rapid, startling even.

And it was coming straight for them.

Kopaka and Magus both looked at each other with blank expressions, both doing their best to remain stoic in a situation that clearly called for panic. With healthy gaites, the two Primes doubled back along the road they had just traveled. Magus and the Toa both continually looked back over their shoulders, maintaining their long distance jogging, to ensure that the devastation was not already upon them.

Just when it seemed like they were going to be okay, a gleaming white fissure in the earth split open on a hill ahead to their left with a splintering crack. All at once, lines of stress spiderwebbed their way across the ground, each partitioned mote of land beginning to sag or ascend according to whatever perverted magic ruled this place. The sound was monstrous as the two Primes began to half sprint, half scramble over terraces that began to form.

Their frenzied steps became enlabored as the land began to slope upwards, or rather, slope downwards behind them. As the shelf of dirt they were on began to drift downward, Magus was barely able to cling to a single trembling cobblestone with one gloved hand. Without a moment's hesitation, Kopaka rushed forwards and grabbed Magus' legs, hunkering down and giving the wizard the boost he needed to get over the lip of the sundered land.

In turn, Magus wheeled around and snatched for Kopaka's hand, but grasped only air as the terrace of crumbling strata drifted further away. Kopaka scowled upwards, not at Magus but at the distance, gauging it carefully. Calling upon the Kanohi Miru, the Toa of Ice was able to blast away from the dislodged earth, the power of the mask just barely putting him within the reach of Magus' arms. As the remainder of the land behind them disintigrated away to flickering white nothingness, Kopaka slowly braced his feet against the soil wall that was the new edge of the island, clambering up onto the grass, safe and sound.

Panting, the two Primes both gazed blankly at the wall of radiance where there had once been a city. Even now, small pebbles and motes of grass were swept up in the rushing vacuum.

"Thanks." Magus managed between breaths. Kopaka hadn't heard the wizard use such pedestrian verbiage up until this point. It was liable to be the extent of any sort of emotional reaction to their near-obliteration. The least Kopaka could do was meet him half-way.

"You too."

Taking only a few more moments to steel themselves, the Primes continued back up the road again. They would have to discuss a new strategy soon. Events were progressing more quickly than expected, and it wasn't as if the artifacts would simply fall into their laps. Of course, the moment Kopaka considered this thought in his mind, a sharp glint of metal up ahead caught his cybernetic eyes. Switching back to the Akaku, Kopaka used the telescopic lens to scope out the source of the blinking light. It wad that near-human from the temple who had approached him, and later Magus as well. Perhaps an accord could still be reached, especially since it appeared he was wearing what quite possibly was one of Teucer's regalia.

...

After meeting with the young man, who Kopaka came to know as Link, it was apparent that his excursions around the island had indeed bore ripe fruit. The Toa was especially interested to hear about the boy's encounter with one of the rumored guardians. It was clear, however, that Link was beaten and tired.

"Either of you have anything to drink?" Link said, wiping away a recurring stream of blood from his face. Kopaka, thinking nothing of it, rotated his satchel of strange, blue food around and dug through it. A moment later the Toa withdrew a strange carton of some kind of liquid. It was probably edible.

"Here." Kopaka said, tossing the carton to Link. The Hylian greedily tore open the spout of the milk and began to suck it down. He almost instantaneously gagged, and had to cover his mouth with a gloved hand to avoid spitting the vile liquid all over the ground. It has a sharp, medicinal taste to it. Whatever it was, the food wasn't spoiled; being strapped to a Toa of Ice had ensured that. Just as Link was about to politely suggest they find a nearby stream, something strange began to occur.

Blue light began to trace around the Hylian's wounds, causing them to slowly weave themselves shut. Magus, Link and Kopaka all stopped what they were doing and stared as the boy's injuries healed before their eyes. So...it was more than mere food. Teucer had provided Kopaka with some sort of sustenance with enhanced regenerative benefits. In hindsight, a powerful boon, and the Toa was glad that he had heretofore abstained from using any of the alien foodstuff for mere nutrition.

...

Half an hour later, Link had eaten nearly two thirds of Kopaka's groceries. It appeared that no wound was too great for the food's ability to overcome. Magus wore a stern expression the entire time Kopaka continued to feed the Hylian, but remained silent. Clearly Link was a valuable and skilled warrior; having him injured would just be a waste of air, or worse, a liability.

"Thank you for your kindness..." Link said with a somewhat ashamed look. There was little he could immediately offer in return.

"Kindness has nothing to do with it." Kopaka said flatly, swinging the woven rucksack back over his shoulder. There was enough food left for one last session of healing. Link appeared to be in fighting shape again; it would be better to save some of the miracle groceries for an emergency situation. Link clambered to his feet and dusted himself off, and along with Kopaka, turned to Magus expectantly.

The sun was fully risen by this point, and another long day was ahead of them. The wizard was glad at the implicit sign that he was still in charge, and smirked as he looked over the remaining landscape. Kopaka looked along with him and clenched a single fist.

[Belle]

The night stretched onward, cold and oppressively dark. Belle had only gone camping a few times in her life, but even then, her family had had flashlights and lamps. Even at its darkest, the night had held no mystery. What possessed people, she had wondered, to leave the comforts of civilization behind and subject themselves to what amounted to nothing more than a night spent on uncomfortable rocks?

But here, far away from everything, far away, perhaps, even from reality, she thought she finally understood. There were no man-made lights out here, no fires, nothing to wash out the vault of stars that arched overhead. A dim, ghostly light filtered down across the lonely landscape, providing just enough illumination to color the blades of grass as the three trekked onward.

Eventually, the robot kid decided that they had gone far enough, and called a halt. Belle did not say anything, but she was relieved. Her head was pounding, it felt swollen and stuffy. It was hard to focus. The two had been reassuring, but considering one was a robot and the other a cartoon character that was no doubt used to having pianos fall on his head, she questioned their medical expertise.

With no tent, they had to make do. One of the nearby trees served as a source of thick, heavy branches. Belle kind of felt bad about it, but given the way things on the island seemed to be going, the trees were probably not long for this world anyway. The thicker branches the other two broke into pieces, piling them together in a loose circle of stones. The thinner ones they attempted to string together around another buried in the earth. Belle eventually had to sacrifice one of her shoe laces to keep the branches tied together. The end result wasn't going to keep snow out, and probably wouldn't survive a stiff breeze, but it was enough to keep out the errant chilly whisper that passed across the grasslands.

Belle lay inside, watching as the Mouse and Roboboy attempted to get a fire going.

On Coruscant, the night was louder than the day, filled with sirens and irritated horns. On Earth, even the quietest night was broken by the passing of a plane overhead. That night, when the other two eventually stopped talking, all that rushed in to fill the void was the sigh of her breathing and thump of her beating heart.

