Day 1 Morning

[Okor]

A grimace spread across the marine’s face as the Avatar of Omni worked its reality-warping magicks, the very fabric of realspace bending to its whims. The floor, its once-pristine beauty corrupted by the foul substances seeping from Okor’s corroded armour, split open, a yawning abyss formed from darkness pulling the necrotic nightmare down, down, down. Gravity, that cruel, capricious, and heartless bitch called him, his titanic frame twisting and turning throughout the seemingly infinite fall, the pitch-black nothingness that surrounded him seemingly denying him the luxury of existence. He could feel nothing, see nothing, and could scarcely hear the ichor pounding through his veins. It was as if his blighted life has finally come to an end, snuffed out in this emptiness, and left to rot.

This would never be the case. He was Okor Paleblood, son of the Fourteenth Legion, chosen warrior of The Lord of All, and, most recently, Dean of Security. He had but a single life, and he would be damned if it was wasted in such a contemptuous manner. Shattered ebony obelisks bared themselves beneath the helmet in a snarl as he realigned himself, pinpricks of light penetrating the perpetual purgatory in which Omni had consigned him to.

He broke the stasis, and brought entropy in its place.

His malodorous mass collapsed from the sky, landing against soft emerald grass, its sublime beauty quickly ruined by several hundred kilograms of rotten meat and rusted metal landing on top of it, grinding chlorophyll-filled blades into the mud.

He laid there for a moment, idly staring into the aftermath of the localized devastation brought by his oh-so-graceful arrival. Ragged remnants of vegetation laid half-buried in the earth around him, mirroring his own embedded position.

A claw pressed against the wet earth, its bony grasp leaving a handprint in the black mud as he pushed himself up, the ground clinging to his armour as it left its cold embrace, denying himself the long-sought respite of the dead.

He stumbled to his feet, breathing in the familiar toxins poisoning his ‘Oxygen’ reservoirs. He blinked as he looked over the idyllic landscape, small mammals cavorting through long grass, currently unafraid of the ambulatory carrion in their midst.

This would, of course, be changing in the foreseeable future. A hand drifted over his few worldly possessions, running across his emblazoned tabard, the three circles that formed Nurgle’s mark as prominent as always. While the Gods were, of course, ever-present, the noted disappearance of his weaponry was more worrying. A gurgling hiss rose from his ravaged throat, the inhuman noise making his displeasure quite clear. Would it be too much to ask for his weapons? He had been tossed into a killing field, given a clear goal, and had made a sufficient amount of allies. Targeting algorithms, long-since infested by malicious warp sprites seeking bloodshed and a sanctuary in realspace, joined him in mourning for his lost bolt weapons. Their howl had been a constant companion across a hundred worlds. Battle-brothers died, reclaimed by The Lord of All across the millennia of never-ending war.

But his weapons never left him, except in this damned dimension. They were as much a part of him as his Betcher’s Gland, his Oolotic Kidney, the Omophagea, his Progenoids. He was as much of a weapon as they were, and his kindred had been stolen.

It was but another grudge to hold against The Smiling One, the mad god-child that tormented his prisoners in a twisted hellscape of his own making. One day, they’d find a way to unlock the corporeal constraints forced upon them. They’d find Omni, and they would repay his predations in kind.

But for now, there were more immediate, more… vulnerable concerns.

His decrepit eye spotted a glimmer in the fallout of his arrival. Two shaped crescents of steel laid in the shattered earth. Stooping down, he pried his trophies from the wreckage, emaciated fingers naturally slipping into the metallic rings. He flexed his dead extremities, nodding in approval at the simple effectiveness of the weapon.

Better than a single damned bullet, at least.

He set himself in motion, shambling forward. With luck, he’d find something to work out his building frustration on.

[Simon]

At this point, even a long-decimated stone metropolis gave Dante a welcome change in pace. It also would hopefully give the man a bit of reprieve from the elements, or at least that was part of the idea. The ocean had began to swell viciously behind him as he had left the shore, which might've predicted a storm had there been any clouds out.

The devil hunter had been briefly resting under a corner of a collapsed building, finding mild relief in the mere spit of shade the structure provided, when the spirit of Teucer saw fit to blare into his ear again.

Just rudimentary and generic words of encouragement seemed to be the jist of what Dante heard. Apparently someone had already stumbled upon one of the Guardians, and the coastline could be fixing to shrink in the next few hours, but none of that concerned this champion currently. For the moment, he really just wanted to lounge a while after the exhaustive hike that had brought him up to here. However, something else continued to nag at his body with constant discomfort.

Hunger. The half-blood hadn't eaten in a long time - not since the Colosseum, technically - but only now did the repercussions start to take their toll. Another side effect of this place shutting down Omnilium, probably. And now, yet another damn problem to worry about.

Of course, Dante had always figured there was a special circle of hell for people who did nothing but whine.

So, like any good person not intent on going there, he fought hard against the urge to just lay and do nothing for a handful of time. A gloved hand grabbed the fringe of the broken wall beside him, and pulled the nephilim to his feet. There wasn't really much use to sticking around in this part of town, anyway, with there being nothing but scattered crumblings of stone and clay around. Even the remainder of the lot he sat under was just one of a handful in this particular sector.

With the sun beating on his head and the breeze whipping at his loose articles, the Son of Sparda stepped from his cover with some trepidation. His vision turned to the centerpiece of this ruined city: an ancient, nigh-monolithic structure, perhaps a palace or high temple in its own time. Now, maybe a citadel like that had something worth looting as far as supplies went- and hopefully something else interesting even if it didn't.

Not about to get his hopes up early, Dante kept his blank visage as he began to walk again, tromping over the many bits of fallen structures in what remained of the earth-beaten road.

[Orihime Inoue]

The atmosphere around her turned from a tranquil sunrise to murky and dreary like a reprehensible omen. Orihime’s silky red braid fluttered in the breeze like the tail of a kite while she looked up at the dangerous cloud formation above her.

“Storms coming,” she warned herself as she searched for any sort of a path that led up the snowy ridge. There was nothing, just barren landscape that was sigh out of reach from winter's kiss.

“Aaahhhhhahhh!” An agonizing yell ripped through the canyon abruptly, tearing Orihime from the stunningly calm scenery. The sound of the wail was so unexpected that it startled her, chilling her to her bones.

“Hello? Where are you? Do you need help?” the red haired maiden cried out desperately trying to locate the unfortunate victim. The voice returned her call for help with another blood-curdling wallow.

The pitiful plea sounded like it was coming from behind Orihime's left shoulder. Spinning herself around like ballerina she rushed toward a patch of thorny bushes that were rooted several feet in front of her. Upon arrival, she found a wee plucky tail, attached to a round furry butt.

“What is this?” Orihime babbled excitedly while she hurried to see the face of a beast caught in the bushes trap.

“It’s a goat!” she screamed as a smile covered the whole of her soft freckled face.

“AaAAahhhhhgahh!” the goat angrily returned her squeals as it frantically shook his head.

The ginger was stunned that a creature like this could make such a horrendous noise. However the longer she stood there towering over the unfortunate beast the less she could control her desire to burst out in laughter.

“I am so sorry Mr. Goat. I just thought you were a person, let me help you out of this mess ok?” Orihime cooed gently, as she cautiously started to separate the branches wrapped around his worn and weathered horns.

“How in the world did this happen Mr. Goat?” the girl asked, as she struggled to release the bushes hold on the poor billy goat. With one final tug, she was able to release him from his predicament.

With the last jerk of its head, the goat was free and watched Orihime carefully. “There you go Mr. Goat” the red head coaxed while standing over the wild creature. For a moment the creature did nothing, it’s big brown eyes reflecting her likeness, before it rushed Orihime, making forceful contact with her kneecaps.

