The Scramble [Complete]

[Violet]

She was largely ignored by the growing crowd, something that both pleased and annoyed her. She hated being a focal point, but for the situation they were in, she wouldn’t mind being an interim “chieftain” that they needed. The only thing was, even a chieftain needed to know what the hell he or she was facing, and fuck all if she didn’t know a thing about her surroundings nor the strange creatures that kept popping up like mushrooms after a spring rain. She counted nine, including herself, and expected more to come.

The giant humanoid, with his olive colored skin, bright, fiery hair, and strange eyes, responded to her plea with nary a grunt and a piercing stare. His mouth twitched as he prepared to respond, but a voice cut him off, and Garona’s attention turned towards her.

The blonde was tall, but just slightly less taller than she. She had eyes the color of the ocean, and skin so pale, it was as if moonlight were trapped beneath her flesh. Her body was slight, making Garona wonder if she’d survive a battle should it ever come down to it. Surely not, she thought. Someone that tiny would be simply a blockade between more ample warriors, perhaps even a hindrance. Someone that small would have been shunned from the tribe, although not altogether banished. There would always be something for even the most frail member of the tribe to do that would contribute to their preservation, regardless of size or infirmity.

Garona’s gaze drew upward to her pale tresses. Her hair reminded the Orc of sun-bleached straw, but appeared to be as soft as a newborn talbuk calf’s fur. It glistened in the ambient light, capturing and reflecting strands of the purest gold and the brightest of whites. Garona grunted and furrowed her brow, wanting to disguise her ping of jealousy. Garona’s hair was as black as a raven’s wing, and just as soft, but a few times in her life, she’d wondered what it would be like to have something different…to be different. The closest she’d ever come was imitating the image of another being, but the illusion never lasted for long. It was never good enough, but it was all she could do.

“If you didn’t know already, I think we’re being watched;” the flaxen beauty pointed towards a distant location, where two tiny pinpricks which Garona could only assume were people, stood. “Over there, too.”

Garona’s eyes followed the direction of her finger, her spine straightening as her hands rested anxiously on the pummels of her weapons. Before she could respond, two other women also took notice. “Who are they?” one asked, turning towards the human who called herself Eighteen. Strange name. “I think we should talk to them!”

“Do we know why they’re here?” The third woman asked. This one had dark hair, like Garona’s, that fell down her back in silken waves. Her skin was the color of tanned leathers, and seemed to be just as soft. Her eyes were red, much like her own when she was at her most irritated, except these seemed to be permanent. It was strange, and made her slightly apprehensive. Eyes that color were only found on the most dangerous of creatures, and although her slight appearance was barely worth being on guard for, Garona had to remind herself that appearances were not always honest. “Or, more to the point,” her cherry eyes flicked to the blonde, “what they want from us?”

Garona took the opportunity to step in, her eyes travelling from one woman to the other. “Perhaps they are like us;” Garona mused. “There could be another portal. I think we should be cautious.” As cautious as I am of all of you, Garona thought to herself. Her hands moved from her weapons to rest on the wide flare of her leather-clad hips. “Should we investigate them?”

Eighteen’s brows drew together as a thought moved behind her eyes. “That’s possible,” she murmured. “But unlikely. Why would they appear over there instead of here with the rest of us?”

“Yeah, why all the way over there?” Nyx replied, her arms crossing over her ample chest.

“It doesn’t seem right at all,” Whirda said, her gaze fixated on the figures in the distance.

“Someone has to go check it out,” Eighteen’s attention came to rest on Garona, as if expecting her to volunteer.

“We’re all weakened. If they attack, we will not be able to defend ourselves for long,” Garona stated. “It’s a foolish idea.”

“If you go alone, perhaps;” the blonde looked back towards the figures. “But if a group of us goes over, outnumbering them, we could defend ourselves properly.”

“How far away do you think they are?” Nyx asked.

“I have no idea,” Garona replied. “What if they’re the ones that brought us here? If so, we could be walking straight to our deaths.”

“To which we would respawn, as Omni insinuated,” Ganondorf, as he had introduced himself, said as he approached. “Even if you were to die, it would only be temporary. I wouldn’t want to be the first one to test that theory out, though.” He chuckled.

She was fearful, but she wasn’t a coward. No one who knew her would ever accuse her of that. But, as Garona weighed the decision in her mind, she wondered if stepping back from the situation would be considered such. Yes… a voice in the back of her head admonished. These fools don’t have the balls to do it themselves. This is your chance to prove yourself a capable leader to these creatures. If none step forward, then it should be you. The lesser creatures respect those who take initiative. Garona couldn’t help but agree with the logic.

“I’ll go. Alone.” She announced, her face a mask of determination and bravery, even if her muscles felt heavy from fear. She would go regardless. And if she failed, then so be it.

[Proto Man]

They were ignoring him.

It appeared that the hodgepodge of mostly human-looking individuals was too busy being caught up in the situation to pay much attention to Proto Man, who was content to lean against the fountain, his armaments at the ready incase anything happened. As he stood there, he scoped the crowd, and his HUD processed the various individuals. For what it was worth, no one seemed too out of the ordinary, at least to the point where the robot felt unnerved. There was a green human with an angry face and jagged teeth, and on the opposite end of the spectrum was another human in a metal suit.

Proto Man watched as a brunette with a stick said some things that went unheeded by the rest of the group, which seemed to be concerning itself more with events on the periphery. From eavesdropping, the android knew they were debating amongst themselves whether or not to investigate individuals they had noticed on the horizon. It seemed like the green woman was trying to assume the role of alpha dog, which would undoubtedly put her at odds with someone.

Common behavior. The android noted as he observed how suspicious a lot of them looked. It was times like this where he was glad he didn’t have the guise of someone older, because then he’d be obligated to insert himself into awkward social situations like these. Human adults were constantly vying to subjugate their peers, whether physically, socially, or academically, and even in what appeared to be a strange new world, the same tropes were materializing before the red robot’s eyes.

“What are you thinking?”

Proto Man turned his visor-covered eyes toward the sound of the voice. They came from the woman who had formed a staff around her floating red ball. If he had to guess, he would have said she was probably around her late twenties, judging from her physique and her face. Then again, she could easily be a two-year-old robot masquerading as a young adult for all he knew. Despite repeated attempts to reboot the system, the scanners were only giving him superficial information.

“Are you going to talk?” She repeated, which indicated that he couldn’t drive her away with silence. The smile she wore on her face seemed to show that she was genuine in her effort to interact with him.

“They’re ignoring that other group,” Proto Man said, gesturing with his thumb toward another set of dots on the horizon. The woman (or did she still qualify as a girl?) followed his digit and nodded as if she was already aware of the slowly approaching precence.

“I’m Nanoha Takamachi…who are you?”

The red robot furrowed his brow—a pointless gesture since he was the only one who knew he was making it. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked him who he was…that little girl in New York, perhaps? Before that particular memory could distract him, he flashed the closest thing to a smile he could muster. “I’m Proto Man.”

He watched as she twisted up her lip and furrowed her own brow. “That’s a pretty weird name.”

“Then call me Blues, it doesn’t really matter to me either way.” He suppressed a scowl, realizing that he probably shouldn’t alienate himself toward the only person who had acknowledged his existence in Fountain Land. When he spoke again, it was with a far less terse tone. “But seriously, it’s your call, my fathers had their preferences, and either of them are preferable to DLN Zero.”

[Ganondorf]

Ganondorf could barely contain his mirth as he watched that green-skinned woman make her way across the monochrome landscape. A sly grin still escaped his control as he thought about how well that had gone for him. Confident, arrogant and stupid, that’s how he liked the people around him. In that combination, they became like putty in Ganon’s hands. All it took was a single comment from him, coupled with the blonde woman’s, Eighteen?, observation about the watchers. He could see, as no one moved to take command, the light shine in that woman’s eyes as she said she would go alone. Yes… she would be an easy one.