In all the chaos and confusion, there was at least that certainty: they were still alive. Bruised and bloodied, but alive.

And she intended to keep it that way.

~+~+~+~

Rain pounded down around her, dripping through the leafs overhead as she huddled within the bush. Her clothes were soaked, clinging to her body as a cold, biting wind whistled. She tucked her knees to her chest, hugging them, rain mixing with the stale tears on her cheeks.

She cried, but no one answered. Were they looking for her? Probably not. They'd never find her, anyway. She'd ran and ran, and now even she had no idea where she was. No one was coming to save her.

But then someone did. "Don't be afraid," a voice said, calm and strong. A hand reached through a hole in the bushes. She took it.

"I'll protect you."

~+~+~+~

Belle woke with a start. Her eyes fluttered, scrunching tight as she was nearly blinded. Early morning sunlight stabbed through the holes in the hovel, landing across her eyes. She held up a hand, shifted position, and groaned as soreness rippled up through her back. The other two had joined her sometime during the night, and she bumped against them as she craned her neck to peer outside.

Mumbling to herself, she rose to hands and knees and shimmied out of the 'teepee.'

Mickey and Roboboy must have eventually succeeded. A few embers could still be seen in the black pile of ashes. One glowed next to the singed remains of what seemed to have been a magazine page.

Poor Mickey. She wondered how many he had left. Oh well. At least he still has his shield, she thought, turning her eyes back to the hovel. They still seemed to be asleep. Good. They didn't need to watch this.

To protect. Maybe it was arrogant of her to think that she could. Armored Mickey seemed more than capable of taking care of itself. But then, so had Lily.

That day, something had been lit inside of her. The embers had simmered, long years waiting for the right moment to catch.

The pile of ashes continued to smoke as Belle raised her hands and squared her stance. With Lady Yuki's critical remarks still fresh in her memory, she began her morning routine.

[Magus]

Before Kopaka’s most recent post

Neither mentioned it. They didn’t need to. Both were forced to acknowledge the taciturn intelligence of the other, and each of them knew that the other had come to the same conclusion – that Teucer wasn’t the only being pulling the strings on this bizarre island.

Clashing flashes of light swirled up, pillar-like, from the thick of the humid jungle, spiraling up into the sky. Magus was tempted – anything to defy Teucer as a small revenge for having been literally spirited away would have brought a smile to his lips.

Kopaka’s direct query brought him back to earth – or wherever the hell they were – and forced Magus to give pause. Electing to opt out of the battle was easy and the decision came swiftly. The wizard appreciated this; too many times had he been stuck with would-be heroes who would dumbly charge into every challenge presented to them – or worse, to bicker amongst one another for goddamn eons about what the best decision would be.

Kopaka just wanted progress, and didn’t seem to care about how to go about achieving it, and that suited the Demon King just fine. If the frigid thing could fight, this partnership would be a fine one indeed.

- - - - -

Their progress was relentless, but the march was grueling. The ground alternated from rough and rugged, with dips and bumps and ridges, to muddy and slippery at a moment’s notice. To compound their problems, tree roots and vines snaked their miserable way across whatever snippets of terrain hadn’t been consumed by undergrowth, making each step a perilous one.

The fact was emphasized when, after slogging through a particularly difficult patch, Magus slipped on a wet stone and when he tried to recover, caught his other foot beneath a gnarled root, toppling to his hands and knees with an alarming pain shooting up his ankle.

Magus remained still, eyes wide and panting. He was so hot. So goddamn, miserably hot. And sweaty. Sticky. The miserable chill of the Forbidden Magic still eluded him, compounded with this oppressive heat.

The wizard rose up, still on his knees, and dragged his cloak over his head, caring not for how matted and wild it made his hair. He threw the garment to the floor and did the same with his thick, leather gloves, and then his shirt. He climbed to his feet, an imposing tower of pallid, sun-shy flesh, covered in old scars and war wounds.

He was delirious, and knew he was on the verge of passing out, overwhelming by the heat that he’d endured in his heavy attire.

And then, without a word, he bear-hugged Kopaka from behind. The machine-man could only manage a curt “What?” as the wizard pressed his flesh against the Toa’s frigid form. It was awkward, to say the least, and Magus dreaded someone stumbling out of the jungle and spotting them.

But it worked. The frigid metal cooled his heat-soaked body and cleared his head. After a few moments, his flesh burned from being pressed against such cold metal, and Magus ceased his embrace. Immediately, Kopaka whirled around and stepped back, seemingly glaring at him from behind the mask.

“It was either that or I pass out from exhaustion,” the pale, half-naked wizard quipped, before the cyborg had a chance to say anything. Magus was a little red and struggled to hide it. “I suggest we…” he cleared his throat. “We should just-”

Before he could continue, the ground began to tremble, before escalating into a terrible quaking. All around them, they could hear the groans and crashed of new fissures opening up in the earth, along with the snaps and cracks of ancient trees being felled.

Oh thank God.

“We must vacate this place, or it will bury us at the bottom of the sea,” Kopaka declared. The Fiendlord nodded and led the way back from whence they came. He wasn’t fond of back-tracking, but the idea of being dragged to a watery grave by thousands of tons of earth didn’t exactly seem like an appealing alternative.

After Kopaka’s post

Three strong now, and still it seemed as though Magus was at the helm of their quiet alliance. This suited him well – the Demon King had been suspicious of Kopaka, but he really was beginning to accept that the only thing the machine was concerned with was the death of the one called ‘Mickey Mouse.’

No matter, he finally decided, if Magus could walk out of this place with great power, then Kopaka would walk out with Mickey’s head.

And Link…

“There are artifacts out there,” Magus quietly began, climbing to his feet and dusting himself off. “Guardians or not. They’re ours to take. We have strength, numbers, and strategy. All that remains…” he paused, looking at the Hylian boy. How innocent was he, and why did the overwhelming sense of déjà vu keep scratching at the back of his mind like rats, eating away at him. “…Is blood.”

[Enzo Matrix]

In a short time Matrix had gone from being utterly lost to traveling with three additional companions. One of them was even the virus he'd offered an alliance to against all of his internal screaming. So, at least that had sort of worked out.

It was a good thing he wasn't alone, because now they stood before some horrific monstrosity that his cybernetic eye had identified as the Cyberdemon. In one hand it tightly clutched a sword that was certainly the treasure they sought, but the other arm was one hundred percent rocket launcher, which made it the more immediate concern.