“Oww!” the redhead cracked while the assault caused her to land flat on her ass once again. How typical, this is the thanks she gets for helping out, it was Orihime’s recurring curse. Rising to her feet she brushed as much loose dirt from her once white skirt as possible before apologizing and turned away from the beast.

Backing 3 feet away the goat’s eyes never left the girls, as it watched her turn away. It was not until the fact that the girl turned and looked back, did it return her gaze with a sharp attack to her tuchus.

Crying out in pain again she fell to her hands and knees while the bitter taste of dirt encompassed her tongue and the agony in her bum made her legs shake. Another one of those ridiculous outbursts filled the air again, as Orihime found herself standing. She heard a soft rumble and felt the sand and dirt jump at her feet. Oh no what know? the girl thought, not prepared for the onslaught of hooves approaching furiously from the horizon.

More than Orihime could count, a herd of rabid mountain goats surrounded the unlucky maiden. She could tell by their stance that they were going to charge out at any second and cried out desperately “San Tan Keshun!”

A bright glowing orb embraced Orihime as one by one the goats began to perish by a streak of black lightning. It was Ichigo! The once menacing mountain beasts were fleeing for their lives as her hero held Orihime’s loving gaze. A wretched bone crushing pain tore Orihime from her fantasy, as her body was plumbed and trampled by several very real, furry nightmares.

So far the girl was having the worst time, this was definitely not a vacation for Orihime. The assault continued, as she did her best to avoid as many collisions as possible. like a matador did evade an angry bull. She hated that she had to do this, but she had no chose, removing her weapon from her side she poked at the creatures defensively. This strategy was very ineffective as she had no idea how to use whatever the grandfather spirit gave her. “Get back you smelly animals!” Orihime cried out in frustration. How was she going get out of this pickle without losing her limbs?

[Ruby Rose]

"Hyah!" The crimson clad teen yelled as she drove the rhombic tip of her oversized blade into the gnawed, deterioating mountainside. The sky-piercing hill shudder in agony as the steel pierced its cracking flesh, and the reverberation numbed Ruby's tiny palms. "Now I can't feel my hands..." She whimpered like a pup as she climbed up to a small alcove, tearing her weapon from its earthen sheath. "Eh... huh... this is hard work." She panted, wiping the waterfall of sweat from her forehead; it didn't help that she wore rather concealing black clothing, and a cloak to boot. "Nearly there." She gasped to herself as she swung off to her right, impaling the rock once more and using the flat blade as a platform.

After a series of mountain-shaking stabs (literally) and quick-thinking leaps of faith, Ruby's strawberry-oiled midnight hair peeped over the edge of the mountain she had picked for her climb. As she hauled herself over the edge, her muscles tensed and her breath rasped into wispy white clouds. Suddenly she was freezing and bathing in a blanket of chilly, powdery snow. "H-hoooo..." She squealed under her frozen breath, skittering to her feet and rubbing her arms frivolously to warm her tiny body up. "It's FREEZING!" She shouted, a frosty, broken echo returning to her ears. Thank Omni that she was wearing her boots; she'd be frozen to death in no time flat if her feet made constant contact with the biting slush.

The girl shakily reached down and retrieved her weapon, hauling it to a standing position and thrusting it through the snow and into the soft earth below. An unholy growl emanated from the abyss that her stomach had become in her journey to the clouds. "I'm hungry..." She complained as a spoiled child would, rubbing her thin midsection poorly. Grasping the lengthy hilt of her gift, she brought it around to her left side, the tip digging into the frost behind, before swinging around in a powerful, wide arc, kicking up a tsunami of snow and the sparse chunk of mud into the air, the mish-mash wave crashing to a heavy pile a mere few feet away. But the small area up-ended was more than enough; half a dozen or so small plants had been laid flat against the mud from the carpet that had covered them, but Ruby knew they weren't mere shrubs.

Dropping to her knees, the youth began to forage, tearing through the dirt and chucking it aside in large clumps, until she had dug up six lovely carrots. Well, half were lovely; beautiful orange hues and nicely sized to add icing on the cake... but the other half were all either mush or had already made contact with predators. Frowning, the girl fell backwards onto her rear and cleaned her brown hands in the snow, followed by the carrots, and began to dine, her enormous blade impaled in the ground at an angle beside her.

"You know... this kinda reminds me of the initiation in the Emerald Forest." She mused to herself as she munched down on her vibrant treats. "Fending for ourselves to survive, with nothing more than a weapon and our wits." She continued on, devouring one carrot and moving onto he next. "Except this time... you don't know who you can trust... that Okor guy seemed kinda suspicious. And Weiss seemed to be hiding something when she told me where she knew him..." She scratched her chin gently as she made a move on her third carrot. She could have sworn she'd noticed the name 'Okor' somewhere, but couldn't exactly place it... it was likely better, she thought, that she didn't know the truth.

Peeling herself from the damp earth, Ruby patted herself down and climbed to the pommel of her sword. "I wonder... I spy with my little eye, something beginning with..." She mumbled, before her argent eyes flew open in surprise and curiosity. "What is that?!" She asked to the chill wind, pupils locked onto some large structure, the thick air obscuring a decent look at her finding. "Well, curiosity killed the cat..." She muttered, hopping down from her perch and turning away... but through a second glance back. "Buuuuut... satisfaction did bring it back..." She added, conflicted as to where her destination should be.

[The Spirit]

FACE TO FACE
MAKOTO YUKI vs. DANTE

The blue-haired youth had been wandering through the crumbling city for what seemed like hours. Everywhere he looked there was nothing of note beyond stone and thick overgrowth, no doubt evidence of the city’s age. But it was a strange brown object nestled innocently underneath an archway that piqued Makoto’s interest. From a distance it appeared to be an ordinary cardboard box. Perhaps a trap? Or maybe a care package left for one lucky enough to stumble upon it? The possibilities swam through Yuki’s mind as he inched close to the curious box. Not one to take chances the high schooler took aim with his slingshot and fired a golfball-sized stone at his target. It struck the cardboard with an anti-climatic thud, it was certainly full of something.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained I suppose,” Makoto muttered to himself as he sauntered towards the curious object.

Before opening the box he glanced around, scanning for any potential threats. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, or rather as ordinary as this place could be. Slowly and carefully he crouched down to open the lid and reveal the temptations hidden within. Disappointment punched the curious Makoto in the gut as the box was revealed to only be filled with various stones. But it was the cold voice of his hidden opponent that sent a surge of fear through his spine.

“You know what they say,” Dante spoke as he emerged from his hiding spot. In a burst of red light his signature blade, Rebellion, materialized. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

Reacting quickly Yuki stumbled backwards, avoiding several slashes from his opponent’s blade. But he could only backpedal so far before the Son of Sparda’s onslaught drew blood. A line of fire was carved into Makoto’s chest illiciting a gasp from the blue-haired prime. Another series of slashes crashed into the poor youth, sending flashes of blood and flesh flying through the air. A well place kick sent Yuki into the air where he was spiked back to earth with a final strike of Dante’s blade. He was sent skidding across the moss-covered cobblestone, before coming to rest several meters away. Dante began to stalk forward, hoping to neutralize the potential threat.