Casting a glance back at the now swelled group, his grin slid away. It was doubtful any of the others would be so easy to control. Surprisingly enough, Link might be even easier than that woman to manipulate. The boy was just so predictable. The others, however… their motivations were less clear to Ganondorf’s trained eye. Additionally, and disturbingly, they had begun to group together.

The three women that Garona had been speaking to were still quietly conversing as they watched her leave and the woman with the staff was currently engaging the strange looking newcomer in conversation. Separately, they’d be as easy to govern as newborn children. But danger and rebellion started with friends and allies. Perhaps it was time for Ganondorf to make some, and he shuddered to even think the word, friends.

As he moved, the Gerudo King spared a glance for the fountain. Strangely, it appeared different than when he had first arrived. For an instant, he couldn’t put a finger on it, but then it became obvious. The fountain was changing; parts of it looking more like stone than the metal Ganondorf remembered from his awakening, and the water had a definite dark tinge to it. It was a worrisome change, and one that had Ganondorf frozen in his tracks for a brief moment before he shook it off. The changes in the fountain just made it all the more imperative that he make these people believe they needed him.

Continuing on his previous path, Ganondorf moved to pat Link on the shoulder. Of course, the lithe Hylian moved before he could make contact, eliciting a smile from the taller man.

“You shouldn’t look so nervous, boy. That sort of thing can be contagious.”

Link’s retort was, of course, predictable, “I’m not nervous. I just don’t trust you, Ganon!”

Ganondorf sighed softly, ruefully shaking his head, “Understandable, yet regrettable. Perhaps one day you’ll be able to move past your prejudices and we’ll be able to live in peace. However, I’ve no wish to antagonize you further. I’ll leave you be, boy.”

Shaking his head again, Ganon turned from Link, confident that his seed will sprout, and sooner rather than later. And then his truest enemy will become his staunchest ally. It was nearly enough to crack Ganondorf’s calm façade with the irony of it all. All he need do now was get these others to fall in line with him as well, and this Omniverse was as good as his.

[Samus Aran]

The newcomers continued to appear out of nowhere. Following the green alien were two who looked almost human, but with pointed ears. The first’s demeanour reminded Samus of a used spaceship salesman, and the latter of the typical hot-headed, pure-hearted hero from the children’s cartoons that she watched sometimes (purely out of curiosity). There was a woman with dark hair, wearing the kind of clothing that made the green-skinned woman’s armor look useful. There was a decidedly flashy woman wielding kukri. Then a man who wore a helmet clad with sunglasses, despite there being no sun to shield his eyes from. A lady with blonde hair who actually looked remarkably like Samus without all the metal and technology. And finally, a shorter woman with brown hair, who had a serenity about her that Samus found somehow unnerving.

With no better course of action presenting itself, Samus’s default decision was to simply watch. She certainly wasn’t getting bored, not yet. If someone had indeed designed this ‘game’, they’d put a lot of effort into it. It was becoming increasingly obvious that this was no space pirate prank. While Samus refused to eliminate the idea that there was not some deception behind all of this impossibility, she could neither eliminate from her mind the possibility that somehow this was all really happening. But she wouldn’t believe it until she had something more substantial to go on.

Samus was interested by the ‘revelation’ that others were watching them. She’d assumed as much, but had been too distracted by the events at the fountain to notice them on the horizon. Small shapes, but definitely animated. She had a feeling they’d be meeting up-close before long.

In the midst of this, the brown-haired woman suddenly did something rather alarming. Her clothes vanished, and in a flourish of light they were replaced; first with a jacket, then a dress, and a cape. As rods of metal materialized out of nowhere and slotted around the gem which had previously floated around the woman’s head, Samus felt a twang of something despite herself. The completed device landed in its owners hand. It were as though someone had wondered what a stereotypical wizard’s staff would look like if it were metal and belonged to a tech-savvy young lady rather than a wrinkled old crone. As the magnificent process came to a close, Samus identified her previous emotion: jealousy.

The hunter shook herself off. There was no reason to envy a more time-consuming process of transformation. Its flashy nature only served to hinder the user’s ability to react to a sudden combat situation. It was cool, but that was all.

But the performance had reminded Samus of something: omnilium. That silhouette had given her some. Just as soon as the question arose in her mind ‘where is it?’ the answer was there. She had it, part of herself, and summoning it was merely a process of thinking about it. She held out her hand and there it was, shimmering in every colour.

Checking her current power suit’s functions was almost a formality at this point. She’d done it shortly after meeting the green-skinned alien, and it had confirmed that, other than her power suit’s basic functionality and arm cannon, her only remaining upgrade was the charge beam. But if what Omni had said was true, that would soon change.

To start with, something not too big. But something she could use straight away. Samus’s mind immediately went to her grapple beam. A tether of light, fired from the hand, which could attach to almost any object. It had a variety of uses. More than adequate for her first test of omnilium. The hunter closed her hand, and began to visualize. She felt the process begin almost immediately. She could feel the omnilium, shaped by her memories, her imagination. Whatever technology this was, it was light years beyond anything the Federation had ever accomplished. This was like … Samus hesitated to even form the word in her mind … magic.

“What are you doing?”

Samus’s eyes flicked to the owner of the voice. It was the young man clad in green, his gaze fixed on her power suit. No surprise – it was glowing those same colours of the omnilium, as though it had become a liquid and were flowing across the metal, forging it anew.

“Concentrating,” replied Samus. “Just wait.” Somehow she knew it would take time, like she knew up from down or right from wrong. Some of the others had glanced her way, but most were focused on the discussion of what to do in regards to their distance admirers.

Several minutes passed, during which time one of the group had made the decision to leave alone. Finally, Samus felt the process complete. The rainbow glow faded. Samus checked her suit’s HUD.

GRAPPLE BEAM ACQUIRED

She raised up her left hand and looked at the fountain. Darker now, much bigger. She focused on one of the protruding, jagged spokes and threw her hand out towards it, curling her hand just so in a grabbing motion.

The effect was immediate. A blue beam shot out of the back of her hand, buzzing as it snaked through the air and attached to the spoke. She felt it catch, and tugged, the beam contracting in unison with her arm. Solid. She uncurled her fingers and the beam dissipated into nothingness.

The other stared at her. Samus shrugged. “Gotta be ready, right?”

[Ganondorf]

So wrapped up in self-satisfaction was Ganondorf, that it wasn’t until a sudden flash of light moved right through his field of vision that he was even aware that some of the others were testing Omni’s claims. That was foolish of him. He’d fallen previously due to arrogance and self-admiration, and Ganondorf could not afford to be distracted.

As the light retracted, moving in a ropelike fashion into the back of the female-knight’s gauntlet, the Gerudo king was forced to reevaluate the woman. That ability appeared to be some sort of magic, yet at the same time… not. A most peculiar situation and Ganondorf had to wonder if any of these others had similar abilities. This thought, of course, led him to notice the change in the outfit of the woman talking to the third male of their small party. She definitely looked different than before. Ganon had to shake his head at his own foolishness. It was unlike him to overlook such crucial details. He’d have to be more careful in the future.

Moving up to the female in the suit of armor, Ganondorf made yet another elegant bow, cape flourished grandly in his left hand and bent parallel to the ground with his right laid over his heart. “A remarkable display, my Lady-“

Cold blue eyes regarded Ganondorf as he was curtly cut off, “Samus. Samus Aran.”

Those same eyes shifted ever so slightly away from his gaze as she continued, “No one calls me Lady...”

There could be something to exploit in that subtle sign of unease and that slight pause at the end of that, but Ganondorf let it rest for now. There would be plenty of time for manipulation once he was able to read into her more clearly. “I meant no disrespect, Ms. Aran,” he replied, rising back to his full height and looking down at Samus. “I was raised to address all women as ladies. But, I shall respect your wishes. I apologize for any hard feelings, Madam.”

[Thaal Sinestro]

Fear. Thall Sinestro knew fear.

The sound of the rushing water slowly entered his consciousness, the void of Omni’s presence slowly being filled with the bleary reality that surrounded him. The noise pounded all around him, muffled and indistinct.

What is fear without death?