A volley of missiles shot from it's arm mounted launcher, covering the battlefield with explosions. Matrix could only brace himself and hold his arms up to shield his head, as futile as that would be upon a direct hit. The blasts briefly halted and smoke swept through the area. Matrix took that opportunity to charge in cyborg creature's direction.

Matrix emerged from the smoke far closer to the beast than he expected. He was so close, in fact, that his eyes widened mid-sprint. He was committed, though, so he gritted his teeth and continued on his course, colliding with the Cyberdemon in a powerful tackle. The monster was barely phased, and Matrix stepped back as he looked up at the massive creature. That was not a part of the plan.

He couldn't stand around and think about it for too long, though. Matrix instead snatched the knife he'd been given from his belt, gripping it backwards as he did. The Cyberdemon swung the hero's sword at him in a horizontal slash, and Matrix maneuvered the knife before the blade in time.

Though his own edge prevented the sword from slicing into him, it did nothing to stop Matrix from being flung aside from the sheer blunt force the Cyberdemon was able to generate. Matrix hit the ground and rolled to his feet, cursing wildly as he stood up. With some distance between them he was now back in the range of that rocket launcher. Despite his only weapon being this knife, he'd much rather take his chances against that sword than another hail of rockets.

The Cyberdemon raised the rocket launcher in his direction, but it was suddenly struck by something else. Another attack had distracted it, though Matrix was too consumed by his own tunnel vision to identify his allies. All he saw was the monster's back suddenly turned to him.

From there his basic combat instincts took over. A weakness was presented, and it had to be exploited. Matrix charged forward as fast as he could again, leaping onto the Cyberdemon's back as it fired it's rockets towards the others. As soon as he was on the massive creature's back he stabbed the knife into the monster's neck. To his great surprise, the blade didn't slice the creature's flesh at all like he thought it would. It's "skin" was thick and difficult for the blade to pierce. Matrix again found himself temporarily stunned by this thing's resilience.

The Cyberdemon violently shrugged it's shoulders, forcing Matrix to let go. His feet had barely touched the ground when the monster abruptly turned around and smashed him in the side of the head with the missile launcher affixed to it's arm. He was momentarily dazed, but the sounds of battle snapped him back to reality. This thing would not beat him.

The Cyberdemon let out a powerful roar as the others closed in, and all Matrix could do was emit a matching war cry before charging back into the fray.

[Albert Wesker]

This time it looked like he was really in over his head. Whatever this thing was, it certainly looked a hell of a lot more nasty than the last guardian he'd rumbled with. That thing had been big and menacing, but it's only armament had been that drill-arm. This thing, though? It had a rocket launcher arm. And a sword, probably the relic they were after, in its other hand. For once, Colonel was honestly glad he wasn't fighting this thing one on one. That would have been a sure way to wind up in a very bad spot.

Explosions and smoke covered the battlefield as the horrific demon let fly with a volley of missiles. The mechanical soldier instinctively dropped into a roll to one side, coming up sprawled out against a chunk of debris, blacked by the chain of explosions and constant exposure to the dust and ash clogging the air. Pain radiated down his spin and he almost wished his arm was numb from how it felt. Sparks flickered around his shoulder joint, the misaligned mechanisms within protesting greatly against his lack of repairing them posthaste. A faint grinding of gears sounded from his legs as he forced himself upright. Peering around his semblance of cover, he watched as the green man charged the monstrosity, and tried to tackle it down...with all the effectiveness of a toddler hitting a linebacker.

A blow from the sword sent Matrix flying, and the demon raised its rocket launching appendage to unleash another deadly hail of rocket fire. The unmistakable booming crack of a firearm sounded, and the demon rounded on the source of the unexpected shot, presenting its back to its intended prey, and leaving its flank wide open to him. Now.

With a flick of his undamaged wrist, the sword in his hand disengaged, falling apart into its whip state. A few short, stuttering steps was all it took, even with his hampered freedom of movement, and he was within range. His arm went up and so did the sword-whip, and in a flash of steel the serpentine mass of blades lashed out and entangled itself around the rocket launcher the beast sported. A mighty tug sent the creature's aim wide, rockets spraying everywhere and minimizing any devastating effect they might have had on his 'allies'.

But all that had really been accomplished was he'd made the cyberdemon good and mad. Its horned visage rounded on him, leering down at him, but was distracted from visiting retribution on him by the knife jabbing into its neck from behind. With a garbled, inhuman growling noise it shrugged the would-be assassin off of its back, and with strength befitting its monstrous frame, gave a pull of its own on the whip barely restraining its limb.

The soldier program was sent staggering out into the open, his balance hopelessly torn from him. All he could do was disengage the sword-whip's hold and withdraw it to its blade form, bringing it to bear against a blow from the thing's own sword as it swept around in a vicious arc.

Electricity and loose data flared from the gaping wound in his torso as he deflected the blow — if you could call it deflecting it — and was knocked clean off his feet from the impact, sending him rolling and skidding haplessly off the ground. Only the peal of two more shots from what must have been quite the oversized gun kept the demonic brute from stamping out Colonel's life — quite literally, as its cloven hoof crashed down inches from his head.

[Dave Strider]

"This is such a load of crap..."

Ryner sighed as he trudged along the jungle once more, head down, not paying a single glance to his surroundings.

"First person I meet and I go ahead and set him on fire... gahh!"

At least the demon within him was silent now. After a while of stuffing his face with more fruit, the Alpha Stigma finally figured out that it was the fruit was actually increasing the demon's activity, instead of diminishing it. Once he discovered that, he quickly spit out the mouthful of blue juices and had set off into the forest gain. His malicious attack was still heavy upon his shoulder, however.

"Damn it... it would have been nice to talk to someone else. Heck, I would even take Ferris with all her nagging and accusations of me being a pervert..."

Suddenly, the area around him seemed to thunder and shake, there was a battle nearby. As if on instinct, the Alpha Stigma hurried to the scene, finding a group of heroes fighting off a large Cyberdemon.

'What the hell?!"

Hell was correct. This was definitely a beast from hell.

Without a second thought, Ryner began trying to defend the other heroes, taking aim with his flare gun and flanking the demon. Luckily, it hadn't quite caught sight of him yet, but that wasn't going to last long.

"Hey buddy! Why don't you look this way!"

With a angry shout Ryner blasted a bright flare into the beasts face, causing it to roar, though more out of anger than pain.

In that same instant, Ryner pelt a wave of regret as he remembered that he had lost knowledge of the spells he had learned in his home world. Stuttered words fell through the air like stone as he tried to remember the Spirit Beast.

" I sign this agreement....."

No wait that isn't it.

"I offer up this contract..."

The Alpha Stigma struggled to focus on his surroundings and the impending hell fire of missiles that the demon was preparing. Ryner continued his ritual, twirling his finger above his head hesitantly as he continued his chant.