Slowly, but surely the Makoto found his footing and weakly stood to face his foe. It was do or die, fight or perish, and Makoto refused to die this early in the game. Shakily raising his sling he aimed for Dante’s dome and let loose another chunk of stone. The blood loss tainted his aim and his projectile zipped past the Son of Sparda’s head. Another rock was hastily fired, followed by another, and another. Yuki hoped to drown his adversary with a hailstorm of stone bullets. Finally reprieve from Dante’s unyielding advance, a solid strike to the red-clad man’s chest took the wind from his pursuit. Another stone cracked into Dante’s kneecap sending a hollow crack through the air. Taking hold of this opportunity the bleeding high schooler bolted through a crumbling archway and deeper into the heart of the city, hopefully far away from anymore assailants.
[spoiler]
WINNER - DANTE

Makoto Yuki takes 12 damage and has several severe gashes and cuts across his body (Moderate Injury)

Dante takes 1 damage and has a painful series micro-fractures in his left kneecap (Superficial Injury)

Dante has used 1 SP to activate Danse Macabre[/spoiler]

[Kakashi Hatake]

Lush overgrown grass tickled the silver-haired shinobi’s toes as he trudged through the brush, unwieldy contraption in-hand. Kakashi had always sort of wondered why open-toed sandals were the ninja vogue for just this reason. He could only hope that there were no snakes or other nasties taking refuge in this particular field.

I wonder how big this island is… the shinobi wondered, squinting toward the horizon. The land seem to stretch on and on, giving no indication of ending. It didn’t help that whatever forces controlled the island had dampened not only his sharingan’s power of perception but also his ability to sense chakra. It seemed that he’d need to search out his sensei the old-fashioned way.

As the sun continued its path across the partly cloud sky, so too did the scarecrow push a path through the grassy plain. He noted little but the occasional bird soaring by overhead as he progressed, their cries making for a rather serene and comforting ambiance. Maybe this will be an easy task. If I could just find some kind of landmark… the copy ninja wondered, straining his keen eyes for points of interest. The waist-high vegetation didn’t afford him a very good vantage point, though he supposed it could at least come in handy to avoid ambush if other contestants sought to fight him. Kakashi briefly considered crawling through the brush to further avoid detection, but decided against it. He was sure that the...whatever it was...that he was carrying would grant him some sort of advantage in combat. He still wasn’t quite sure how it worked, but he was astute if nothing else.

“So, find the relics and bring them to the temple,” the copy ninja spoke to no one in particular. “Simple enough in theory. Simpler still if I can find Minato-sensei. Let’s just hope I don’t run into any trouble in the meantime.”

There was a reason that people often uttered the expression ‘Speak of the devil and he doth appear’. No sooner had the ANBU Captain uttered the words than such a devil made itself known. A guttural snarl drew his attention to his rear just in time to catch sight of an enormous feline diving toward him, claws bared. Kakashi ducked sideways, tumbling haphazardly to the sanctity of the grassy sea. He knew the beast could likely find him purely by scent, but he needed any advantage he could get. The maneuver had earned him but a few moments of respite before he heard the feral feline’s call once more. Instinctively he grabbed for a kunai, cursing as his hand found nothing of the sort. Thinking quickly, he hefted the strange device that Teucer had gifted him, swinging it overhead like a club as the beast pounced. The strangle metal protrusions of the device punctured the beast’s flesh, tearing at its cream-colored fur. With a yelp it shook free, dashing backward a few paces.

“Alright,” the sharingan-wielder grunted, standing at full height. “now’s as good a time as any to test this out.” He leveled the device before him, hastily examining it for any clue as to how it could work. As he fumbled with the various mechanisms he heard the cougar issue an aggressive growl as it tore through the brush once more, intent on felling the shinobi.

“Down boy!” a familiar voice called, its source leaping from Kakashi’s periphery. Minato Namikaze entered his field of view, winding up and slugging the big cat square in the jaw in one swift motion. The injured feline fell to the ground with a crash, whimpering as it scampered away through the underbrush.

“Sensei,” Kakashi began, bowing to the man. “It’s good to see you again.”

The blonde Kage smiled at his subordinate, crossing his arms. “Kakashi, you can just call me Minato, you know. It’s probably been over a decade for you since I was your teacher.”

The scarecrow nodded. It had been quite a while, though having thought the man dead for so long, he had not bothered to alter his language. This was a strange case, after all. “Regardless, I’m glad you found me. This island is huge.”

“Yes,” Minato replied, “I guess we’re pretty lucky that the old spirit dropped us so close together. Anyway, there’s no point in sticking around. Let’s get moving, there are probably more predators hanging around in this field.”

With that, the shinobi duo dusted themselves off and continued their trek.

[The Spirit]

FACE TO FACE
JUPITER vs. MINATO & KAKASHI

The ninja duo were finding their way on the unknown island, with a clear goal in sight they walked on but remained vigilant. Minato suddenly stopped and used his hand to stop Kakashi from moving. The masked ninja nodded and whispered, "Yes i noticed it too." Using their ninja training they approached an unknown person, seemingly resting near a tree. " It could be a trap" Kakashi suggested.

Minato responded with a gentle smile, "Only one way to find out. Keep your good eye open."

Kakashi looked a bit suprised, and as his former teacher got up to approach the stranger he couldn't help but ask, "Was that a joke?"

Jupiter was still recovering from what happened before, the splitting headache that damned robot gave him wasn't helping either. He thought it was best to recover as much strength as possible before moving on. He has seen what kind of contesters there are out there. Suddenly the sound of rustling leaves caught his attention. Up ahead a blond haired male came out from behind some high bushes and slowly approached Jupiter, offering his usual soft smile," Hello stranger."

Jupiter was no fool, he kept his eyes locked on the newcomer as he slowly got up. He didn't trust this one bit, "Thats far enough! Who are you, what do you want?" He shouted at Minato.

"Look i was taken here just like you, i mean you no harm." Minato spoke as he inched closer. The tension between the two was rising, Jupiter didn't want to take any chances. With his right hand he slowly started to reach for his weapon. No further words were spoken, Jupiter grabbed hold of his weapon but kept it out of sight for the approaching ninja. Behind Jupiter's back he pulled out his small blade, ready to defend himself when out of nowhere a large rock was hurled at the unsuspecting Prime, who noticed the object coming from the corner of his eyes. Holding up his small weapon, a strange noise came from his body and stopped the boulder mid-air by blocking it using nothing but his small weapon and his body.

The wounded prime quickly turned to see what happened and saw a second ninja, a masked one, appear from cover holding a strange weapon. "He pulled his weapon, be careful, there could be more." Kakashi said to Minato, who took a fighting stance aswell, holding a small unknown weapon in his right hand.

Two against one, his day was getting better and better. If Jupiter wanted to live to fight another day he would have to force his way out and fast. He lunged towards Kakashi who was caught by suprise. Using his trained ninja reflexes he dodged the small blade barely, but lost his footing. Jupiter saw his chance to escape and got ready for one more attack against Kakashi in order to break free.

"I can't let you do that." A soft voice spoke behind Jupiter. The outnumbered prime felt adrenaline rushing through his body as he quickly turned. The wild movement of his arm managed to cut Minato in his upper left arm. But it was to late, the yellow haired shinobi had his weapon pointed at him at point blank range and squeezed the trigger. With a chirp like noise, as if a thousand crickets chirped at the same time, an enormous force was unleashed and  both Jupiter and Minato were send flying off. The ninja came to a stop against a tree. While Jupiter dissapeared into the thick bushes.

***

"No trace of him" Kakashi said as he returned to Minato.

"Maybe thats for the best, we must continue our own path."

[spoiler]Jupiter : 3 damage. His ribs are bruised and it shows. He has breathing problems after getting hit with the weapon. This will fade over time.His headache has gotten worse.

Used supermove overdrive block -1sp

Kakashi : 0 damage

Minato : 2 damage. A small cut on his upper arm.[/spoiler]

[Moon]

Come on. Really? Two fights, in that short of a time? He didn't want to have pulled that weapon, but he wouldn't have just stood by while they mauled him, either. But he'd gotten double-teamed, and sent packing, with a splitting headache to boot. All of that really just made for a bad introduction to the island. He wasn't in flooding range, luckily, though. So that was great. He'd taken a large beating. Not so great. He made sure those damned ninjas were gone, before slowly sitting up, and going the opposite way.