His eyes opened, blackness being strangled out by the blinding white that surrounded him in every direction. He felt the cool liquid lapping against his red skin, the spray of the fountain raining down in a continual stream. Finally he remembered to breathe and his lungs sucked in the stale, flavorless air.

The prophecy was at an end. Death’s forces were all but obliterated, the power of the black rings purified by the sterling light of the White Lantern.

The Korugaran’s finger’s twitched, every ounce of his effort funneled into making a fist. His body was slow, difficult to move, as if he was awaking from a deep sleep. As if he was waking up from a wonderful dream.

Nekron was at his mercy, brilliant chains of pure Life choked the essence from the avatar of the Black Lanterns. The last great enemy of the universe was helpless, defeated.

His broad palm reached up, grasping one of the long, dark spikes that protruded from the side of the water feature. Lean muscles strained as he drug himself to his feet, water rushing off of his exposed body.

Sinestro had plunged his hand into the chest of Death, and tore out its black, unbeating heart as it howled in agony. Thaal Sinestro had become The Greatest Lantern.

Water dribbled off of the alien’s naked body as he leaned against a massive spoke, heaving. His eyes, their natural color for the first time in years, searched wildly as he attempted to absorb everything that was happening around him. His heart pounded in his ears, his hands trembled.

Thall Sinestro had killed Death. What was left to fear?

Frantically, he attempted to remember the words of the being he had spoken to. All that it would require was will. He had been one of the Green Lantern’s finest warriors. Sinestro understood will. He excelled at it. “Just think of what you desire most.” It should be a simple task.

He clenched his fist and held it in front of himself. Closing his eyes, he focused, blocking out the world as he had been trained to do so very long ago.

A massive wave of feedback surged through his body and mind, reality itself rejecting his demand. He staggered back, splashing in the water and holding his head. Again he held his fist in front of him, face twisted into a snarl. Again, he was wracked with agony. No shimmer of light, no flash, nothing.

“No,” he uttered between gritting teeth.

Loss. The agony of losing all that you had become. That’s what was left.

“No!” he snapped, the heads of the others that surrounded the fountain finally turning towards him. Their judging eyes drove into him, this mad, nude alien. He didn’t care.

Again he held his hand out, grasping his wrist with the other. Snarling, he willed the ring into his hand, he could practically see it. All he had to do was want it enough.

The pain rushed up through him, rattling in his skull and his teeth. His eyes spread open wide, and he pushed harder. The pain grew. Again, harder. Pressure swelled in his skull so angrily it threated to split the sutures. He refused to let go of the image. Dark purple blood began to leak from his nose, the reverberations of the rejection physically forcing him to shudder. His ears began to whine, every one of his body’s veins protruding out with strain. Still he would not let go.

The now blurred figures began to surround him, the ringing drowning out any words they might have attempted. Further and further he willed it, the delicate vessels in his sclera rupturing, whites of his eyes slowly turning purple. A thin trail of blood now trickled from his ear, dripping from the angle of his jaw.

“I AM THE GREATEST LANTERN!” he screamed at the peak of his voice, the image of his Power Ring searing in his mind’s eye.

Nothing.

He crumbled to his knees, gasping for breath, little drops of violet mixing with the increasingly dark water around him.

Fear. Thall Sinestro knew fear.

[Samus Aran]

The dark-skinned man hadn’t intended it, but his words had stung Samus. “No one calls me lady”, she’d said. Of course, that had been a lie.

“It’s fine,” she said. She couldn’t tell if Ganondorf was genuinely the pompous gentleman he came across as, or if it was a part he was playing. In any event, it was better to assume the former.

The man’s eyes glimmered with relief. “If you don’t mind me asking, what was that you used just then?” He looked up and down the suit with a smile of polite interest, and then waved his hands as his smile cracked into embarrassment. “Truth be told, I’ve never seen anything like it before. Like … your ...” He looked hesitant, as though afraid to offend. “Suit?”

“Suit,” Samus reassured. “Actually, it’s one of a kind. The race who made it all died out.”

“Incredible,” said Ganondorf. “Were they great sorcerors?”

“Of a kind,” said Samus. “We would call this technology, not magic. I suppose in some sense, they’re not that different.” She thought back to the brown-haired girl. “But I’m no magician. Just a soldier.”

“I see.” Ganondorf nodded with interest. “You must tell me more of your world’s technology, once we …” he looked around him, raising his palms, “Get out of this … predicament.”

Samus nodded, and turned her body to the side, crossing her arms. If this was a virtual reality, one valid hypothesis was that they would try to make friends with her, extract information she wouldn’t willingly give to her enemies. Such a goal would be fruitless. She had no knowledge of how the suit truly worked besides what she knew instinctively. The secrets of the suit had died with the Chozo.

Why else might they trap her? Knowledge of the Galactic Federation? It was true that she knew a lot of things about them that most people didn’t. But if that was the case, why go through all the trouble to kidnap the galaxy’s most well-armed and dangerous bounty hunter, when they could kidnap some politician or scientist? There were a thousand possible explanations, of course. Samus could mull them all over. But right now, her best way of finding more out was to play the game. Do what they wanted. See what they wanted. And then figure out what to do next.

[Ganondorf]

This Samus still distrusted Ganondorf, her body language and guarded speech made that obvious to his trained eye. Still, he had broken past her initial defenses, so perhaps there was hope after all. One day, this woman would use her power in his service, her “technology”. It was truly a remarkable thing she had described, even in brief. With technology, coupled with his magic and strength, no one would be able to stop him. Nothing would be able to; not even that accursed Master Sword. Ganon would be all powerful and the world would kneel to his greatness.

“I AM THE GREATEST LANTERN!”

The scream shook Ganon from his internal musings and he immediately looked to its source. A strangely colored, and nude, man was apparently the source, the others beginning to gather around the man as he knelt crumpled by the fountain. There was something in that scream that had resonated with Ganondorf. He knew that timbre well, though it was doubtful any of the others would understand. It was the sound of someone who had once had everything, only to have it stripped away before his very eyes. The Gerudo knew all too well how that felt, his bane being nearby as a constant jab into Ganon’s pride. This man was a kindred soul… and perhaps an ally Ganon could use.

Moving forward, Ganondorf unclasped his cloak while waving the others away. Taking a knee beside the purple-skinned man and draping his cloak over him, the tall man asked for his fellows to give them some space. “Please, give us some room, if you would.”

Link, obviously stayed somewhat close, but the others didn’t move too far either. No matter. Ganondorf wasn’t some rube to make everyone aware of his plans through an errant word. And besides, there were few things this man seemed able to discuss in any case.

“Hello there, newcomer.”

His reply was a unintelligible mutter from the man who had yet to even notice that he had been covered.

“I’m Ganondorf, Gerudo King,” the tall man said carefull, so he wouldn’t rile Link up again, “By what name are you known?”

Another soft mutter and Ganondorf had had enough. Anger boiled to the surface as he shook the smaller man. “Your name!”

Throwing Ganondorf’s hands and cloak off of him, the purple-skinned being met his green eyes with a baleful stare. “I am Sinestro! And I am the greatest lantern!”

“I will not be sullied by the touch of one like yourself,” he continued with a sneer as Ganondorf retrieved his cloak from the wet ground. Remarkably, it wasn’t soiled.

“You needn’t worry about that again, my friend. But I would suggest you create some clothing for yourself. Unless of course, in your culture it is acceptable to be nude in front of women. I assure you, it isn’t in mine and I doubt it’s par for the course in anyone else’s.”

The darkening skin around Sinestro’s cheeks could have been a flush of anger… maybe. Ganondorf reattached his cloak and offered a final word of friendly advice, “Just focus on wearing clothing, and some should appear… at least that’s the theory.”

[Thaal Sinestro]

Trembling, the korugaran clenched his fists over the smooth white floor, blood and murky water mingling beneath him. The large man loomed over him as the collection of freaks gawked. Sinestro didn’t need to be told when he was surrounded by superheroes. Or, he supposed, supervillains.

“At least put on some pants…” a blonde, casually dressed woman spoke, her crystal blue eyes squinting in irritation.