"...to face the beast... the wicked earth.. damn it... "

Shots fired out of the beasts cannon, spraying out at Ryner as he snapped back into focus, trying to dive out of the way

"CRAP!"

The blast caught the Alpha Stigma, throwing him against a nearby large boulder and knocking the wind out of him. He drowsily looked up and watched his new allies strike the beast from behind, using the opening Ryner had made for them.

"Alright, you guys go ahead, I'm just going to lay here for a- AHH"

A stray missile struck the stone above him, causing him to jump on his feet and circle the demon.

"Alright! I'll see what else I can do... no promises though." Ryner spoke in a positive tone, happy that he found a new purpose.

On the other hand, he could also go for a nap right abut now.

[Moon]

[spoiler]Music To Be Played[/spoiler]

This wasn't working.

Everywhere around him was crashing, falling into the briny seas surrounding him. It was frightening. Not to mention, he was still passing out every few hours. He still needed allies. But, now that he thought about it, well... He wasn't living for long at this point. One more fight would spell his doom, for certain. Did he have time to find any allies anymore? If one thought about it, probably not. But four of the six guardians were gone. This wasn't about finding the guardians anymore. This was simply pure survival. And he was terribly failing.


What more was there for him if he did survive, though? Insanity, likely. Everything went black for a moment. Where'd everything go...?


Oh, hold on. There it was. Must have passed out again. Busted his lip, too. Great.


Somehow, he'd survived the first day of this hell. Everything was going smoothly as of now.... actually, that was a lie. Things were terrible. But he wasn't dead, yeah? A small smirk fell upon his face as he walked, limping, concussed, short of breath, and down an arm. Despite all that, it'd all worked out okay. Making it out in one- er, two- pieces was unlikely. Fuck odds though, right? "Heh. You hear that? I'm making it out, whether you like it or not!" The sentence was slurred, but the message still came across well enough to be understood.

Because despite it all, he was a hero all the same.

[Smith]

Well then. Everything seemed... to be going according to plan. The dross Smith had managed to gather unto himself since the debacle with the Mouse and Woman have certainly proven useful in this current battle. They had kept the creature from attacking Smith, at least directly. Though formidable, the beast was but one. Smith and his allies were many. And while the others might be little more than trash compared to the Ex-Agent himself, they would, at the very least... provide a distraction. A strategy that Smith had taken advantage of several times already.

It was amusing to think that they would probably think he was attacking the beast to protect them; to divert its attention or attacks so that they may continue the fight. And while that may not necessarily be untrue, Smith had no such noble intentions in mind when he pulled the trigger on his over-sized weapon. Every shot had been perfect in execution, each projectile striking precisely where the program desired.

It was fortunate that Smith's allies seemed to have a melee bent about them. Though he was no slouch in hand-to-hand combat, the risk of getting in close with the gigantic guardian was simply unacceptable at this junction. It was more than difficult enough for Smith to simply avoid its semi-random rocket-launches, his own impressive speed being barely able to escape the blast radii without more than minor scorching and contusions.

The program reloaded his massive revolver, and took a moment to watch the battle unfold as he did so. Colonel, Matrix, and the newcomer worked well as a team, Smith had to hand it to them. They harried their foe to and fro, never allowing it time to focus a counterattack upon any one of them before another came in to strike. However, it was a stalling tactic, at best. At worst, the cyberdemon had tools in its arsenal to deal with such a situation.

With fresh round within his weapon, Smith renewed his attack in earnest. The cavern echoed with the cracks of the Good Samaritan, once, twice, thrice and four times. Smith emptied the weapon's chambers at the beast in rapid succession. The heavy recoil of the revolver had taken some getting used to before, but Smith was nothing if not adaptable. His round he fired struck true, and as the cyberdemon roared in anger and hatred, its beady eyes turned to Smith. The creature's arm raised towards him, the hollow barrel grafted to it ready to launch a volley of missile fire. It was time.

The world slowed down to a near stand-still as Smith's enhanced processing kicked in. The suited man dashed towards his foe, his form a black and white blur. For the first time in the fight, the Ex-Agent was within striking distance of the beast. He knew this was dangerous. If he had miscalculated, then the creature's counterattack would be disastrous. However, it was their best chance at victory.

Feet and fists flew as Smith launched a volley of strikes against the behemoth before him. It was tall, far too tall to strike against anything higher than its waist. It was fortunate, then, that Smith's target was below there. Again and again, he rained blows upon the cyberdemon's mechanical knee-joint. The same area that Smith had explicitly targeted with his ranged attacks. After all, the best way to topple a sky scraper was to take out its base. The world slowly shifted back to normal speed, and the Agent took a step back, prepared to defend himself against the possible, and likely, retaliation of his actions.

[Okor]

Translucent blood pumped through torn ventricles, the diseased blood even further tainted with potent combat stimulants. Fury burned in the desiccated wrinkles of his gangrenous grey matter, a red haze clouding his vision. Opaque scabs had already formed over what injuries he had suffered in the madness, parasites barely visible through the glassy coagulant, squirming within their ancient host, the recent defeat stirring up dissonant whispers of doubt within the hive.

Gods-Damned magical children.

An iron-clad fist crashed into a tree, splinters flying from the impact, embedding themselves in dead flesh and distant dirt.

He was so close.

A kick this time, the weight behind the rusted grave cracking the massive trunk, hairline fractures stemming from the pulped dent in its flank.

He was Okor Paleblood, not some weak-blooded loyalist lapdog, not some pathetic killer, not a damnable failure.

A horned head careened into the tree, the impact dealing the final blow to the ancient arboreal being, its damaged form unable to withstand the brunt of the marine’s rage. With a resounding crack, the tree fell into its final resting place, its fellows crowding around its corpse in a sepulchral shield, as if their presence could spare it from the ravages of death.

Okor Paleblood. Tears came to his eye, not only because of the spear of wood impaling that crimson orb.

The name used to mean something, back when things still made sense. Okor, his given name.

The name of the boy that died long ago, that accursed day on Barbarus. He had tried so hard to forget, to wash the blood from his hands. He thought he had succeeded, that millennia of dreamless sleep had allowed him to leave the past behind.

Choked laughter filled the vista of violence, gaunt claws wrapping around his helmet, attempting to drown out the voices coming from within. The accusatory apparitions on the edge of his vision speaking in tongues, whispering condemnations into the rotten holes where ears once existed. Disemboweled parents lifted maimed hands towards him, moaning with cleaved jaws, implying that he could have stopped the madness, that if he had just been stronger, faster, braver, he could have saved them all. Screams seemed to come from all around him, wisps of flame filling his vision as his home burned.