He needed food. So he resorted to hunting with the knife. He got a decent meal out of it, too. Cow was good when cooked right. While he wasn't quite a Boy Scout, he knew how to light some good fires, if that was good for anything. A few quick glances around determined that no-one was nearby, so he sat down, and took a minute off. The weariness in his bones had set in, and the shortness in his breath had become difficult to work through. He could tell, he was badly hurt. One check on his goggles proved that. Busted ribs. Not broken, but one was poking a lung a bit. Screw up, and he was almost as good as dead.



Well, if he was completely human, that is. No matter, it still hurt like a devil's kiss. With a small sigh, he pulled out his slightly bloodstained knife. If he was to survive, he'd need a better weapon. This butterfly knife couldn't protect him from crossbows. Damn it all. Things weren't really in his favor. Which sucked, because how exactly was he supposed to survive if he was so overpowered repeatedly? This hurt his head worse than the impact. But this struck an idea in his head. What if he found a team to work with? Maybe then he wouldn't die so easy.



So it was settled. His strategy would be to hunt down any kindred spirits, people who weren't inclined to kill on sight. Then maybe, just maybe, he could escape this hellhole, and go meet up with Gnostic. He stood, the determination reignited in his eyes, and he set off. Er, he tried, rather. Really, he just took a few steps, then sat down again. Maybe moving so fast wasn't such a good idea after all.

[Kopaka]

Kopaka reflexively looked out to the rolling waters of the ocean as Teucer's voice came drifting over the winds. The Toa found it odd, suspicious really, that the spirit was able to somehow predict such catastrophes from his prison. The likelihood that Teucer was himself the warlock in disguise was lent another point of evidence, but that didn't change the fact that the tides of the ocean had indeed begun to swell. It was subtle, but watching the frothing waves it was clear that they had become more violent; more voluminous. Gali would have likely thrown a fit to see such a perversion of her particular element taking place, but for the Toa of Ice, all it meant was a change of course.

Originally, Kopaka had intended to travel along the coastline for a longer time before turning towards the mountains, but now it was apparent that said plan was not going to work. Slowly and calmly, Kopaka turned towards the jungle behind him and adjusted the sack of food on his back. Travelling the same direction that the augmented human had fled presented a very real possibility of encountering the wounded man again. The biomech would have to be extra diligent as he tromped into the thick underbrush.

The thick, misty air of the jungle was a pleasant reprieve from the sterile air of Coruscant. Hanging plants, colorful flowers and small pools of water all seemed to glow with their own special verdant radiance. Kopaka did, of course, miss the clean and pure slopes of a snowy mountain, but any pervasive suffusion of nature helped the Toa feel more at ease. That being said, after traveling a safe distance from the coastline, an indicator presented itself in Kopaka's HUD. The gently pulsing symbol indicated that his systems required an injection of energy to maintain themselves. Kopaka needed to eat.

The Toa looked around for options. Any of the plants that choked the surrounding landscape could serve as a perfectly adequate boost to his internal reserves, but what Kopaka needed was a high energy source of nourishment. Something that moved. The Toa could, of course, just reach into his improvised haversack, but Kopaka felt it prudent to save those provisions for his travels through the barren mountains.

Had his Kanohi Akaku been functional, searching through the mud and tree trunks for hiding rahi would have been trivial, but there was no point in dwelling on impossibilities. As the biomech trudged deeper into the jungle, he kept both his audio receptors open for potential meals. Opportunity presented itself when Kopaka came to a small clearing where a small, pudgy bird of some kind was pecking in the dirt for insects. It became aware of the Toa staring at it from several feet away, and elicited a few worried clucks.

These clucks became frenzied squawks as Kopaka switched his mask from the Akaku to Miru. With a flash of cerulean verniers, the Toa surged high into the air, keeping his keen eyes pinned on the hapless fowl. The guinea hen made a waddling beeline for the bushes, but a moment later Kopaka landed on top of the feathered prey. There was a distinct crackling of snapping miniature bones as the hen was pinned under the Toa's cold, protosteel foot, but the prey was not yet dead. Removing his foot from the body of the bird rahi, Kopaka watched as it writhed and twitched in place on the ground, trying to coordinate its broken wings and lets into some semblance of mobility. The Toa had always maintained a grim fascination with the throes of death. The Toa Code so very rarely permitted him to kill anything; when the opportunity presented itself, he preferred to relish it. What thoughts were racing through the bird rahi's fear addled mind? Could it feel the full extent of its pain? Did it even hold a concept of death?

It was pathetic, and Kopaka would be lying if he were to say that he didn't elicit some dark form of satisfaction in watching the morbid display. After some time of staring at the bird thrashing, the guinea hen stopped its tumultuous heaving and simply stated up at Kopaka with a single, shimmering black eye. Its breathing accelerated noticeably as the Toa bent down and scooped the bird from the dirt, staring directly into those inky windows. With a simple squeeze, Kopaka shattered the bird's throat, causing it to instantly go limp.

Now that there was no longer a spectacle, Kopaka removed his mask with a pop-hiss and gently lowered it to the ground, keeping a firm grip on the bird. Without further hesitation, the biomech began pulling the hen's body apart, thick sloughs of blood trickling into the mud below. The Toa shoved the gory chunks of rahi directly into his oral cavity, feathers and all, where it was rapidly broken down by a series of metallic radulae and grinders. Cooking was not really something the Toa held a concept of, and seeing as how he didn't have taste-buds, it would have been redundant anyway.

A few minutes later, the only thing that remained of the hen were a few stray flecks of down, floating on the subtle breeze like motes of the hen's spirit. The Toa proceeded to shave frozen blood and gore from his metallic hands and face before replacing his Kanohi. After a few moments, the consumption indicator blinked out of existence, and the Toa continued deeper into the jungle, his mechanical joints whirring steadily, creating a staccato rhythm of grim determination.

There was no sense in becoming complacent; this was all just the beginning...

[Smith]

At the Temple

The Ex-Agent couldn't help but to look askance at the green-skinned man. First the fellow all but threatens to destroy Smith, and now it seemed that he wanted to ask for the program's assistance. Logic gates within Smith's programming opened and closed as he contemplated the stranger's offer eventually arriving at a list of benefits and consequences of taking him up on his offer. A bulleted missive sprang into existence in his mind's eye.

Pros:
*Having an ally within this game would most certainly improve Smith's chances at victory.
*It would grant him a scapegoat, should Smith require a diversion from an undesirable situation.
*If the green-skin was powerful, Smith's workload would be significantly reduced in his mission.

Cons:
*The man had already made it clear that he wished to destroy Smith.
*It's unlikely that he would ever trust the Ex-Agent.
*If his prospective ally was weak, he would only burden Smith.
*He'd probably have to put up with the fellow's incessant talk and insults.

In the end, only one logical conclusion could be had. However, before Smith could give him answer, the hologram spoke up from their midst. Apparently it had gotten tired of waiting and would be sending its 'champions' out to do its bidding. And while Smith didn't really care about helping the construct, it was unlikely he would ever make it back into the Matrix proper if he did not. And it didn't much seem that Smith had a choice in the matter anyway.

The world once again fell away from Smith as he was transported to another part of the game.

Before the Fight

When the world returned to focus, Smith found himself in a vast tract of forest. Well... he assumed it was vast. The trees hampered his vision, effectively blinding him to what was more than a few dozen yards away. Still, the thick canopy overhead and the perpetual twilight that extended in all directions certainly gave the impression of a sizable wood.

