Day 2 Morning

[Proto Man]

To be sure, Proto Man felt something akin to fatigue as the group constructed their camp. Since none of them had any real experience, they had wound up ‘winging it,’ which the robot quickly learned had nothing to do with feathered appendages.

Once the fire, fueled by the pages of Mickey’s magazine, started to burn, the group settled into a silence that eventually ushered them into sleep.

Most of them, at least…

Proto Man sat on a log near the edge of camp, his eyes staring at the emptiness on the horizon. Next to his impromptu bench, his helmet rested on the soft grass. Without access to his usual systems, he had no way to adjust the tint of the visor to compensate for the lack of sunlight. Once the sun was gone, the robot had come to the quick realization that he couldn’t see while he wore the headgear.

While there were a few mountains still clinging to their existence on the edge of the vacuum, the majority of the range had been swallowed up into the void. Had their trio been a few steps too slower, what would have happened to them? Had those tons of rock been taken someplace else? Or had they simply been reduced to nothing?

While he knew that primes had a degree of immortality, Proto Man didn’t want to know what it felt like to be scrubbed from existence.

As he stared at the altered landscape, the robot felt the adrenaline of the last few hours start to leave him. The rush of the fights, the earrings, and the descent from the mountain now started to abate, leaving nothing but cold, fatigue, and a profound emptiness not unlike that left behind by the swallowed portion of the island.

He’d suffered injuries before—substantial injuries. His disastrous journey to the Ashen Plains Steppes had ended in critical damage to all of his supplemental system and most of his integral systems. Looking back, he was still unsure how he’d managed to will his shattered, mangled form across those infernal plains and into the Tangled Green.

What he felt know was a different form of damage. He felt these tiny aches and pains all over his body, and unlike his previous scuffles, he knew he couldn’t reroute power or manually fix the damage. The wound in his shoulder had scabbed over a couple hours ago, but it still radiated heat and caused him discomfort whenever he flexed the joint. Part of him had hoped that the earrings would have been unaffected, so he could have spent the remainder of his time lost in the swirl of consciousnesses that was the Proto Mouse.

Surely that would have been preferable to what he felt now.

Pain.

Fatigue.

Cold.

Hunger.

…Fear?

Sliding off of his makeshift bench, Proto Man took a few steps away from the log and placed a hand on his stomach. He’d eaten before, but he’d done so because he’d opted to do so. Now there was no choice: He knew if he didn’t find food, he’d suffer some sort of consequence. The memories were foggy, but he’d seen enough malnourished or starving people in his lifetime to understand that he didn’t want their fate.

Like the Copper Eye?

That particular memory was painfully fresh in the android’s altered mind, and he knew that he’d never be rid of it, even if he purged all of his storage drives. There was no way he’d ever forget the image of those dirty, emaciated refugees being gunned down like vermin by Judge Dredd and his marines.

Despite the years that had passed since he’d last seen Coruscant, Proto Man had never forgiven the helmeted man’s actions, but in some weird way, he was glad he’d been exposed to that. When compared to Dredd’s actions, the deeds of individuals like Scylla, Gilgamesh, and this ‘warlock’ that haunted Teucer and the island seemed laughably mild.

Gilgamesh…

Although his time as the Proto Mouse was blurred, the preteen machine could vividly recall that particular experience. The tyrant’s words were still burned into his mind, much like the deeds of Judge Dredd.

‘I tend to take care of my property.’

The sociopath had deserved the justice served to him. With any luck, a stint in Omniverse prison would serve to make him a better person.

And if it didn’t… Proto Man would be there to slap on the handcuffs once again.

The machine had wandered away from the camp by the time his thoughts moved back to the outside world. A glance over his shoulder showed their paltry campfire as a small flicker of yellow and orange. In front of Proto Man was a small copse, but it was the little bush that had drawn him from the perimeter of the camp.

Putting aside the unpleasant thoughts of Gilgamesh and the other terrors of the Omniverse, the red robot squatted down next to the bush. Whatever the berries were, they gave off an aroma that he found quite… pleasant. A smile spread across his visage as he reached out and plucked one of them from its tiny little stem. He brought it up to his face and smiled faintly as he examined it to make sure it didn’t look wrong. The bright red fruit was a bunch of squishy spheres clumped together in a little hollow cone. It didn’t have that strong a smell until Proto Man squeezed it a little bit, causing a few of the little segments to leech out juice.

So this is a redberry, then?

He had trouble remembering, but Proto Man was quite certain that most tiny fruits were named after their color. That didn’t seem like a very original way to handle classification, but the machine guessed that plant scientists were probably lazy people anyway.

Although a little nagging voice in his head tried to point out the possibility that the fruit could be poisonous, the android tossed it back into his mouth. There was a strange moment when the berry sat on his tongue, but then he smashed it between his molars and flashed a juice-stained smile as he relished how sweet it tasted. Even though parts of the mashed corpse were still clinging to his teeth, Proto Man reached forward and plucked a few more berries.