Little sister, her name, like Barbarus, lost to the mists of time, floated into his vision. Ethereal tatters of a pure white dress hung around her slight form, blood staining the virgin cloth. A face that would have been beautiful, given time, was caved in, fragments of brain and bone adorning raven-black hair.

He could still feel the weight of the stone that did the deed in his hands, every bump and notch on its surface noted and committed to memory. He knew that rock better than he knew himself.

He swallowed blood and bile as the past assailed him. Terran-born gene brothers, his rounds frozen mid-detonation in their bodies, could do little more than glare at them as their lungs collapsed, Imperial citizens were frozen mid-scream, their bodies disintegrating as an Exterminatus brought about by his contagions killed a world.

Brothers.

Sisters.

Fathers.

Mothers.

He had killed, and he had killed, and he had killed. He had fired his bolter until it clicked dry, severed and stabbed until his blade blunted, and crushed until there was nothing left to destroy.

Heretic. Traitor. Murderer.

He could not deny these curses. He looked down at his hands, seeing the innocent blood shed over the millennia flowing from cadaverous claws, the undeniable scarlet sin seeping from them, tainting the scuffed surface beneath him.

The sacrifices had been worth it. Every slaughtered world, every heart carved out with the sacred blade, the trail of ash and death left in his wake. He had done so much good with the power, he was saving reality, breaking down the lies of the Imperium, he had found a purpose in his eternal life. He could stand alone against the Empire that had forged him, and win.

He was a force of nature, the inevitable end of all life, the eternal warrior of entropy.

And now it was contemptuously easy for a little girl to defeat him.

The wraiths vanished, fading into the deadened recesses of his rotten mind, their task complete.

What in the hells was he doing here? Trying to win this for the institute? He failed to stifle a laugh at that notion. They were doomed. They were little more than playthings for the elder primes, heaping mud on their heads and proclaiming themselves as kings, only to have it all torn away from them in a singular moment of cruelty.

He had joined the Institute because Nealaphh had offered him a war worth fighting. It seemed like Hubris now, a foolish dream of glory that existed for as long as it took for a child to pound him into the dirt. Why would he fight a war he had no hope of winning?

The answer pierced his haze like an answer from the Gods themselves.

To make the bastards bleed.

If weakness did not exist within their demiurge-forged bodies, then he would force it upon them. He would taint their disgustingly pure blood with the love of Nurgle, he would shatter bones under his blows, he would sever the bonds that tied them to this world. He would make them just like him. When they looked over his broken body, feeling his gifts worm through their veins, they would see the cycle, see how it all needed to end, to start again.

He staggered forth, his emaciated frame ravaged by a thousand minor wounds. He was already damned, doomed to die in this worthless mockery of realspace. If he could not have his victory, then he would deny it to the unworthy. If he could not kill, he would maim, he would break, he would let their wounds fester and rot.

He would teach them what it meant to live, what it was like to suffer through ten millennia of guilt, of shame, of the sheer inability to die and know some kind of peace, or they would die attempting to comprehend his suffering.

[The Spirit]

CHALLENGE
CYBERDEMON vs. COLONEL, SMITH, ENZO, RYNER.

The agent's quick thinking had a positive effect for the group, with the final projectile exiting the oversized gun, the mighty beast was forced to take a knee. Smith succeeded and took his distance to reload. An opportunity his allies could not let go to waste. Ryner forced himself up and took aim with his weapon, "I hope you burn!" Shooting the red flare towards the creature, hoping it would catch fire like it did the last time he used it. The red orb landed on top of the guardian's head, lighting up the cavern and it's head. The disappointed look on Ryner's face was indescribable.

Colonel saw an opportunity, his target was lid up and distracted by Ryner's attempt at a decent attack. A powerful purple aura started to appear around the champion for a brief instant before letting out a surge of power. Leaving his body surrounded by a faint glow of dark purple, his sword got covered with the same aura and his eyes started to flicker with sparks of light. Smith noticed the energy that was being released off of his comrade, and noticed the cracked ground underneath him, it was only logical to get out of Colonel's way. Without a moment's hesitation the mechanical soldier flashed towards the giant, moving much faster than before. Readying his weapon to strike the mighty creature, he started to charge his weapon, building up an devastating charge within his blade. He leapt into the air and carved a Z of energy into it, right before performing his signature move upon the creature. The crackling power was trailing his sword as it cut right through the chest of the guardian, leaving a large wound on the creature's body who led out a agonizing roar. The beast clearly felt that one.

Enzo was impressed with the Colonel's show of power and got inspired to do so as well. Charging in towards the guardian's good leg he forced his knife into its thick skin. He knew it did not have the same effect as the soldier's attack but he had to contribute towards the defeat of this creature. Instead of using his gift from Teuser he aimed his hand towards the creature's face, focusing his own energy within his hand, creating a ball of energy, hovering above his palm before sending it flying in the form of a fireball. The blazing ball struck the Cyberdemons head and created a sea of flames covering its face.

Smith finished off the combo attack with his own high speed chain of attack. As if time was inching forward the incredibly fast agent was in overdrive and managed to empty yet another round of bullets, this time however, his program allowed him to quickly follow up each bullet, determining its trajectory to perfection, forcing every bullet inside it's body through the opening in its chest.

The beast had enough of the champions abuse and pushed his ugly, angry face through the flames and started getting up, shaking off Colonel who did a number on its chest. With a mighty roar and his foot stamping the ground he once more expressed its dominant power. The entire cavern was shaking by the sheer force released from the hellish beast, debris falling all around the champions. It was a sight to fear, and an emotion resembling fear was felt within the brave warriors around it. Instinctively they took a step back, preparing for the worst. It seems all they achieved was really piss the damn thing off. The horned demon did not waste any time and charged into Enzo. For a big ass monster he suddenly moved allot faster than they gave him credit for. The green skinned champion looked upwards as his eyes met with Cyberdemon's. Getting ready to retreat Enzo decided to get out of harm's way. A single step in the wrong direction was enough, the demon forced his hoof downwards with all its might, stepping on the champion. Enzo cried out in pain, the weight that was put behind the stomp was immense and unstoppable for him alone.

Ryner did not hesitate for a moment and rushed over to help his ally, alright maybe he hesitated a little, but who wouldn't while facing a creature of this kind. Running up to the monster's side he prepared his weapon. Aiming it towards his head and squeezing the trigger it send a red flare upwards," Over here you freak! Come over here! OI, look over here ! I am right he,..-" The cyberdemon responded to the pest by swinging his metallic arm right at the boy, slamming him into the stone walls of the cavern, covering him in debris once more. The Alpha Stigma attempted to make another smart ass comment, but lost consciousness before doing so.