The program let out a disappointed breath, a scowl twisting his features. Had this 'spirit' really wished his freedom, why had he not set Smith at the objective? Of course, if this was just a game, a Smith suspected, the search might well be a part of it as well. It was the logical conclusion. Still, it was an irksome one.

Without a guide, or sign, to give Smith a definite direction in which to travel, the Ex-Agent was forced to hazard a guess as to the right way. Another troublesome aspect of this game. Smith was data... a program. While he was highly advanced and could learn, as one would expect with an AI, he still much preferred to have a plan when he acted. His mind ran smoother when the options were more clear.

Smith turned this way, and that, trying to discern a proper path. As he did so, a stray beam of sunlight managed to break through the overhead canopy, lighting upon an object half-obscured by fallen leaves nearby. The glint of metal startled Smith at first, and for a brief instant he considered the possibility that it might be a bomb, or some other sort of trap. Then his recall protocols remembered that the hologram had promised him a weapon to assist in his mission.

The program stepped forward and retrieved his gift from the forest floor. His hand found familiar contours in its grip and a slight smile crossed Smith's lips as he held it before him. A bit ungainly, perhaps, but it would do. Yes... it would do nicely.

After the Fight

Dashing through the trees like a madman, Smith's body operated on autopilot as his mind furiously worked over what had happened in that clearing. How? How had he been beaten back so effortlessly? And what was that... thing that had been fired at him? It-it couldn't have been... magic, could it? No... that was impossible. Magic did not exist within the Matrix. It was one of the things removed from the simulation in order to facilitate the human's acceptance of it. The creature who had launched that bolt of energy must have had some hidden weapon that Smith had missed in his initial assessment of the situation. It was the only plausible explanation.

The creature itself was an oddity as well. Smith couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen it before, but he couldn't recall ever meeting an anthromorphic mouse in his past duties. And the fact it even existed was even stranger. Was it a program, like himself? If so, what sort of purpose could it possibly have? It was a threat to the stability of the Matrix.

Growling in frustration, Smith came to a halt against a large oak and looked back the way he had come. Moments passed as he scanned the trees for a sign of pursuit, and once he was satisfied that he was not being followed, his mind returned to thoughts of the battle.

How could he have miscalculated so grievously? Yes, there had been two of them, but Smith had studied them thoroughly through the trees before he had made his move. They were weak. With his skills, they should have been easy prey, taken out so as to thin out the herd of prospective victors for this game. When he had made his move, he had definitely had the upper hand as well. Had they acted logically, Smith would have ended their processes right there in the clearing. But first the mouse had pushed the woman away from Smith's attack, a self-sacrificial move only the noblest of humans were capable of. Why would a program choose to risk itself for another?

Even more confusing, after taking a small wound from Smith's sizable weapon, the woman had launched himself at him. It was instantaneous, acted upon by instinct, and completely illogical. Any sane being would have tried to escape after narrowly avoiding that killing shot. Smith spat to the side, the gleaming white of a tooth within the bloody spittle. And to think she could actually injure him with such a mundane tool. Inconceivable.

The Ex-Agent sighed, and turned away from the path back to the clearing. It seemed as though he would need to exercise greater caution in the future. Smith shook his head solemnly and moved off.

[Minato Namikaze]

Minato put his weapon back in his pocket. He had only had a fraction of a second to learn how to use it, and it packed a punch. However, it made the strangest of sounds. He sighed as he and Kakashi sat in a small clearing in the grass. Their battle with that strange man had been short, but it had left him with a stinging sensation in his left arm. On top of that, he was getting hungry. The blonde looked around, the grass looked sturdy enough to weave into some sort of rope. There was also a berry bush nearby, he didn't recognize the plant so he didn't trust it enough to eat for himself, but he had seen some animals running around and figured he could lure something into a trap with them.

'There we go' The blonde man stated as he placed some of the dark red berries at the center of a snare. He'd seem some rabbits moving around while he had been constructing the thing, so he assumed that they would be his best bet. Minato took a couple steps back from his snare, sitting with Kakashi as the two eyed the trap carefully. Watching and waiting for their breakfast to come along.

'How long do you think it'll take?' Kakashi whispered.

'I don't know. How smart do you think these Rabbits are?' Minato responded.

'I don't know.' Kakashi replied. Neither of the two had taken their eye's off of the trap as they spoke to each other.

Their eyes lit up with excitement as one of the rabbits that had been passing by finally decided to investigate. It's nose twitching as it sniffed at the ground around the berries. They didn't say anything, because they didn't want to scare their meal away, but the look on their faces told all. They wanted the rabbit to take the bait, and it did. The grass rope sprung into action, snaring the rabbit by it's throat. Kakashi rushed over and yanked it from the ground, giving it a quick death as he did so.

'Okay! So… How do we skin it?' Minato asked as his voice transitioned from happy to puzzled as he realized that he didn't have a knife on him. Kakashi stared back at him, a disappointed look in his eyes.

'I don't know... I threw a large rock at that guy from earlier, maybe piece of it broke off…?' Kakashi responded.

'Okay, you look for the… sharp rock… and I'll get a fire going.' Minato responded, holding back his laughter as he began gathering small sticks and leaves. Kakashi didn't appreciate his mentor's teasing, but they did need a way to skin the rabbit before cooking it.

Their fire cracked lightly, letting off a small chimney of smoke as the two shinobi ate the pieces of cooked rabbit. It wasn't the best tasting meat in the world, but it would do. It also meant that they wouldn't be running on an empty stomach, for now, at least.

[Link]

And there it was. The ruins of an ancient city, all roads leading into a central coliseum. The young hero wandered the paths for what seemed like hours, spurred on by a faint, pulsating aura that invaded his senses, dragging him closer and closer towards the source. The boy moved with efficient grace, keeping a low profile, all the while leaving no stone unturned as he grazed through the city in search of the unknown entity. The sheer nervous anticipation threw Link’s stomach into a roiling mess. Butterflies, of what felt like steel, clanked around in the pit of his stomach causing the blond to contort his features into yet another grimace.

His left hand remained clamped around the strange cube he had hidden beneath the folds of his tunic, something that for whatever reason gave Link a small sense of security and confidence, despite the unknown nature of the item. The sun had just began cresting over the towering stature of the coliseum, painting long shadows of the forlorn city, cracked stones tumbling from their ancient resting place and wide vines blew in the early morning wind. It was a strange feeling, really, but a familiar one. The ominous entity looming in the distance as the Hylian figured his way around the puzzle that hid its presence. This strange familiarity left the Hero of Time torn between excitement and dread. He knew some way down the line he’d end up finding someone, or something, and said being would be all too unhappy to see him and guard it’s treasure viciously. But, by this point, Link considered himself an expert plunderer. He’d done this many times, vague memories of other worlds and challenges sprung to mind, some of which did not feel like his own, but that would have to be left for consideration another time, he had a far more pressing matter at hand.

Nothing. The city itself held no sign or source of this strange, pulsating aura and so he took to the paths that lead him out of the city, to the opposite side to which he had entered. He wandered alongside a large wall that kept him hidden from view from outside of the city, trailing his fingers along the ancient, hieroglyph engraved stones, his gaze rarely straying from the decrepit, worn rocks. While he was unaware of the hieroglyphs meaning, he felt sure that a more primitive society had prospered within these walls. The boy allowed himself a vague smile as he traipsed the outskirts of the city.

An almighty THWUMP dragged Link to his senses once again, his absentminded wandering and tracing of hieroglyphs and forced one of the ancient stones free from its holding and into the ground before it. Link panicked. He rushed around the wall to where the stone now lay and groaned as he stooped to heave the stone back into place. Typically, his conservative nature had gotten the better of him and opened him wide up for an attack from someone who had been lurking, unseen or heard, nearby.