A child in bright green clothing, ears pointed like his, glanced down, distrusting. Ganadorf’s eyes darted over his shoulder, sure to catch every flinch of the boy’s movement. Old blood, perhaps.

The plainly robed woman near the back of the group, her eyes burning brighter red than even Atrocitus’, muttered out ”Maybe-”

“Omnilium,” Sinestro spat, cutting her off. Slowly he looked up, scanning the group. “I need more Omnilium.”

He brought himself to stand, a puddle forming around his feet. Several of the group turned away in exasperation, or disgust, as he stared in unfocused wonder at the wide, white world. He idly smoothed over his hair and ran a finger and thumb over his mustache.

“I cannot waste any.” Still, the image of the ring burned in his mind, like a smoldering, yellow poker in his brain. “None.”

Ganondorf stood slightly shorter than Sinestro, but his build was thicker, more powerful. He would make a fine Lantern if that day ever came. The garudo withheld a sneer of agitation, his lips curling only slightly. “Allow me, then.” He held his hand out in front of his body, palms up.. Thaal looked on with curiousity as, slowly, a rainbow swirl of light appears in the cup of Ganon's palm. It was almost like watching invisible hands at work as pieces of clothe appeared and were sewn together as if by master seamstresses. Eventually, a set of feudal era clothing, complete with boots, materialized in Ganondorf's hands. Stepping forward, he offered them to the strange red man.

Sinestro’s brow quirked, he crossed his arms, lifted his nose in the air and stared. His glistening eyes darted between them all, some unknown calculation whirring through his oversized cranium. The seconds drug by as he stood defiantly, his own dried blood smeared all over his face and head, glaring at the offering.

“Thank you,” he said plainly, and took the clothes.

[Violet]

She walked for several minutes before she realized that no one had spoken up or even offered to accompany her. It was okay, though. She was used to going solo; hell, that’s how she preferred it most of the time. However, she couldn’t help but feel the sting of rejection as she glanced over her shoulder to see the ever shrinking figures of those she left behind. It was a bitter pill to swallow as she turned to face the figures in the distance, her face a stony mask of neutrality. She would find a way out of here, she just had to. She would escape alone, and go back to whence she had come. Fuck every single one of these cowards. They didn’t deserve to live.

Her footsteps quickened, her mind drifting as bits and pieces of her memories began to coagulate. She could bring back a pack of peons and dominate them all. But what would be the point? There was nothing here worth dominating. For what seemed to be miles upon miles of empty space surrounded her, the only feature being that magical water spout from which they had spawned.

“Banishment is the only fitting punishment for you, my little puppet…” Garona’s steps faltered as the voice swam through her head. The face that went with it was the same one that had popped up in her thoughts earlier, and finally, a name. Gul’dan. The “warlock” he called himself. What was it that she had done for him to utter those words? He was…he was her chieftain, at least, he was the highest figure in her chain of command. She had done something that had earned her exile from the only family she’d known, and just before he could met it out, her body began to shimmer with a strange, white light. In a matter of seconds, as her frightened eyes met the confused Gul’dan’s, her body disappeared. She didn’t know how long it was between the point in which she disappeared and when she had reappeared in the darkness, where the entity known as “Omni” spoke to her, and then sent her here.

A strange sense of foreboding washed over her. There was no way back, not on her own. The only way back would only be through him…it. Whatever.

She was trapped. They all were.

Grimacing, Garona reached down to her hips and pulled her blades free. She would approach these creatures, disable them, and question them. Once she had the answers she wanted, she would drag them back to the others, and they would be free to do as they pleased with them. The corners of her mouth flicked upwards in a menacing smile. She could cut out their tongues so that only she could give information back to them how she pleased.

Yeah, that sounded good.

[Nanoha Takamachi]

It was painfully obvious that there were limitations to Raising Heart's current Axel Mode. There was, for one thing, a complete lack of cartridge system, and the ACS system's rocket booster hadn't formed over the end of the handle. The interference with regular operating parameters was greater than expected, and Nanoha was now very concerned that her friend was limited to just bare-bones Axel Mode. Perhaps this 'Omnillium' could be used to re-activate the missing functions? It certainly had proved useful as an energy source just now, allowing Raising Heart to full activate Axel Mode without draining any of Nanoha's own mana to do so.

Unknown substance optimised, Axel Mode restored to regular activation capabilities. Substance data stored under 'Omnillium'.

"That'll do nicely, Raising Heart, please continue to run background diagnostics and identify all inaccessible systems."

Understood, master. Background diagnostic initiated.

Until they would have an opportunity to run a full system scan and do some further testing with the Omnillium, this would have to suffice. For now, Nanoha turned her attention back to her fellows. Her transformation seemed to have drawn attention from some, and very little from others. The wild-looking, green skinned, female, the steel-blue eyed blond woman and the two women with darker hair and troubling appearances had continued to talk amongst themselves. As Nanoha looked past them, she watched the giant man with dark skin approach and introduce himself as Ganondorf. After a few more moments, the green creature strode off towards one of the set of figures watching them in the distance.

Having heard very little of the exchange, Nanoha decided to focus on what she could work with here. To her right, away from the gaggle of chatting women, was a boyish looking humanoid. Boyish was a stretch, though, since he appeared to be wearing some sort of metal clothing and helmet, with a large pair of black glasses flush over his eyes. Nanoha hated not being able to see people's eyes, it was often such a ruined opportunity to catch glimpses of their individual beauty through the murky depths hidden within them. They could be quite beautiful, too.

He heart caught in her throat a little at that, thinking of a pair of eyes she most likely wouldn't be seeing tonight as planned. Fate was still back home with Vivio, and the three of them had planned to celebrate Nanoha's return from this training expedition with a dinner down by the coast. The chances of that still happening were getting slimmer every minute she was stuck in this desolate place, and the thought renewed her determination. She would find this Lost Logia, and seal it, and then get the hell out of here and back home. For that, she needed information, Raising Heart at full power, and some allies.

She approached the metal boy, drinking in the subtle red hues of his armour. Or skin. It seemed odd to make a cyborg in the form of something so young and have such a simple design, but the proportions all seemed wrong for it to be a suit of some sort. Only one way to find out, really. Either way, he seemed deep in thought, and she bent down to draw his attention. Since he probably wasn't very old, Nanoha felt comfortable approaching him like this. She was, after all, very used to interacting with children.

"What are you thinking?"

He turned and looked up towards her, face unmoving, and seemed to give her a good look over. She inquired at him again after a few moments, in case he was still too distracted by his inner thoughts to respond. His respond indicated that he, too, had been focused on the activities of the women just a handful of paces away. She introduced herself, of course, and he followed suit. Proto Man, an unusual name, but as he continued it became apparent it was a designated title, rather than his actual name.

"Blues, you say? That's a nice name. I do like that colour." She smiled gentle, and gestured at the blue patterns across her Barrier Jacket. It was true, she did love the colour. "But you say your original name was... DLN Zero? Are you, perhaps, a combat cyborg?"

Blues' face twitched again, like he was trying to form some sort of facial expression with a visage that was mostly just rigid steel. His voice seemed exasperated as he responded, "No. I'm an android; entirely robotic. Nothing even remotely biologically human in here."

A robot with a soul, like a cyborg! Unheard of, as far as Nanoha could remember. While she had met plenty of artificial humans or cybernetic bio-robots in her life, she had never met a pure robot with anything close to a fully realised artificial intelligence like this. Raising Heart, while fully sentient and self-thinking, lacked a more human sort of individuality. Not that it seemed to bother the device at all.

"Well, that's fine. I've met plenty of artificial beings before, so don't worry about shocking me or anything like that. You are, in some ways, much like my daughter Vivio. It's very nice to meet you, Blues, would you like to see if we can get some of the others and actually do more than just stand around here talking? I'm only good at the whole standing-and-talking thing when I'm addressing my recruits, and this place really wouldn't work as a training ground."

Blues made a vague shrug, at least this was a woman of action rather than just someone else trying to rely on him. He pointed at the other figure in the group with a similar appearance to him. "That one seemed awful interested in you just earlier, maybe we can ask her?"