Two Champions still standing looked at each other, they had to take it down now before they themselves fell victim to the beast's rampage. The agent reloaded his weapon as Colonel got ready to once more strike the guardian. With dashing speed the sword wielding program rushed towards his opponent while it was still preoccupied with decorating the cavern walls with Ryner's body. Forcing his blade into the guardian's side, the mechanical soldier immediately got his attention and was greeted by one of its hoofs. Kicking Colonel's entire body and blowing it back into the other side of the cavern wall. Even though Enzo got released from his position he did not move.

Colonel got up slowly, his body was hurt bad. Only Smith was still firing his rounds at the creature. His calm posture did not show fear at all. Fear is a weak human emotion and did not have any place within this world. The last bullet found its way into the wound created earlier by his ally Colonel, bringing only more anger and rage to the creature. The cyberdemon aimed his own weapon towards Smith and a volley of missiles was send his way. Smith did not know fear, but he did know when it was time to retreat. Rushing to get out of the barrages range he made his way to Colonel, who in turn witnessed the second volley heading straight towards them both, but it was too late. Both champions were caught in a giant explosion of fire, leaving both the digital champions underneath a pile of rocks.

The Cyberdemon roared victorious as it walked back deeper into the cave.

[spoiler]Colonel 7 Damage, The kick and explosion combined with previous injuries -2sp 1 offensive Supermove 1 powerup used
Smith 9 Damage, The explosion caused a whiplash and his right leg got a rock pierced through it. -1 SP 1 offensive supermove used
Enzo 15 Damage, His ribs are crushed and he has internal injuries. -1SP 1 offensive supermove used
Ryner 14 Damage, His face is covered in bloods and his back has rock splinters forced inside deep within his body.
Cyberdemon : 6 Damage with a large wound on its chest. It resides deep within the cavern once more.[/spoiler]

[Clownpiece]

"Our fighting may attract others, we shouldn't stay here."

Amaterasu’s calm voice suggested, helping to ease Somerled’s temper somewhat. The monster silently cursed his rash behaviour again. A simple brawl wouldn’t have attracted attention, they would have remained as unnoticed as ever. However, a giant blast of solar heat and light? People are gonna notice a second sun, even if it lasts for only a second.
“Let’s get moving then,” he said, turning away from the bodies and taking a step

“Wait,” the sun goddess said, a plea that, to the ears of the outranked monster, sounded more like an order. He stopped in his tracks immediately, already knowing what she was going to say. She wouldn’t be able to just leave the dying humans here. If they were slipping away anyway, it seemed entirely pointless to do anything but let them fester and die. Alas, he couldn’t go against the great kami.

“Okay!” Somerled responded in a somewhat nice voice, his normal mastery of body language slipping in his frustration. Carefully, he bent over and picked up the body of the unconscious human, applying a delicacy he usually never used in order to avoid drawing the ire of Amaterasu.

Now with no choice but to have the human so close to him, that burnt smell filled his nostrils, hungering him, tempting him. “Lead the way,” he said, voice wavering. He hoped he had the will in him.

[Enzo Matrix]

"Virus! How did I know I'd see you again?"

"No need to raise your weapon at me. I believe you were the one that first suggested...an alliance."

"Maybe so, but I don't trust you."

"I have nothing to gain by entering into combat with you at this juncture. After all, we are both...champions. Given our circumstances, it seems this partnership was...inevitable."

Matrix gasped as he lay on the ground, trying to get his bearings back. In all of his travels, he'd encountered very few beings that could out muscle him in a brawl like that one. The Cyberdemon had certainly earned it's place on a very small list.

Reminiscing over how rare such an occasion was didn't make this particular one any better. The Cyberdemon had stomped the sprite's chest so hard that he felt his bones crack and was sure a few organs had ruptured. He became somewhat delerious, yet instead of his life flashing before his eyes he merely recalled the past few hours. He didn't see this friends or family in his visions, but instead his freshly minted teammates.

Slowly, Matrix began to sit up. Just breathing hurt severely, as he could feel his shattered bones moving around in his chest. Each breath was a chore in itself, taking most of his focus just to to complete the basic function he'd never really thought about. Clutching his chest, Matrix made it to his feet.

"Are you a Guardian?"

"No! I claimed these from another. I've been sent here by Tuecer, same as you."

"I didn't mean like these monsters. My programming is identifying you as a Guardian. A real one. You know, mend and defend?"

"I don't know anything about that. I am a soldier navi, but perhaps I serve a similar function to your Guardians."

Matrix saw the others recovering from the battle, just the same as him. He hadn't taken the only damage. The Cyberdemon had left, and though it moved confidently and angrily there was no mistaking that it retreated. That could only mean that it was hurting, too, and did not want to continue the fight. The fact that it hadn't finished them off was a blessing in more ways than one.

"It went that way," Matrix's deep voice sounded much less powerful, given his bashed in chest.

"Can everyone move?" Colonel addressed the more immediate issue. They would be no good in a second fight if they couldn't get to the fight.

"More or less," Ryner's tone wasn't terribly convincing, either.

"It can't be allowed to escape," Smith's tone impressed Matrix, to an extent. He wouldn't admit it, but he wasn't sure how that virus could sound so close.

Then again, maybe this was their opportunity to escape. Matrix coughed, and spat a glob of blood on the ground before him. As nice as it sounded to get out of here, where was he supposed to go? They were committed to prying that sword from the beast's clutches, however difficult that might be.

"What is it?"

"Cyberdemon. Threat level...it's giving a feedback error. Off the charts."

"You sure this is the best idea?"

"We have no choice. We must take that relic...if we ever intend to leave."

Matrix stood up as straight as he could. There was no quick fix to this level of damage. He would only be able to mitigate the pain enough to still function. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd fight like this, but there was little other choice.

He clenched a fist and gritted his teeth. Defeat wasn't a concept Matrix accepted, not after he'd let people down once before. His golden eye emitted a red light as he began to walk in the direction of the Cyberdemon, and even though the monster was nowhere around to hear his words, it didn't stop him from challenging it aloud.

"I'm not done with you, yet."

[Schwi Dola]

Before the Fight

Things were happening fast. Soon enough Desco was awake again. While the others might be bothered by relics being found and the very land being torn asunder, Desco was getting breakfast by stretching out her tentacles into the air and stabbing birds flying overhead. The wildlife around here was spooked by everything that was going on. They were usually the first to notice natural disasters but this was not natural which made them all the more crazy. Still, it made fishing them out of the sky easy!