Thankfully, for the bumbling fool of a hero at least, this person was a friend. "Well, what are the odds?" the psychic spoke, "I believe that we were in the middle of something." he wandered towards the green-clad teen, hand outstretched, a grin plastered across his features. Were it not for his current hunched position, hands clamped around a rock that rested on his thighs as he attempted to haul said rock back into place, the boy would have shaken his hand. He shoved the rock back into place with an awkward chuckle and dusted his hands off on his tunic.

“You scared me,” Link breathed a sigh of relief as he reached to grasp Erik’s hand firmly and give it a shake, “Can you feel that pulsing?” Link spoke once again before setting off in a hurried manner, as if searching around. The psychic stood, dumbstruck for a moment, as the Hylian began sifting through rocks and grass alike in his search for the aura that pulsated through his very being. He was close. Very close and it was driving his wild. He must find the source. The teen peered back at his newfound ally and called out, “You coming or what?”

[Erik Vrell]

Erik felt a welcome burst of relief when Link reached over and shook his hand. It meant that he wasn't alone here, which was one of Eriks burdens lifted. The Hylian seemed to be looking for something, although Erik couldn't quite tell what. Erik cocked his head and closed his eyes, trying his best to sense the pulsing Link had mentioned. At first there was nothing, but then he heard it. Thwump. It was faint at first, barely audible to the psychic, but as Erik drew closer to where Link was searching it grew louder and louder. It was far from cacophonous, but it still had volume to it.
"I think I can feel it..." Erik said, somewhat unsure of himself. He quickly crouched down and starting searching like Link was. Erik had no idea what he was looking for, but knew he would be able to tell when he found it. For a battle to put an ancient hero to rest, this contest had an unusual amount of scrounging through leaf litter.

While searching, Erik could only wonder about the relics. What would they look like? Would he know when he had found one? Would there be something guarding them? That last thought sent a feeling of dread surging through Erik. He hadn't considered that the relics would be guarded. Images of hulking monstrosities obliterating monasteries in Erik's home verse sent shivers down his spine. If he couldn't defeat them with a sword back home, how could he defeat one with a stick? Erik noticed that he had started to hyperventilate so he did his best to clear his mind.
"It's going to be ok, Erik." He silently told himself. "You're fine." Erik did his best to push giant abominations from his mind and focus on the task at hand.

After looking through the piles of leaves for another half hour or so, the pulsing was mockingly close but Erik was starting to think he'd never find the source. Just as Erik opened his mouth to say that he was giving up, Link spoke up.
"I've found something!" The Hylian cried as Erik scrambled over to get a look.

[The Spirit]

CHALLENGE
CENOBIA VS. LINK, ERIK

Covered in stone plates, this bull-like creature glares at you from behind an Aztec-styled stone mask. Tufts of dark green fur peak out from underneath its protective casing of angled stone. With a silent charge the beast crashes through a large stone pillar, scattering debris across the cobblestone street. The guardian stands still, ready to rush any prime foolish enough to get close. Strapped upon its back is a gleaming breastplate, no doubt the armor worn by the Hero Tuecer...

Erik and Link have challenge the Guardian Cenobia and cannot post unless it is a reply to said challenge.
You have 24 hours to reply since you have not indicated you don't want to opt out
Link's Mario Box rolled- 5 and received "Iron Man Gloves"
Difficulty of Guardian- 4

[Clownpiece]

Detritus and undergrowth crunched beneath Somerled’s unchanging tread, his stride effortlessly snapping the low-lying bushes in his path. The once active forest critters had grown silent with the monster’s inexorable plodding. He had intruded upon their space and now they all had retreated for now. This, of course, was of little concern to him, noises wouldn’t make the monotonous brown groves any less constant. Only walking would eventually see him out of here. And so his gait continued, constant and uneventful. Step by step by step.

Falling into a walking trance, the crackling of the storm spirit’s rhythmic steps became unnoticed by him, the branches and thorns of the shrubbery tearing at his jacket ignored. Perhaps he should be paying attention to the scenery around him, try and keep an eye peeled for wherever these relics could be hiding, but Somerled had spent far too much of his life wandering from place to place. Uneventful walks were second nature now, and such a trance was becoming harder to prevent.

“Somerled!”

Jolted out of tedium by a shout, the monster’s path became uncertain, and his legs tangled up with the underbrush. Just barely saving himself from eating the forest floor, the spirit had come to a complete stop, and quickly shot his head up towards the familiar voice.

“It’s Amaterasu, over here!”

Lo and behold, not too far away from him, stood the sun goddess in all her bright glory, beckoning to him without a care for who might notice. Now this was some next level probability fuckery. Everyone was likely strewn randomly about the area, and somehow he and the great kami there were within an hour’s walk of each other.

Forcefully disentangling his leg from the bush, which damn near ripped the greenery out of the ground, and did a number on his pants, and probably his leg too, Somerled made his way quickly over to Amaterasu, the two meeting halfway. Both of them coming to a stop, the sun goddess cast her gaze around the immediate vicinity, perhaps now aware that someone decidedly unfriendly could be out looking for a quick kill.

I don't know if staying near the temple is a good idea now that everyone is still nearby. We should head elsewhere.

Considering everyone’s propensity for throwing people around haphazardly like discount confetti, the monster doubted that any were still here. Though given the fact that they had somehow ended up in walking distance of each other, it was still a valid concern. “Where would that be?” he asked. There were a lot of places to wander to and he hadn’t seen the outside of this fucking forest. Whatever landmarks there were out there would go unknown to him for now.

“There's some big mountain there...” Amaterasu pointed to the general direction Somerled had been trudging towards, explaining how that’d be a good location for a relic. Having not seen what she was talking about firsthand, the storm spirit just accepted her words at face value, and the two began their walk.

---

The forest around the duo slowly began to shrink away as they continued on their path, the once enormous brown trunks slimming down to a more reasonable size. With the thicket thinning out, the walk became easier. Less branches tore at their clothes and legs, and their tread sped up.

"You haven't told me by the way... do you wish to compete for the big prize?” Amaterasu’s voice broke the silence born of their boring walk. It was a question she had asked a few times by now, and Somerled thought he had given an answer. He was twisty with his words by nature, however, so it wouldn’t surprise him if he had accidentally given a non-answer a few times. He really needed to stop making Sonny do all the socialization and diplomacy. His inexperience was really starting to show.

“I’m mainly in it to help Teucer,” he responded, so far not taking the twisting path. “While I won’t deny the relic would be useful, making him one again is my main goal. Being split is a hellish fate. I would-” His sentence cut off abruptly, finishing it might bring him to dangerous territory. He would know. Having your very being split apart, you didn’t feel like you after. Thoughts that would once grace your mind freely just don’t come any more. Decisions you used to make on a whim stop occurring to you. Debates that used to happen inside the comfort of his own mind now became very real and punchy.

Before Somerled could interrupt his own train of thought, trying to get away from it, the voice of Teucer boomed out of nowhere. Thankfully, that did the job just the same as his own voice would have. The old hero warned what was probably everyone on the island about flooding. The monster doubted that it would affect him and Amaterasu at all, given that they were in the forest and not on the coast, but it was still a nice thing to warn about. Tides could be a bitch. It also looked like someone had already found a relic.

“Looks like we need to pick up the pace!” Somerled half-joked, a bright smile on his face. It didn’t matter how many relics they found, just as long as they were all found.

[Simon]

Looking back on it, the victorious hunter almost felt a little sorry for whipping up the fellow champion; the kid had looked nearly straight plucked out of high school, and wielded only a slingshot as a weapon. That being said, judging a character by their looks never turned out well, and Dante had a feeling the young adult's character was less than desirable, so to speak. Or maybe he was wrong, and the nephilim just condemned a simple lone student to death's doorstep.