Following the android's gesture, Nanoha strode with purpose towards the tall, yellow and red robot-like figure. The person in question appeared to be testing some sort of equipment- a grapple of some kind- it had likely just created using Omnillium. Nanoha was glad it wasn't only her that was aware of the substance's capabilities. Closing the distance between them, it wasn't difficult to see it was likely another woman. Indeed, by the time Nanoha was close enough to greet her properly she could see the woman's eyes through her helmet's visor. Pretty ones, in fact, and it confirmed Nanoha's first thoughts that this one was most certainly some kind of powered suit. She waited for a moment, as the one who called himself Ganondorf seemed just as interested in the grapple system as the boy with the blond curls of hair beneath a very cute little green cap next to the lady in the suit.

'Hello there! I am Nanoha Takamachi, Major in the Time/Space Administration Bureau, and this is..."

She turned to make sure Blues had followed her, as he introduced himself; "Proto Man."

"Blues." Nanoha corrected. It really was a much nicer name. "Anyway, may I ask who you two are?"

The boy in green gave a very short reply, "Link."

The suited woman seemed on guard, but replied with a noticeable amount of relief in her voice, and was at least more verbose. "Samus Aran. It's nice to meet a fellow solider here. Is your bureau part of the federation? I've never heard of it."

Nanoha flashed her best military smile. She was proud of that one; it avoided being too girly and was genuine as her more cheerful smiles. "It's nice to meet you, Samus. I'm not sure which federation you speak of, as the TSAB is an independent authority. I am starting to believe that we have all been brought him from places very far from each other."

No sooner had she finished speaking, a loud cry was heard from behind her. Samus' face had turned sharply to look at whoever had cried out but a fraction of a second before it was heard.

“I AM THE GREATEST LANTERN!”

Turning quickly, Nanoha saw a naked red-skinned male on the ground, clearly in some measure of distress. On impulse, she went to approach, but felt a tap on her leg before she went to move. Looking back, she saw that Blues had held out a hand to stop her. He shook his head, and pointed at something back in the direction of the newcomer.

"I want to see what he does."

All this sudden turning was going to give her neck pain, and Fate wasn't around to give it a rub. What a bother. Nanoha watched as Ganondorf approached the naked man and threw his cloak over him. The red-skinned man seemed displeased, but after a short while he seemed to have calmed down and accepted a set of clothes from Ganondorf. Nanoha wasn't exactly bothered by the man's nakedness; she'd seen plenty of naked males before and honestly found them rather uninteresting.

Background diagnostic complete. List of online systems transferring...

"Oh! Raising Heart, don't startle me like that." It seemed Nanoha wasn't the only one to jump a tiny bit at the sudden voice emitting from her staff; Blues and Link both stared at the device with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Samus, on the other hand, seemed fascinated.

"Is that an AI?" She inquired, pointing at Raising Heart's core.

"Indeed she is. Please, excuse my manners, I never introduced you. This is Raising Heart, my Intelligent Device, friend and companion."

Nanoha had forgotten she had left Raising Heart activated, being so used to her barrier jacket and the familiar weight in her left hand. With a brief wave of her hand, she dispelled the barrier jacket and set Raising Heart to return to Standby Mode. Her protective gear vanished, leaving her TSAB uniform in view again, and Raising Heart shrunk back down to her usual small gem while sprouting her flyer fin wings. She closed the display that Raising Heart had opened, the list could wait til later.

I am pleased to meet you, Samus, Blues, Link. I hope we can be friends. Please take care of my master, it would be unfortunate if any incidents were to occur.

Raising Heart always had a peculiar brand of humour, "Don't worry about her, she's just being silly. We're not running at full power right now, so she's making up for it with this foolery."

Nanoha sighed a little. Time was marching on, and they were still here. Too many distractions, as much as the pleasantries were nice enough. She looked off into the distance and noted that the small group of figures were still there, watching.

"I have a proposal for you three. I don't know where we are, or what is going on, but I am certain I know the device that is the root cause of all of it. But finding it wont be easy, and sealing it even harder. The first step, though, is to getting away from this... Fountain thing". She gestured at the every-changing structure nearby. "And getting some more information. I'm sure we're all aware we're being watched, so I propose we go and have a talk to these people and see what they have to say. Strength in numbers, even if we don't really know who each other are."

The other three seemed hesitant for a moment, but Nanoha continued, "Look, we're all in the same boat here, even if I don't know you all, and none of you know me, we can at least trust that we all want to find out what is going on, and to try and get back home. A common goal can at least keep us together for a while, right?"

She smiled again, hoping that her gamble wouldn't backfire. She'd really hate to have to make friends in the other, more messy, way.

[Nyx]

A smirk played across Nyx's lips as she surveyed the newcomers. On the surface, they all seemed so different... but at their core, it was clear that they shared the same fear and mistrust of magi as the people she knew back home. Maybe some were more subtle and guarded about their fear than others, but it was there. She could sense it. It reminded her of The Harrowing - how she hadn't known what to expect, what forms the demon would take, how she would be tested. She understood their fear, but it didn't mean she welcomed it. This was potentially one of the only situations Nyx had been in where she felt it would be beneficial to forge an alliance with another. Ordinarily, she would prefer to work alone.

It seemed as though the group was slowly dividing into smaller circles. Nyx liked that. Something she didn't particularly like was Garona volunteering herself to check out one of the scouting groups. Was it really safe for her to go alone? But then, what did it matter? Nobody had forced her to step up, she'd more or less announced that she was going and then strode off. Nyx could have followed, but Garona seemed quite similar to her - the conviction in her voice suggested that she, too, was used to working alone. She probably wouldn't appreciate having a mage accompany her, anyway. Nyx exhaled heavily as she turned her attention back to the group.

The others were beginning to experiment with a strange, shiny substance - she felt as though she knew the name, but she couldn't quite recall it. Omni-something. Omnilium? Holding out her hand, she studied the scar on her palm again. Suddenly, a chunk of Omnilium appeared in her hand. "Huh..." she mused, rolling it around in her hand with some degree of interest. "So, all we have to do is think about it, and it appears? Curious..." she continued, tossing it into the air and catching it again.

It was at this moment that Sinestro had made his... interesting... entrance. He seemed to be naked, a fact which Nyx observed with measured indifference. She'd seen naked men before, but usually they were more markedly human than this one. He seemed.. different, though again, Nyx couldn't quite put her finger on how. She politely averted her gaze as Ganondorf rushed to the male's aid, providing him with a new set of clothing. When the mage was reassured that the blood-stained thing was suitably dressed, she moved closer.

"How do you know so much about it?" she enquired quietly, still studying the chunk in her palm. What was she supposed to do with it? The others seemed to be absorbing it to cast spells or summon things, but how? And could Nyx really afford to reveal her abilities this soon? Surely, the group would shun her. They didn't seem to like her as it was, she didn't need to add more fuel to the fire.

Still, there was one thing that didn't seem to survive her transition from her home world to this white place... her trusted dagger. Apparently, the Omnilium sensed what she desired and saw fit to give it to her - the glowing material swirled and coalesced, taking the form of her favourite dagger. It was such a simple and unassuming weapon, but the blade was sharper than any that she had ever known. Grasping the handle firmly, she ran her finger along the tip of the blade. It cleanly broke the skin, and she bled onto the cold steel. Grinning, she wiped the blade on her robe then tucked the dagger into the hilt she always kept just inside her boot. At least that had survived.

"It seems to respond to your every desire," she continued nonchalantly, as though she hadn't just summoned a weapon. She brought the wounded finger to her lips, sucking it to stem the bleeding. "It's unlike anything I've ever known. Makes me wonder what the catch is."

[PepsiWhirda]

For the second time in as many minutes, Whirda laughed. Foolish women, petty squabbles, an unspoken undercurrent of too many newcomers vying for leadership of their disparate band... it all reminded her too much of Waterdeep, of her childhood. She wanted nothing to do with it.

"Brilliant strategy," she sneered. "Go alone, and may the gods have mercy. Test our theory of reincarnation so I don't have to."