By the time the bush was mostly devoid of its bounty, the preteen machine’s lips and chin were stained red with juice. As he stood up, he felt another twisting in his stomach, but unlike before, this one didn’t have anything to do with lack of food.

“Ugh, why’s it hurt?” Proto Man groaned as he placed a hand over his mouth. He was supposed to eat, wasn’t he?

Then why did he feel worse?

With a frown that made the taste of the sweet fruit seem like a distant memory, the machine made his way back to their camp. Each step he took, he could almost feel the contents of his stomach—did he have a stomach?—sloshing back and forth, but despite the discomfort, he made it back without doubling over.

When he returned to his log, he scooped up his helmet and put it over his head, and unlike before, he felt a certain degree of security in the blindness of the helmet.

Without returning to his little sleeping area, the machine gingerly slid down to the ground and drifted into an uncomfortable and unrewarding sleep.

***

In the morning, Proto Man awoke to see Belle already upright near the dead fire. The redhead was scowling at the makeshift bandage around her leg. Despite the high quality nature of the paper, the nature of their journey had worn out the magazine sheets. Although blood had seeped through in some places, it seemed to have dried a while ago, which gave Proto Man some comfort.

“I think you need to change your bandage,” Proto Man muttered as he stood up and walked over to the girl.

Belle nodded as she itched a little at the edge of the ‘wrapping.’ “With what, some leaves?” She asked as she glanced at the copse and scowled.

“Here,” Proto Man muttered as he undid the yellow scarf around his neck. “Now that the bleeding is done, this should make for a better wrap than crinkled pictures of naked women.”

The redhead grinned as she accepted the scarf and started to peel away the pages of Playboy. Despite a history of violence, Proto Man didn’t feel like seeing the injury concealed by those glossy pictures. With a final smile, he stood up and moved to take care of the fire.

When Mickey awoke, the group packed up their possessions and got ready to head further into the interior of the island. Amid the process, the mouse made a passing remark to avoid using his earrings.

“I, uh… maybe we should let Proto Mouse rest for a while.”

The remark took Proto Man a bit off-guard, but he could tell by the expression on Mickey’s face that it wasn’t a decision his friend had arrived at without a great deal of contemplation.

He didn’t agree, but the machine went along with the notion nevertheless. As Belle and Mickey got caught up, Proto Man went to retrieve the shield from what was now only the vaguest impression of a campsite on the grass. A quick conversation followed about whether or not they thought anyone else had relics, but all anyone could offer was speculation. The machine knew that their relic was linked to the vanished portion of the island, so if they wanted to find the truth to his question, they’d simply need to explore more of this strange place.

Before they left, Mickey brought up water. His magazine theorized that making a woman damp would heighten their chances of success in their endeavor…

Proto Man and Belle shared a look before nodding at a smiling Mickey, who held the open magazine out for both of them to see. After another glimpse, the pair let out a collective ‘ahh’ and once again nodded.

“Then let’s get going,” Belle said warmly as Mickey folded up the magazine and stuffed it into a pocket.

“On to victory!” Mickey added exuberantly as the threesome set off for wetter horizons.

[Orihime Inoue]

The warlocks nefarious grasp on the island was firmer than Orihime could have ever fathomed. Breathing in the faint ocean air felt toxic, her lungs ached with every heavy breath she managed to take. Chernobyl was once a nuclear power plant that exploded in a catastrophic disaster releasing radioactive chemicals into the atmosphere. Dark magic in the from a drizzly fog contaminated her body like radiation poisoning.

Nevertheless, she believed this experience was a test, to prove that she was strong. Orihime’s actions caused her feeling savage like a troll, questioning who she was. Every time she was forced to injure or kill, her entrails felt entwined in knots. As a result, she heard the words of her dear friend Zabajin echo in her ears “Don’t let yourself believe that what you feel is wrong.”

In many ways, the troll chief taught her how to fight, but more importantly, he taught her how to win. One of the things remembered from his teachings was to appreciate the feel, the sting, and the burn under her skin after every battle. The pictures came to life, opening her eyes, thinking that she must be dreaming.

Above all Orihime believed in mercy, standing resolutely which Zabajin, in equal measure loved and hated. Consequently, he told her that her heart was her mortal flaw but that Orihime was his fatal sin. Finally, she was starting to see what he knew was inside her along, that behind Orihime’s soft exterior lay a warrior.

“You really don’t know when to quit do you?” Victor raged, his hand reaching for his hat like the quick draw of a cowboy.

For this reason, when the assailant she had just defeated moments earlier stumbled from the bushes, his body flashed brightly with blood that Orihime stopped the impending assault from her allies.

Steadfast in front of assign the red haired girl stood her ground while the victim of her blade spat out substantial amounts of blood.

“I think the point has been made.” Orihime scolded while she stood resolute between the two enemies.

“He held a party to too much death and destruction. I can’t let you stand in my way of sweet revenge.” the cloaked man tempted while searching for a clear shot at the pointy-eared attacker.

“Look at him!” Orihime screamed, doing her best to hold back tears. Peering back at the man, slumped in agony while blood escaped a savage cut across his chest. “What honor would have defeating him? He can barely stand.” She pleaded, desperately searching the young ninja's eyes for support.