He swallowed the phlegm in his throat. Maybe it would be best not to dwell on that.

As Rebellion faded away in a prismatic glower, Dante grabbed one end of the decoy box with his newly-freed hand and tipped it up. The rocks spilled out of the cardboard container, the bottom-most few remaining having to be shaken free onto the pile. Guess this thing had managed to make itself useful after all, even if it was just as little more than a deadweight distraction. Dante made a more important discovery, however, in the prior brief summoning of his personal broadsword.

Up until a moment before, the Son of Sparda sourly confided in the idea that this world stood outside of Omni's effective realms. In that moment, however, when he endeavored to draw power from within himself rather than from thought alone, such limitations appeared to cease temporarily. That knowledge provided itself as a potential game-changer, and it gave Dante a new sense of security, in some fashion. While he had never quite ever been a major fan of his demonic half, one could not deny the sheer rebound of fate that the Devil Trigger was capable of granting in spades - if nothing else, the power served well as a lest resort.

Those reserves of inner power felt greater here, too, the hellish magic flowing through his veins in subtly greater volume. Could this be the single benefit of this world, a blessing of raw energy? With that at his disposal, the half-blood could use it much more than defense...

Ah, the Hollow creeping in his forefront again.

Stopping himself quickly, Dante forced his mind to go blank in an attempt to shut down the wicked spirit's offense. A clever and valiant strategy, in his head- but the Hollow was sharing that head, and only seemed to become agitated at the silence. The possessed hunter's body became more twitchy and attention defect, the primal instincts trying to wrest for control.

In a less-logical and seemingly random thought, Dante urged himself into the open box again, as if the empty package might provide sanctuary. Three minutes of huddling later, and it seemed like that exact case had been provided.

...it only made the box even more stupid, he swore.

---

Thirty-five minutes later, Dante finished off some tough, tasteless strips of dried meat raided from the storeroom of the ancient Coliseum. As it happened, he was in that exact same position in that exact same box.

Nope. Still stupid. Pretty sure.

[Jak Mar]

The giant mountains with the snow caps generally made Jak more annoyed as he found himself pacing a bit more than usual. But something annoying had at least picked at his mind at least bothering to help the green blonde haired hero. His dark side actually took the time to give a shit. Instead of the usual nightmares, Jak's demon side had finally noticed that he needed Jak to survive because he was part of him. True, Jak's Light side took part of Jak's body however maybe actually helping the man would help everyone to survive this mess that Jak decided was a noble quest to save a needy spirit.

Jak's demon side picked at the man's head..

"Hey, Jak... "You want some much needed help?"

I promise i won't mess with your body this time...

"Jak frowned, why the hell should i trust you."

"Because it's essential we all stick together in this mess, because without me or light you would be in the same circle you were years ago.."

Jak had to think about the problem for a second and nodded, he was only going to use his powers as a last resort but his dark side was strangely right, he had to trust the demon inside into survive. The demon probably had killed millions, but hell if it was going to help, then hell Jak would take all the help it can get, along with his light side.

"Find some food, Jak... don't let yourself starve..."

It would be a shame if all of us died because you forgot to feed your frail human body.

Jak was already moving in the forest areas searching for fresh food.

[Red]

The swordsman lumbered through the forest, hardly maintaining Teucer's weapon under his trench-coat; every few meters it would slip from under his armpit, and peak out from the bottom of his coat, forcing him to reconfigure its position like a thief smuggling booze from a bar.

Trunks wished his weapon came with a strap, or holster. Sarcastically, he brushed it aside with the assumption that such powers were outside of the spirit's capabilities (teleportation, no problem; glowing blue, piece of cake; providing accommodations, too difficult).

The terrain exasperated his sluggishness. It was ravaged by quick slopes and pothole sized grooves, which acned the ground under a facade of tangled, mid-length grass. Trunks took his steps carefully, hesitant to press down his heels until he confirmed the surface as firm.

Not much light pierced through the thick canopy of treetops, but the rays persistent enough shot fragments of bleach-yellow against the earth, dancing on-cue to the trembling leaves above. To the swordsman's trained mind, the shade of yellow indicated a rough estimate of the time; bleach-yellow meant it was late-morning, just before midday.

At the snail's pace Trunks currently traveled, getting anywhere substantial would take the entire day, maybe longer. He tried to fly earlier, but to no avail; ever since arriving to the Omniverse, nothing involving Ki has worked properly (was it because of the Omnilium lodged into him, or because of the rubix-cube physics?). The only thing accomplished from focusing his energy was a rush of fatigue, and then vertigo. It reminded him of revving an engine only to feel it sputter out at half RPM.

It was frustrating, and tiring. Soon, the swordsman would have to forage for necessities. It was something he had grown accustomed to as a child, but became a chore happily deleted from his life after the androids were destroyed.

The next few hours were uneventful. Trunks walked; he stayed alert for surprise craters hidden under the grass; he stopped a few times to rest his weapon, and rub the ache under his arm that it left; he kept notice of the light breaking through the canopy, and its changes—still not midday . . . yet. The only remarkable incident had to do with an aggravated turtle.

Around an hour into his journey, his foot landed awkwardly on a mound jutting out of the ground. The swordsman saw it coming, but treated it as a rock, and tried to slide his foot over the top of it while strangling his coat around his weapon to adjust it.

His heel caught the rear of it, and a dry croak ripped through the whispers of squished grass. The sound startled Trunks, nearly sending him wheel-barreling, but he caught balance as his trailing leg went forward. Before he could realize what he had stepped on, a sharp pinch nipped at his calf.

The swordsman yelped, and immediately jolted his leg up as if he jammed his toe. He hopped around wildly, constricting his fresh wound with his left hand. With the right hand, he kept his weapon tucked under the armpit. It felt like a he had been snipped by bladed tongs. He swiveled around while hopping to see what the hell had just attacked him, sending his glare over to the mound.

Except it wasn't a mound, it was a turtle—a pissed snapping turtle, tattooed with Trunks' footprint on its crown. The amniote growled, and stretched its limbs out from its brown shell.

The swordsman hastily showed remorse; it was never his intention to disturb any wildlife. “Sorry, little dude,” he said, putting his foot back down.

The turtle's demeanor didn't falter. With a sound relative to clicking noises, the amniote snapped its beak-like jaw repetitively, and began to progress towards the swordsman.

“Take it easy there, buddy. It was a mistake.”

The turtle ignored the apologies, and continued to approach Trunks, catching an uncanny pace as it accelerated. Its eyes glossed with determination as it drew closer, and the jawing stopped.

“If you don't stop I'm gonna have to defend myself,” the swordsman warned.

His sympathy dissolved from the heat of feeling threatened, and he retracted his uninjured leg back to his buttock. The turtle didn't stop. It took a lunge for Trunks' foot, and opened its mouth wide. The swordsman cranked his leg forward, and with a thud, punted the amniote into a clutter of shrubbery.

[Kakashi Hatake]

The shinobi twosome sat by their fire, munching silently on slightly charred rabbit. They had only recently ended their quarrel with the mysterious blonde man, managing to ward him off with the gifts Teucer had left for them. The copy ninja couldn’t help but wonder if he had been too impulsive in his reaction; Minato had approached the man with diplomatic intent, it had been Kakashi who had (quite literally) thrown the first stone. He had seen his target drawing a blade against Minato and had responded at once in defense of his mentor’s safety. Perhaps if he had remained calm as he had learned in the academy, Minato would not have been harmed in the ensuing scuffle. Then again, he had seen time and time again that hesitation could easily lead to an untimely death.