"This is wrong," said the blonde, with all the emotional intensity of a summoned automaton. "We would not have been brought here like this if we weren't meant to stay together."

The orc woman looked troubled, tense, wired for action that wasn't yet promised to come.

"In my world," Whirda said, "in my profession, groups as discordant as ours meet a swift end on the edge of a blade. Or, in this case," she met eyes with the armored woman, gestured at the cannon hanging at her side, thought of the blue beam she could summon, unlike any magic or technology she'd seen in the realms, "perhaps worse."

"This is not your world," said Eighteen plainly.

"Eight gates," Whirda said.

"What?"

"Eight gates," she said again, more to herself than to anyone listening. Then, to Eighteen, "Look past the orc, past our observers, do you see that?"

Eighteen turned, and when Whirda saw the flash of recognition she continued. "That gate, if that's what it is, seems like the only way out of this place." And who'd want to stay here, given the choice? "There's seven more, all different." She pointed them out, one by one. The group had moved away from them, fascinated by yet another newcomer in dire need of an attitude adjustment, this one red-skinned and screaming.

"I see," Eighteen said.

"Eight gates," Whirda flashed a grin, "eight choices. Which will you choose? That one looks interesting." She pointed to a gate crawling with vines.

"I'm sure we will make a decision together."

"Together?" Whirda said. "In the time that'll take, our observer friends will have called in enough reinforcements to slaughter us all where we stand. I agree with our large friend over there on one thing: I don't want to test this theory of reincarnation. Not yet. Not till I've learned more."

Her companion didn't reply. Whirda set her jaw. "Join me if you like. I'm going." She unsheathed her blades, as much a mechanical act as one of necessity, and stalked off toward the viny gate.

[Thaal Sinestro]

“The catch is,” Sinestro spat, “that we’re here. The ‘Omniverse.’” He finished clasping the plain, archaic trousers. “We are trapped here by the power of that creature that I must assume we all saw before awakening.” Pulling the brown tunic over his crimson chest, the ex-lantern began fastening the ornate steel clasps all the way up to the garment’s high neck. “It seems to think we’re ‘interesting.’” The belt was thick, excessively so, with a buckle that ran far larger than its use would necessitate. “And so, we are here to entertain it.” The boots were as disproportionate as the belt, thick and heavy, running all the way up the calf to just below the knee.

“Indeed,” Ganon said in his deep, unmistakable bass. The thick shouldered man gave a cordial smile and began to lift himself from his knee.

Thall stepped back in shock, in his delirium not noticing that he had knelt down to address him the entire time. The man, no, the titan, was not shorter than the lean soldier, but instead almost a full foot taller. He was no Arkillo but what he lacked in pure mass he seemed to make up for in cunning.

Everybody in the group was either made of metal or had a bladed weapon of some kind. Two had weapons that reminded him of Cyborg’s. In fact, they both looked like cyborgs. Warriors of some kind, every last one of them.

He could already see the pockets of alliances being formed. A group of technologically based individuals, as well as the small boy clad in green. There was some green woman plodding angrily towards a pair of others in the distance. Now another woman was heading off into the white, towards what appeared to be an archway in the distance.

Squinting, he saw something else near the gates. “We should all leave as soon as possible,” he said, pulling the long, ornate jacket he had been given over his shoulders.

”And why is that?” the robed female asked.

He lifted his finger, pointing to the distance. “I believe this place will get much more ‘interesting’ here in the next few minutes.”

The giant Ganon squinted and scowled as his eyes fell upon the growing cloud that poured through the gate. “That may be a wise course of action.”

“More than you may know,” the woman in the red suit chimed in, motioning in the opposite direction, indicating a swarm of equal size. She hefted her large arm-cannon up, her facial screen flickering back to opaque.

The metal boy with glasses slowly stepped backwards, facing the horde closest to him and slid his shield in front. His thin lips curled into a frown and a bright glow hummed out of his own weapon.

“Raising Heart, start scans on the approaching forces,” the woman politely asked her small, red sphere.

Yes, my master, it replied.

“We need to either move or fight,” the blonde woman said matter-of-factly, “And I vote we move. I don’t think any of us are in the position to have a stand-off with whatever’s coming.”

Sinestro felt naked amid these people, even the children had swords and guns. Without his ring, what was he? Who would fear some dreg from another world, stripped of the only thing that made him-

No.
He was Sinestro. Even before he was a Green Lantern he was his world’s greatest archaeologist. When the Guardians had recognized him, he rose among the ranks and restored his world from a suffering, struggling cesspool into a pinnacle of order and law. From Korugar, he corrected his sector. After his sector, the universe. After that pathetic bastard Jordan had him sent into the antimatter universe, he found a way. The Qwardians had forged him a ring, and he had escaped. From that ring, he forged a Corps, a force that challenged the very progenitors of the universe. He had been the first White Lantern. He had defeated Nekron, and saved the universe and all of its inhabitants.

He would find a way. He wouldn’t just survive, he would conquer.

[Omni]

In Coruscant, troops were pouring out of the three carriers, filling the area around the gate. Their leader, a man wearing a black and red helmet, scanned the area for civilians before giving the hand gesture to proceed through the gate. A man with a blue military uniform and eyepatch stepped out of one of the carriers.

“Nice to see you, judge. It’s been a while.”

Dredd grunted perfunctorily. He had better things to do than talk to politicians.

In another world, iron-clad soldiers were tying up their pegasi to the posts around a similar gate, in a grassy area surrounded by stones. Each one’s head was covered by a helmet with a pointed top, and they wore spears, swords and bucklers. They filtered through the gate two-by-two, into the Nexus. Ahead of them, surveying the white landscape, was a man, unhelmeted, his dark hair spilling over his shoulders.

Next to him stood a huge man with green skin. He had similarly long dark hair, but coarser, and with two massive dreadlocks that hung over the plated armor that covered his heaving chest. Tied to his belt on was side was a hammer; on the other, an axe. “They’re here already,” he said. “You think this is gonna get ugly?”

“With the Empire, it always is. Let’s summon horses.”

The soldiers finished filtering through and lined up to watch the two Primes as they worked. Blank-eyed, pure white steeds were materialising, each bearing Minas Tirith’s coat of arms – a white tree, its branches reaching up to seven stars. It took several minutes, but soon the rainbow light faded and there was a horse for each soldier.

On the other side of the verse, a similar thing was happening. The Judge and his moustachioed, eyepatched compatriot were summoning a great fleet of floating metal bikes with just the barest amount of material on their frames. Soon, there was one for each of the stormtroopers.

In the space of ten minutes, they were all mounted and heading for the middle of the verse. The fountaineers had a very short space of time. Run, or stand?

[Omni]

Before anyone had time to make a proper decision, the riders had crossed the distance and were closing in from either side. One of the horsemen peeled off to address Garona.

“Who are you?!” she demanded, daggers drawn.

“Now’s not the time,” replied Thrall. “This place is about to get really dangerous. I’d advise you get behind us.” He rode on before she could respond.

The group that had been summoned to the fountain tensed up, ready to fight. But the two other groups, now slowing down, seemed more interested in each other. King Aragorn jumped off his horse and strode past the group, ignoring them entirely. Judge Dredd did the same. They stopped a few feet from each other. Meanwhile the riders encircled the fountain.

After several seconds of glaring, Aragorn and Dredd spoke at once.

“These Primes are not yours-”
“This area is not your jurisdiction-”

They stopped. They tried again.

“I’m telling you to leave!”
“You and your men back off now!”

They looked at each other, each one’s arm outstretched and pointing at the other. Grudgingly, they took a step back.

Thrall and King Bradley each stepped in. Bradley was the first to speak.

“I propose we give these Primes a choice,” he said, as though that was obvious, and simple.

Aragorn grimaced. He immediately regretted not saying that first. Thrall spoke for him. “Fine. But these Primes need to know what they’re getting into.”

Samus was the first of the fountain-group to speak, stepping forward immediately. “Prime? What’s a Prime?” The tone of her voice belied her frustration.