Ururu helped Desco prepare and cook them up over the campfire, sharing them with the others. Maybe not not the best meal or the most filling but they needed to keep their strength up. Then Dante up and listened to Spirit and started to wander off. Desco wanted to go too, but she was more curious than anything about this new voice in the sky. She stepped over to Ururu. "Ururu? Desco is going to go too..." But she was already absorbed in a book having been fed up with talking to Dante. So Desco hurried after Dante.

She kept hurrying after Dante. Not because she didn't catch up with him but because his walking speed was far too fast for her. He noticed she was there of course, but it took him a bit to cool off and decide to slow down a bit so Desco could walk alongside him. "Desco wants to fight a God! Big Bro wants Desco to help him destroy the God, Ruler and Creator of everything!" "Is that so..." Desco eagerly nodded. "Yes! God failed to do his duty by letting Earth fall into disarray and instead of fixing it, God just tried to destroy Earth! That doesn't seem like a very good thing that God should be doing right?" "I suppose not."

Desco described a few more other random details about her universe but soon enough they were here, and so were a bunch of other people. Desco wasn't sure what to do, she hadn't expected a crowd to be here waiting for this guy to show up. So she waited on the outside of the group, wondering what kind of person this voice was going to turn out to be.

After the fight.

Everything was a little hazy when Desco regained herself, holding the Relic that Loki had given her. She just stared blankly at it for a while, until suddenly someone touched her shoulder. Ow, that hurt. The touch didn't hurt so much as it reminded her that her shoulders were throbbing. The teeth of that giant monsters that Link had summoned had sank pretty hard on them. Fortunately the Final Boss's demonic skin was no so easily pierced however the crushing blows left her sore all over.

"Come on, before the others decide to attack." Desco nodded and Dante led her off away from the battlefield. Fortunately they too were still reeling from the haze of Loki's magic and battle injuries. Soon enough they were on their own again heading back to camp. Desco took her prize and equipped them. As a pair of greaves, they fit right onto the main part of her boots.

Suddenly Desco felt lighter. Like she could fly, though she still could not quite do that. She ran circles around Dante, "Look look at how fast Desco is now!", while he coughed blood into his hand and inspected the injury and metal stuck into his shoulder. Obviously it was not such a good idea to pull out the object right now. First Aid 101 was to leave objects in because pulling them out would cause massive bleeding. But there was no hospital coming and he had no reason to think these two little girls were doctors. He ripped off two strips of his jacket and a piece of his shirt. The leather would hold it in place and the cloth would absorb the blood to change out as needed. Then Dante ripped out the metal quickly dressing the would and used the remaining strip from his jacket to apply heavy pressure to the area like a tourniquet, only he wasn't trying to lose an arm here.

Desco stopped playing with her new speed to watch as Dante performed emergency first aid. Then she looked down at the relic she had just got. That looked like it might fit. So she pulled off the greaves and tried to hand one to Dante. "Maybe you could put this on that? Maybe it'll speed up the healing!" "No, thanks but I don't think that would help Desco." "Well you can have it anyway!" Dante skipped a beat for a moment. "Didn't you want 'more power'?" Desco started to shrug, but she quickly stopped as the sharp pain came back. She had forgotten about that already. "Desco is a Final Boss! Desco's attacks can be fast but Desco is not supposed to be fast. Its Desco's weakness as a Final Boss! She wants a more useful power."

[Mickey Mouse]

“Choose.”

The mouse looked down at his feet. He stood on a platform of pure stained glass; the colors arranged to form a large mural of himself dressed in Blues’ armor. The friend the mouse had never met, staring back up at him. Of course, it was only a picture.

Three golden pedestals rose from the floor, each holding a different item. Teucer’s shield hovered just above the one directly across from him; to his right, the earrings that allowed him the power to combine his body with another’s; and to his left, a sword inscribed with glowing, red runes.

Gilgamesh’s sword, the mouse recalled. The memory was hazy—as were all memories of his time as the Proto Mouse—but he recognized it distinctly. For a few moments, he could not help but stare at it intently. An intense light pulsed from the runes, tempting him with the power that it held inside its blade. He didn’t notice until he’d reached it, but ever so slowly, it pulled him closer, drawing him near with the promise of power.

A gloved hand reached out, and Mickey Mouse’s fingers wrapped around the sword’s hilt. A flash of a memory rushed back to him. Death. Destruction. Violence. A city crumbled around him as he stared the golden-armored tyrant in the eyes.

Scores of insults echoed throughout the room, all in the uncomfortably silky sound of Gilgamesh’s disembodied voice. The mouse recoiled from Ea, taking a few steps back and almost tripping over himself. His gaze returned to the sword, but he didn’t dare take any steps toward it again. The pair did not fit—he and it. The blade commanded too much of a power Mickey wasn’t familiar with; and based on the feeling churning in his stomach now, he didn’t want to be familiar with it, either.

“Choose,” the voice rang out again.

Mickey spun around to look at the Potara Earrings. Thus far, he’d only used them to merge his form with that of his friend, Blues, but the mouse had to wonder: could they be utilized to fuse with anybody? Certainly, he and the preteen machine were compatible in more than just power; centrally, they shared an ideology that had made its way into Proto Mouse’s sensibilities.

But the idea of fusing with Proto Man again brought fear to the mouse. Before, it had been on a whim. And his powers had been used to depose a king and become an accessory to debilitating an entire community. Proto Mouse may not have felt any guilt about that, but Mickey looked back on the foggy memories with disdain for his ignorance. His more powerful alter-ego had a fatal flaw—though he sought to do good, and had nearly implausible power with which he could do so, his arrogance blinded him to the consequences of his actions.

Why had he fought against the tyrant? Certainly, the man was no good. Mickey had watched him murder Erza in cold blood during Dante’s Abyss—but could not he have settled this man’s crimes another way? Did he really need to banish him to… well, who even knew where?

The idea that he had been responsible for wiping this man off the face of the Omniverse forever did not sit well with Mickey Mouse. He only hoped one day he could reconcile with him and wash away his guilt. Gilgamesh deserved to pay for his crimes, but the mouse could not help but feel that maybe, just maybe, his heightened identity had taken it a step too far. Perhaps one day he would be able to find an answer to this quandary—but until then, he could only hope to do as much good as he could to make up for it.

It felt almost like sacrificing his selfishness for the sake of another’s mistakes. But deep down, the mouse knew that Proto Mouse wouldn’t be without him.

The first step in repaying his debt was saving Teucer’s life. He could at least do that.

He grabbed the shield, and the world washed away.

* * *

By the time Mickey awoke from his dream, his companions had already been up for several hours.

Noontime neared. The sun would hit its highest point in the sky in a matter of hours. The group needed to pack up and head out very soon; Belle and Proto Man seemed well on their way to this goal by the time the mouse rejoined them. Blues took stock of their inventory, while Belle stood farther away, her gaze trained out onto the horizon.