Granted, this man had attacked his moments earlier the shorter boy held back the heated assassin with his star wand in his hand. “She is right, this is not the place or time,” he concluded while he eyed the two blades attached to the hip of the one called Jak.

“If you can keep the dark creature at bay then you will have our protection for the time being. However if you try to attack this group again, I will end your miserable existence.” the boy warrior promised.

You could cut the awkwardness with a knife as the group of four warriors sat huddled closely together in front of a dimly lit fire. Usually in front of a campfire, the campers would exchange fond memories or ghostly tales. On the other hand, this whole fiasco was already the perfect setting for a horror movie. Spirits, guardians, weapons of mass destruction, that all pretty much covered the bases for a grisly tale. Besides the lack of conversation, the group sat and tore at the warm roasted flesh of goat while the fire danced light across their features. Grateful that she was able to sleep for the most part tonight as the 3 men decided on shifts to take watch throughout the night. Her eyes would not open again until the comforting warmth of dawn on her flesh cheeks.

[Amaterasu]

Amaterasu raised her arm and tore off a piece of her luxurious dress's sleeve, using the silk to bind off the worst of one of the defeated pair's bleedings and burns. About half of her sleeve was sacrificed to that, then she sacrificed the other half to do the same to the other one. Both kind of got to their feet, wonky and not looking good at all. They needed medical care, and fast. Her right arm was exposed as a result of tearing her dress, but honestly she couldn't care less. It wasn't as if it had provided her with any help or protection, and these two needed it more than she did. She kept her right arm, the injured one, covered up as she didn't want to reveal her injury. And after some thinking back and forth she took the severed arm back and returned the slingshot, as using it with one arm barely functional would not work out well.

"I don't like this rumbling sound. I really think we should go elsewhere, after what Hero Teucer told us... this might just be another of Warlock's schemes." She said, visibly worried and pulling Yuki and Erik along - if they followed, of course. Back in the general direction of the temple, where Link had also headed. Chances were that they were going to run into him again, or at least cross paths at SOME point. She didn't want that, though she realized that Somerled would. Her stomach was grumbling and she wanted to get food, but she realized that going for food now might just spell their doom.

"Somerled, listen." She told the other after a while of walking, away from the city. The rumbling was getting stronger and they had picked up a pace as a result of it, but seemingly weren't quite out of harm's way yet. "You want to go after that guy with the green clothes, right? The one with the relic. You know where I stand in all this, I don't want to win anything, and with those two I would be wearing you down even more. I think we should split up and meet back at the temple, you can go hunt for the relic if you want." She studied his reactions, but before there could be any reply a chunk of land broke away centimeters behind their heels, and the ground before them was cracking. Everything was falling away!

Amaterasu screamed and picked up her pace, to outrun the fissures along with Somerled and the two injured ones. One could just about shoot a dramatic slow-motion movie scene with it, as they ran as best as they could to outpace the forces of nature - or of the Warlock, in this case - and ended up doing a large leap to get to safety as the chunks of earth broke down beneath their feet. Miraculously, Erik and and Yuki were able to do the jump, whilst Amaterasu nearly fell and hung from the cliff. Could it be any more dramatic? With one arm barely functional she struggled to keep her grip with her left arm as Somerled approached. At least it seemed like they had just barely made it, there was no more land breaking away underneath their feet.

[Jak Mar]

Once again he could feel feelings of hatred burning at him as quickly as it was chewing on himself. Speaking of Mercy, he had allowed Daxter to do the one thing Victor deserved and it felt good. It showed that Daxter could change the way things could be done in the Omniverse and not let shit go unpunished. Once again, he'd let victor "win" and have his peace along with Sasuke who collectively almost made things worse between them.

Jak's flaming blue eyes moved onto Victor first. The blood was clear as day as Jak frowned as he reached for the swords on his hip.

Jak's hand placed the weapons back on the swords as he closed his eyes softly, was this all part of being a hero?

Sometimes you live just long enough to see yourself become the villain... sad but true.

The redhead was standing firm in front of both of them and Jak's blue eyes turned clear.

She had stopped them from killing the pointy eared hero AGAIN.

He gritted his teeth, and punched the ground in frustration.

He felt so weak, in front of what remained of New Babylon and now this?

Instead, he canned his anger in favor when the redhead named Oreiheime started crying. Even the shorter blue haired man stopped when she cried and let out a warning to Jak not to attack the group again

Three against one, the odds didn't stack up but he'd always been able to handle groups like this. This was different.

It was either take the blame for Daxter and cover his friend's mistakes and let these people mock him straight up.

Jak coughed "Why?!

"Why did you save me? Daxter was trying to protect me... There are always two sides to a story and this is my story.

He bent his head as he kept awake for the night with akwardness cutting like a butter knife "Dax... you did your best..

..
..
I would never forgive myself if you died.

You could hear him whispering under his breath as he covered the blood with his blood-red hankerchief. The color blended over the wounds.