“And who,” interjected Ganondorf, raising a dubious finger towards the four apparent leaders, just as the others began to chime in, “Are you?”

“What is this place?”
“Why should we trust you?”
“What’s going on?!”

“We,” began King Bradley, speaking loudly, calmly and deliberately over the ruckus, “Are the Empire.”

“And we are the Kingdom,” followed Aragorn, stepping towards the group at the fountain.

The two kings crossed eyes. They understood each other’s intentions. This would be a battle of words, not swords. As they turned to the fountaineers, they fell quiet.

Bradley smiled warmly. “I think everyone’s pretty confused right now. Let me start. You’re all in the Omniverse, and yes it is real. Everyone was like you at one point. We -” He pointed to himself, Dredd, Aragorn and Thrall. “-All arrived here, at this very fountain. The rest of us -” He gestured to the stormtroopers and soldiers around the fountain. “Arrived elsewhere.”

Aragorn spoke up. “We don’t know who Omni is, or what he wants. He explained omnilium to all of you, correct?” He made eye contact around the group, and was met by a few nods. “We used that to build our Kingdoms, summon our friends.” He nodded to his soldiers. “Primes are people like us, those who were chosen by Omni.”

“People who can use omnilium,” Bradley added. “That’s why we’ve come here. You see, you’re all important. And there are some, like the Kingdom, who would seek to use you for the wrong purposes.”

“The Empire is built on lies,” asserted Aragorn.

“And what of your Kingdom?”

“We may not have your power,” the raven-haired man nodded, grimly, “But we have, strength. You are different.”

“Different’s not the word I’d use,” retorted Bradley. “Better. I’ve seen your Kingdom, you live in muck. You want to use these people to make things better for yourselves, but you never will. Not with a weak leader like you.”

Aragorn’s expression twisted with anger, but he did not shout. “If I hadn’t come here, you would have taken all these people.”

The eyepatched man gave a short, derisive noise. “And what were you coming to do, King Aragorn?”

There was a scream from the fountain. It was Thaal. “None of you have any power over me!”

“We are immortal,” said Nyx, as though stating the obvious.

“What I can do, is make you an offer,” said King Aragorn. “Come to my Kingdom. We will guarantee your freedom. We will house you, make you comfortable. It’s your choice.”

“And I will make our offer,” said Bradley. “Come to Coruscant. We will make you comfortable – and by that I mean a real place to live, not some stone-walled shack. Make use of the technology available to us. There’s no catch. You can stay there, or go somewhere else.” He laughed. “Go see his Kingdom, if you want.”

“I’m not forcing anyone,” said Aragorn. “You can go with him, or come with me, or you can go to any one of the other verses. I just don’t want the Empire to twist you against us.”

For a moment, nobody spoke.

[Blink]

Despite what might be considered a rather grim outlook on life, the man who was called The Joker did not particularly enjoy the darkness. He had been - or at least he thought he had been - in a police car on his way to Arkham Asylum once again. But now he was just floating in the darkness, processing the information that had been forced down his ear-holes. His memory was fuzzy - he didn't remember how long ago it had been, but the last thing he could remember was a failed plot at the carnival. He had been trying to prove a point to the stubborn Batman. He wanted to show how easy it was to become like him - how one bad day could turn a normal person into a madman like the Joker. But in the end, despite crippling his daughter, The Joker was unable to turn Commissioner Gordon against his city. He could remember laughing with Batman about his failure - and thinking how they were born to be hero and villain fighting against each other for all time.

Then he was here. In this place. If you could even call it a place. It was pitch black, save for the silhouetted man in front of him, giving him a rehearsed speech. Joker's red eyes perked around as the figure spoke - talking about this place and why he was here. It was an annoyingly one-sided conversation. Omni, as he called himself, spoke about the Omniverse and how Joker had been selected to live there. That part was boring. The interesting part about the material that shaped this world, which he called Omnilium. That sounded like the good stuff. The kind of stuff that someone like Joker would find really...what was the word? Fun.

By the time a white-gloved hand spat out of the fountain, nobody had been paying attention to it. There was a commotion between two large groups with a smaller group right in the middle. Joker sucked in a deep breath when he came out of the water, using both arms to pull himself out of the fountain. He blinked his red eyes a moment as they adjusted so he could see what was going on. The fountain he was in appeared to only been a foot or so deep from the outside - he could look over the edge of it and see the ground. But his entire body was inside the fountain, defying what his eyes were telling him. "Well," he finally brought himself to speak, "This is one hell of a practical joke, if it's not real."

He used his weight to pull himself out of the fountain and roll onto the ground. His covered hands ran over his purple jacket as he sat up, looking at his long legs outstretched in front of him. He looked at his pointy black shoes and wiggled his toes - half because he wanted to ensure they work, and half because they looked really funny when he did. He got a chuckle out of his own movements.

"I'm not forcing anyone," someone said in a strong, firm voice. Joker's ears twitched as he looked up at the man who spoke. It was one of the riders in one of the big groups surrounding the smaller group. “You can go with him, or come with me, or you can go to any one of the other verses. I just don’t want the Empire to twist you against us.” The man looked exactly like the kind of guy Joker hated. He was disgustingly handsome, annoying strong and probably idiotically brave. Joker knew somebody like that, and go figure, he didn't care for him that much, either.

Joker was perceived to be a lot of things. Insane, evil, and impulsive were all traits he had heard to describe him. But he was actually a patient man. He wanted to get all the facts - learn about all the faces before he acted. Especially in this strange world that he wasn't entirely convinced was real. So his slid backwards, around the fountain he had just crawled out of, doing his best to remain unnoticed.

He licked his lips as he slunk backwards, crouching away from the groups in front of him. "This is either the best or the worst dream I've ever bad. Maybe..." he said to himself with a big smile, tilting his head forward, "Maybe it's both."

[Kenshin Himura]

Omni.

The thought was like a gunshot and at its prompt Himura was up in a blur of blue in red. On his feet with his sword drawn he spun around and saw he was encircled by a throng. With a snarl he burst through the thinnest collection of them and out into the open white canvas of land stretching into the distance.

With a few yards distance behind him and the lambs he about faced, sword poised, eyes wild. Blue eyes. Hungry eyes.

Himura suffered from night terrors. In these haunting dreams he carved down rows of men like a peasant would reap corn. The blood painted him like a foul bath until he was drenched and smelled sweet. His dreams were like his realities only at the end of them, he'd find himself stricken down by a divine hand; be it fate, or disease, or a shutdown of body or mind. Never at the hand of a man, though. Never. eg-g

This was no night terror. In his dreams the Battousai was an animal in his fervor to slake his bloodlust. His speed knew no bounds and his body was a fluid tool of terror relentless in its slaughter. Upon waking in real life, Himura always took stock of his body while he took stock of the threats surrounding him. When he slept he sat upright, back against a wall, and with his hands on the hilt of his sword. Something was wrong with this awakening.

He remembered the face. The thought that had awoken him.

Omni.

Viciously the samurai darted his gaze from one group to the other. The confusion was palpable. There was fear in the air - the groups on mounts and strange floating devices held the thorough confidence of soldiers and leaders. These men were threats. Between these groups were the lambs thirsting for knowledge and shaky in their convictions.

Waking everyday in the field of battle and never knowing what was around him and when death might rear its ugly head, Himura never woke without his bearings.

Some eyes were on the samurai with his snarling scowl and his gleaming blade. His kimono was midnight blue, his motions were tense and fluid all at once, and at his hip rested a sheath that partnered with the katana in the warrior's hand. A tied back shock of red hair tumbled past the samurai's shoulders and stopped short before the small of his back. He was lean, and he looked young.

Two men near opposite sides of the fountain met eyes, now, and shared a look of meaningful and mutual distaste. This was a look Kenshin attributed to the musings of philosophers and politicians. No battle was to break out here; yet, his sword was not going anywhere. He continued to stand at the ready.

One man in an eyepatch began to describe the situation at hand to the lambs surrounding the fountain, splintered off into small groups based around their beliefs or their comfort zones if their body language was any barometer.