“Good morning, Mickey,” Blues waved from the spot where he had piled up all of their stuff. Well, except the earrings. Mickey kept those snugly in his shorts pocket.

“Morning, Blues,” the former King smiled. He glanced over at all of the things piled up on the ground. Okay, there weren’t that many, but certainly they were better off than they’d been yesterday morning. Mickey fingered the Potaras in his pocket. “Hey, uh… Blues?” he squeaked meekly, stepping closer to the preteen machine. Proto Man looked up from his chore and met the mouse’s eyes.

“Yea?”

“I, uh… maybe we should let Proto Mouse rest for a while,” he offered nervously. They’d never really had a chance to talk about it—just after they’d unfused the first time, they had been sucked into this ordeal, and Mickey hadn’t been brave enough to mention it until this moment.

Proto Man’s eyes widened up just a little bit. He looked a bit puzzled, like he didn’t know what to say. Maybe he didn’t know how he felt. Maybe he hadn’t really thought about it until this moment.

All the mouse knew was that he didn’t understand their fused alter-ego and until he did, he felt that unleashing the beast might end up being too risky.

Who could tell what the thing was going to do?

Hesitation laced Blues’ voice, but finally, he replied. “Yea,” he nodded, “Okay, sure.”

The keyblade wielder nodded, and a reluctant smile crossed his face as he turned to look at Belle, still ever pensive a few yards away.

Mickey strode up to her, standing just a few feet behind. “Something on your mind?”

“Still just thinking about yesterday,” she responded, unstartled by his sudden appearance. She glanced over her shoulder. “I… have a lot of questions.”

“I bet,” he agreed, sidling up next to her. “Lemme tell ya though, pal, this place doesn’t give many answers.” Belle huffed, crossing her arms and turning back to look at the forest. For a few moments, no words passed between the two of them.

“Just yesterday, mountains were right there,” she finally said, incredulously.

Mickey didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t explain the phenomenon they’d witnessed the night before—the island literally ripping itself apart before their very eyes. But he could explain what it meant: they had to complete their goal, and fast.

“You think anyone else has found one of these things?” Blues wondered loudly from where the campfire had been. The mouse and the redhead turned to see him examining the shield, then they headed back towards where the main part of their campsite had been.

“Hard to say,” Mickey shrugged.

“But I guess we’ll find out,” Belle tacked on.

Blues pursed his lips, then held the shield out for Mickey. The mouse grabbed it and slung it on his back, then reached into his back pocket and pulled Play, Boy out. Many pages had been sacrificed for the fire last night. Most had been superfluous, to be sure, but the mouse still got a little irritated thinking about it. “Okay, so this implies that there’s some sort of water source on the island that will give us an advantage. Maybe if we bathe in it or something. Or, well, at least Belle.”

Blues and Belle shared a look, and then, in unison: “…what?”

“Look,” Mickey said, holding the page up. “The goal is to get her wet! That’s the ticket to victory!”

[Kakashi Hatake]

“Hey, Kakashi,”

The silver-haired shinobi’s eyelids flitted open, his pupils quickly shrinking as he struggled to focus on the blurry silhouette of his mentor standing over him. The grove in which he lay was bathed in an early morning glow, giving the blonde Kage an otherworldly quality. He blinked quickly in an attempt to banish the fatigue from his senses.

“We should probably get moving,” Minato asserted. “Based on what happened last time we encountered someone, we’re apt to be attacked if we stay put.”

Kakashi nodded in understanding, rising to his feet from his seat against a sturdy oak. The ninja duo had made camp for the night, choosing a sheltered grove just a few meters from a trickling brook to entrench for the evening. They had taken shifts keeping watch and making the occasional assay into the woods to ensure they were not being stalked, while the other slept. Though it was not the most restful arrangement, the twosome benefited from the mutual support. Kakashi grabbed up his futuristic firearm, following Minato back into the woods.

“I think the first order of business should be finding some something to eat,” the Fourth suggested, glancing at his companion who nodded readily. “After all, some of us didn’t have dinner last night.”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that,” the sharingan-wielder replied, chuckling weakly. The Kage had been gone so long on his investigation that Kakashi had consumed most of the meager meal before he had returned.

Minato shook his head in response, chuckling softly to himself. “Anyway, keep your eyes peeled for any small game.”

The ANBU captain slowed to a stop, barely listening to Kage’s advice. He had noticed something odd a few meters to his right, just visible through the brush: while the vast majority of the flora in the area seemed remarkably untouched, there stood a single otherwise robust tree, absolutely shredded. The thick trunk had been torn into, chunks of bark and xylem littering the forest floor. The abrasions covered an area of nearly 3 meters up the tree’s height, from around knee-level to well past the shinobi’s head. Whatever had harmed the plant had neglected its peers, leaving the perimeter otherwise unharmed.

“What in the world happened here?” Minato inquired, striding toward the ravaged tree. He placed a palm against the rough bark, inspecting the damage. “Maybe a battle happened here?”

Kakashi shook his head, gesturing to the other trees. “Doubtful. There doesn't seem to be any signs of struggle.”

The blonde Kage cocked his head, glancing up and down at the mangled trunk. “You don’t think...maybe a Guardian?”

The silver-haired Prime paused, considering the notion. He had little idea what the Guardians of this island looked like, let alone what kind of power they possessed. If however something was capable of wrecking the plantlife in this manner, they were to be approached with caution.“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said finally, half-shrugging.

“Well, it seems like whatever it is, we should look into,” the fair-haired shinobi asserted, nodding in affirmation. “If it happens to be another Champion, maybe we can ally with them.”

Kakashi nodded, averting his gaze. He thought back to the scuffle they had had earlier, of attacking the knife-wielding blonde. Perhaps he was being too hard on himself for the error, but in a situation like this, caution was always the correct choice.

“There seem to be some tracks here…” Minato muttered, trailing off. He squatted below a low-hanging bow, digging through the leaves and various detritus. “I can’t really make anything out, but whatever it is seems to lead this way. You’ve done some tracking in ANBU, right?”

The scarecrow nodded, kneeling beside the Kage. “You’re right. These are definitely some kind of tracks. Not very fresh, but we can follow them.”

“You lead the way,” the blonde shinobi suggested, clapping a hand on the former Captain’s shoulder. “It’s sad to say that though I am a sensor-type, the magic on this Island dampens my abilities significantly. We’ll have to rely on old-fashioned techniques.”

The silver-haired shinobi nodded. He knew the feeling well; his sharingan had been effectively deactivated upon arrival. His mentor was correct, though; his special ops training was quite well suited for tracking their mark. “Alright, let’s go.”