Kakashi presently finished his haunch, dropping the tiny bones and pieces of cartilage into the fire. He sat silently, watching the flames gently lick at the tinder they had gathered. Daylight was slowly slipping away and they had yet to make any progress on their quest. The copy ninja thought back to Teucer’s plea for help and with it, the enigmatic future-teller that they had met in the temple. He cast a sidelong gaze at his partner as he remembered her tale, of he becoming the Sixth Hokage and of Minato harboring the Demon Fox.

“What’s the matter, Kakashi?”

The scarecrow met the Kage’s gaze, remaining silent for a beat. “Nothing. Just thinking,” he said finally.

“I know you well enough to see that you’ve got something on your mind,” Minato stated, finishing the last of his rabbit. “What is it?”

The silver-haired shinobi sighed, slouching forward slightly. “I’m just thinking back to what that kunoichi said back at the temple. She knew about both of us, our secrets.”

“Yes,” the blonde ninja replied with a light chuckle. “Sorry you had to find out about mine like that. I haven’t really had much time to adjust.”

Kakashi nodded solemnly. He wasn’t terribly thrilled to have his own secret spilled like that either. Though Minato had never been anything but supportive of his protege, the copy ninja always had an inkling that the Kage held some sort of contempt for him. In one way or another, Kakashi’s actions had lead to the untimely death of both other members of Minato's squad.

“This Mangekyou…” Minato recalled, scratching his chin. “It has to do with what happened to Rin, doesn’t it?”

He couldn’t avoid the question for any longer. Even if he wanted to, it wouldn’t be fair to Rin and Obito. “It started to appear in the days after the incident. I would lose control of my emotions on a mission and Obito’s..err, my,” he corrected, “sharingan would change. I didn’t understand why for a long time. Eventually I was able to sneak into Lord Third’s archive and find information on the Uchiha clan’s techniques: The Mangekyou Sharingan...it only appears in those that have...killed their closest friend.” He spoke the final words in one breath, as if letting them grace his lips for too long would poison him.

The blonde shinobi nodded sagely, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s quite a burden, Kakashi, to be reminded of that day so often. I never knew.”

“I have never told anyone,” Kakashi replied. “But when it emerges...something happens. It's almost as if...right where I am focusing my eyes, a void appears. Anything near it would be sucked in, disappearing into nothingness.”

“Wow,” Minato said, raising his eyebrows. “That’s quite a formidable technique.”

“Yes,” Kakashi agreed. “But I have no control over it. On more than one occasion I've almost harmed a comrade with its power. And now this girl, she knew all about it. If she’s from the future, that means that I used it again. What if I did something terrible with it?”

“She also said that you became Hokage, Kakashi,” Minato corrected. “That means that whatever you did was for the good of the village.”

For the good of the village. He had heard those words in his mind on the nights he lay awake, unable to shake reminders of that day. “That’s what Rin said before she…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t.

“Rin was right, Kakashi,” the fair-haired ninja repled. “She knew that Kiri had put the Three-Tailed Beast within her. She died protecting our village. Even if by some miracle we could could have kept the enemy ninja from releasing the beast from her, there would have been no way to save her. Even with all of the advanced techniques we had access to, the extraction process kills the host. Even Kushina...” Minato trailed off, shifting his attention to the fire.

The scarecrow sighed, turning his gaze to the ground. “I’m sorry to have brought it up. I forget that I’m not the only person affected by these monsters.” When it came down to it, he knew that his mentor was correct. The trigram seal was clearly visible on Rin’s corpse, a dead giveaway of what was buried inside her. “I just would rather not have another person die because of a tailed beast.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Kakashi,” Minato said, turning back to his former student. “I can deal with this thing. I’m the Fourth Hokage, remember?” he finished with a grin.

As his former sensei spoke those words, realization swept over Kakashi. The silver-haired jonin locked eyes with the Kage, determination etched in his brow. “Sensei, it it’s the last thing I do, I will free you of that beast. If I have to track down Omni himself, I’ll make sure it’s done.”

The flaxen haired shinobi could only smirk in response to his companion's declaration. His face did not betray his thoughts; Kakashi could only hope that Minato would would trust his former student, the one known through Konoha as the ‘Friend-Killer’.

A silence hung over the duo for a moment before the fair-haired ninja spoke up, “Well,” he said finally. “Let’s not worry too much about that now, hmm? We’ve got a mission to complete.”

[Amaterasu]

“Looks like we need to pick up the pace!”

"I guess so. Although I can't see any incoming flood far and wide, or even any sea." She double-checked however and, seeing no incoming tidal wave, calmed back down. "I would rather take a bite after we cover some distance, though. Who knows if we'll get the chance for that again."

Hours passed as they walked, getting from one strip of forest to the next. It was much slower than just covering ground out in the open, but it did protect them from people running into them. She felt like several of the people, including even the more humanlike individuals, were out for blood - to eliminate competition before they could get in the way. And what was worse, she wasn't even armed. Whilst following Somerled closely she kept an eye out for any potential ambush routes, trying her best to stay on guard, and looked about for a weapon. They were on an ancient battleground, right? Warlock must have made some serious cleaning-up if there was not a single rusty sword to be found far and wide. She muttered something under her breath about bad luck. She wanted to help Hero Teucer, but how could she do so if she had no means to gain the relics he needed?

Eventually a grumble from both their stomachs coming almost simultaneously made Amaterasu purse her lips, and she reached out to poke Somerled's arm. "Hey... I think it's best if we use the time while we're still in the forest to find something to eat. I'll go forage for roots and berries over that way, is that alright?" she offered, vaguely pointing into the forest. "I came through a number of thickets before finding you, I saw that there's fruit which might be tasty. I'll try to save some for you, okay?"

When Somerled agreed to take a hunting moment Amaterasu headed out and slid into the thicket. Gathering berries, roots, fruit, edible tree bark and a handful of insects which looked disgusting but actually didn't taste all that bad was the least of her problems. There might be animals or people... the place was almost too good for an ambush. A rustling in a bush caused her to stumble backwards and give a high-pitched shriek, and she tripped over something hard. Moments later she was on her rump, beneath something a little softer, with a good part of her gathered provisions dropped. She was thankful for the miko dress and its wide sleeves which had caught at least some of the stuff. The rustling turned out to be a simple rabbit that was as afraid of her as she had been of it - it hopped away and disappeared among the trees very quickly.

Now what had she tripped over? And what... what was the soft thing beneath her that she had landed on? She got up, turned around and...

... gasped. A corpse, surprisingly well preserved but stripped of its armor, was lying in the forest, semi buried underneath moss and rocks, staring up at her out of empty eye sockets. Another poor soul that had not been given a proper burial?! She couldn't allow for this. Not caring about that Somerled was probably waiting, she grabbed a large rock and put it behind the skull, then covered the fractured bone in moss, twigs and more rocks until it was rudimentarily buried. Just as she was placing a handful of sticks to make a makeshift symbol to guide the poor soul to the River Sanzu so that it may enter the Afterlife, she realized that it was missing an arm. Had it been chopped off in battle? She turned, and found the limb in question with a clear trace of foot on it. So that was what she had tripped over. She picked it up and was about to lay it next to the grave when she realized how well preserved and hard it was. It sure didn't match a proper weapon, but... well, it could be used as a blunt weapon, or to keep a sharp blade from digging into her own body.

"Warrior, I beg of you, assist me on this day... I wish you no ill, but I will need your limb so that you may aid me in battle, but only for a time. Know that your sacrifice will aid me in aiding others, so in death you fulfill your destiny in protecting the weak from the strong. Your spirit can move past this plane with no regrets." She muttered, then plucked a handful of reeds and made an improvised belt to hang the arm onto her waist with. She must look like an idiot now... Somerled might laugh. But, so long as it worked, it was okay. Now where was her friend...? She moved out of the forest, eating what provisions she had gathered to sate her growling stomach, and looked around.