As the banter was exchanged, any attention put to Kenshin was shifted to the speakers. Kenshin's own attention was elsewhere - he heard clips and phrases from the conversation but he noticed something else, too. In the fountain. Something rose with a wretched lurch and swam into view but was not noticed by all in the dominant confusion. Whether it was beast or man Kenshin was uncertain, but it wore paint on its face like a warrior. It carried itself like a monster.

Kenshin hunkered down with his sword ready while an explanation was given on omnilium and portals, on factions and decisions, on the freedom to choose and the freedom to forge a path. The Battousai however needed no permission. He was a dog of the shogunate and these strange outlanders held no love for him, nor he for them. Though, if this was a permanent setting, as the God-Omni had explained, then Kenshin might need to make a decision soon.

One of the leaders wore raven tresses and rode astride a mount. He offered freedom, he offered strength. The other side rode astride strange devices Kenshin did not understand, and yet, they carried a darker confidence and reminded Kenshin of the men he had worked under in a life perhaps lost to him now.

He wasted no time. Moving swiftly with a burst of movement, Kenshin was a blur, and then he was sheathing his sword at the side of the man with the eyepatch facing the others, those who resembled knights of a lost era. He stood as an ally to these dark forces. He stood as a dog, and a man, and a force to be reckoned with. And yet he felt a strange drain in his gut from moving at a speed that had before been natural for him - something had sapped some of his physical endurance, and his strength.

No matter. It would be regained the same way he had garnered it to begin with.

Through a path of blood and experience. Himura stood silent, hand on the hilt of his blade, and looked out over the lambs. The hazard of lambs was their indecisiveness. He would not be a lamb. He would be a wolf, and run with the wolves until be was seen as a lion.

[PepsiWhirda]

From afar, Whirda watched the proceedings with equal parts mirth and confusion, and more than a touch of triumph. While the rest of her party, Eighteen included, chose to remain at the fountain, squabbling and lurching around like a bunch of headless chickens, she had covered the distance to the vine-covered gate in just over an hour, aided by the summoned wind and her already prodigious speed. Now they were beset on all sides by unknown assailants, associates of the observers, no doubt. It all went exactly as she'd predicted.

Let them be captured, as far as Whirda was concerned. These things always went the same way. Whenever a group of individually talented warriors were brought together, to be unified under a single banner or fight for a single cause, there was an ulterior motive attached. Without exception, there was an outside force condescending to play puppet master, someone who thought themselves smarter. Often, someone who was smarter, as far as Whirda was concerned. She held no illusions of great intellect, only sharply honed instinct, which had served her well in escaping the hodgepodge of outside forces now swarming her friends.

To their credit, from what little Whirda could see, they were not fighting. The swarm of movement that would accompany a battle was instead replaced by stationary specks on the horizon. From the gate just to the east, much closer, Whirda had watched, crouched low to avoid notice, the summoned horses and their riders, wearing the banner of an unknown kingdom. Too many for her to count, riding with military precision. From the other side of the fountain, she saw the dark blurs of an unknown force zip along the ground, quicker but more haphazard, their mode of transport unknown to her, but too indistinct for speculation.

Whirda turned to face the gate, portal, whatever it was. It looked like two hulking trees had been bent to meet at the middle and stripped of branches, forming a clean, bark-covered arch. Vines girdled the trunks, wending their way between and around each other as if to embrace everything they touched. Inside the gate, there was only a silvery swirl, like a pool of mercury rippling outward in reaction to a thrown stone. Through it wafted a heavy scent, fetid and vegetal, drawing her in, in to adventure, in to exploration, in to the blind, consuming frenzy of combat.

It was the only way she could forget.

[Proto Man]

The atmosphere was still tense, but the arrival of the two opposed forces had shed some light on the situation. From the looks of it, the Omniverse was contested between the four men standing across from one another at the base of the fountain. One on end stood an older man dressed like a mideval knight, and at his side, there was a hulking green individual who was also dressed for a bygone era. They were opposed by the one-eyed man, who carried himself like a statesman. Next to him was someone garbed in what seemed to be a heavily reinforced police uniform. A large gun was visible on the man’s waist, but all of his features save his nose and grizzled chin were hidden behind a helmet similar to the android’s own headgear.

Proto Man heard a light splashing in the fountain, but he ignored it, his hidden eyes glued on the four individuals. Despite the cordial agreement they had just struck over the recent arrivals, their tense posture and the group of armed troops behind them seemed to indicate that this was a powder keg just waiting for that fatal spark. In the distance, Proto Man saw that the green woman with the tusks was lost in her thoughts. The robot wondered if she shared any kin with Aragorn’s equally green-skinned partner.

From further away, Proto Man caught a glimpse of the woman with the knives as she slipped off toward one of the gates that adorned the horizon. He wondered if she had made the smart choice to avoid the drama and slip away unseen. If he had known this was going to happen, he would have made a beeline for any of those gates before this diplomatic standoff had started.

Someone he hadn’t previously noticed glided forward like a wraith and joined the one-eyed man and the helmeted officer. Was this what would happen? Would each of them pick a side like a game of football on a playground? He’d never partaken in such activities, but Proto Man had spent more afternoons than he could remember watching the ‘normal’ kids play sports outside their schools. It still pained him that he’d never worked up the courage to go introduce himself. The fear that had forced him from home had made it hard for him to connect to anyone.

Either way, he knew that neither side was the right or wrong answer. Dr. Light had labeled his former friend and partner a madman, but the ‘good doctor’ was guilty of his own fair share of tainted decisions. Proto Man placed a hand on his chest and scowled at the memory of the pain he’d felt for years because Light had rushed his power core to compete against Wily for some prize.

Stepping away from the fountain, Proto Man felt more than a few sets of eyes on him as he walked over to the one-eyed politician, the samurai, and the helmeted man. The red robot, shield in one hand and a gun for the other, stood in front of the officer and looked up at him.

Although there had been some chatter amongst the others, everyone fell silent as the two helmeted individuals stared silently at one another—one of them nearly two feet taller than the other.

“I like your helmet, Mister…” Proto Man remarked before trailing off, prompting the man’s thin lips to twist into a scowl.

“Judge Dredd.” The helmeted soldier replied in his gravelly voice as one of his hands apathetically waved away the battered-looking preteen. Despite only seeing the bottom half of the man’s face, the robot knew he’d already been dismissed.

“What do you do?” Proto Man asked, who was now simultaneously irritated and unwilling to just back away.

“I am a Judge. I hunt down criminals and judge them for their crimes. I keep the filth from overtaking the streets of Corusant. Now this discussion has little to do with a child, regardless of whether or not you may be a Prime.”

Proto Man already knew that he hated this man, both for the casual manner in which he described his job as a glorified murderer and for his continually patronizing tone. From the corner of his eye, the android saw one that one of Dredd’s armored lackeys had dismounted from his bike and was standing a few feet away, his attention obviously diverted to one of the attractive women at the fountain.

With a smile, Proto Man twisted his torso and leveled his gun arm with the bike. A few flashes of light spilled out from the cannon as it sucked in a whoosh of air before releasing a charged bolt of energy. The blast struck the idle hover bike and blew it apart, throwing the nearby storm trooper to the ground and startling his nearby comrades, who scrambled to draw weapons Before they could make a rash decision, their Judge threw up a gloved hand, and their years of conditioning halted them dead in their tracks.

The robot preteen looked back at Dredd’s visor-concealed countenance. Although the soldier’s other hand now hovered over his gun, his stance and facial expression betrayed little of anything.

“This is not our jurisdiction…yet.” He spoke loud enough for his troops (and anyone else nearby for that matter) to hear. “But in the future, you may want to look both ways when walking the streets of Corusant.” To Dredd’s right, the one-eyed politician wore an amused look on his face, whilst the samurai clutched his fingers around the hilt of his blade.

Proto Man smiled, understanding the veiled threat in the Judge’s caustic yet chill tone. “I’ll make sure I do,” the robot muttered without tearing his own concealed eyes from the helmeted soldier.