Day 1 Morning

[The Spirit]

Teucer raises from his seat and looks upon his collection of heroes. His weary face looked a little brighter and a small smirk came to his face. His eternity of punishment was finally at an end. He would once be reunited with his family in paradise and his soul would finally be able to rest. He seemed to glow a brighter shade of blue than normal as he spoke.

“Heroes! I shall no longer delay you in your newfound quest! Go and defeat the evil guardians! You shall be rewarded handsomely when you return! I will assist you as much as I can, but I cannot leave this palace. You shall find any weaponry I can find when you land. Now go!”

Every person in the Temple suddenly vanished into a black hole before soon finding their place on the island. The warlock’s curse shall end soon.

Everyone is now distributed across the island randomly with their weapons. You see clouds gather in the sky ominously as you are spread across the island.

There is no upcoming weather events. Have fun

[Schwi Dola]

Here she was, the calm shady world was hers to explore! But Ururu wasn't around Desco, nobody was here. She stood on a seemingly empty road. The whole mood was somber. It was a little sad. Now that Desco was here she felt she didn't know what she was doing. This was just like Dante's Abyss, she was stuck in the middle of nowhere.

The young girl was holding a small thing in her hand. She held it up to get a closer look at it. This was starting to seem more like DA than before, but in DA she was given lightsabers which she shared with Mr. Rubberman. This little thing was more like a toy. She could throw it at people, but it wasn't nearly as cool as those lightsabers.

Thinking of DA and Luffy reminded the final boss of Guu and Luffy. They were in the Nexus before this to wait for Luffy. She felt a little bad for having abandoned Guu in the Nexus. She was probably still fighting now. Desco hadn't even defeated her opponent. Desco's eyes welled up a little and she sniffed. Guu worried about Desco too. Really, more than Desco worried about Guu. She shook her head quickly. "Desco is going to get that artifact for Guu!"

Desco rubbed her eyes and then clenched her fists, throwing one up into the air. She shouted with determination. "Be wary Heroes, bad guys, and everyone else in Desco's way! The Final Boss will get the prize! For Guu... and Big Sis!" Big Sis was always on her mind too, but Desco had no hopes of reuniting with Big Sis anytime soon. That hit her very deep, but she's had a lot of time to come to terms with it and now had Guu to rely on for emotional support. Her feelings for Big Sis were almost completely transferred to Guu for now, so that she didn't have to worry about Big Sis. She just needed to get stronger like she was before, and become the final boss that Big Sis needed.

Desco started to look around her environment. She was next to a road, and off in the distances she could see trees, giant tree that stuck out like a sore thumb in the landscape, and some big mounds, perhaps mountains! But she was on a road and roads usually went somewhere right? So she should follow the road, maybe she'll find one of theses relic locations. It might not be so easy as that, they could be in dungeons. That is what Desco would have done with them!

She started off towards the road. It was awkward at first. She had felt it before but the marble in the Spirit's temple was smooth. Her tentacles were walking on the ground, unable to float behind her. Desco could feel the roughness of the grass and dirt. The demon really just wanted to float through the sky. It would be safer in the sky for her to scout out the enemy.

Sudden pain. "Ow!" Desco stopped and brought the tentacle that hit something out. There was a rough scrape from a rock hidden in the grass. Desco frowned. A small injury like this shouldn't have bothered her, Daddy gave her a special injection that made her free from the effects of pain and injuries. She lost that too. It made her a little mad, Daddy had made that special just for Desco! The thoughts passed though and she got on the road. No rocks here.

[Link]

Falling. Again. ‘Surely, if this Teucer is so keen on these “champions” saving his soul, giving us an entry into this.. place with an entrance on the more stable side would be far more suitable,’ The blond teen’s inner dialogue began as he careened towards the cobblestoned ground of the seemingly fallen city nearby. As quickly as the sensation of falling came on, it disappeared, leaving Link kneeling, once again unscathed in yet another unknown area.

A quiet sigh followed by a despondent shake of his head escaped the Hero, a vague grimace contorting across his features as he surveyed the area. He’d landed on a cobblestone road that lead off towards a derelict city, long since inhabited, overgrown and reclaimed by nature. It almost reminded him of home, the Temple hidden within the Kokiri Forest, for that matter. A wave of nostalgia swept across the Hylian, reminiscing on his former life as he scanned his immediate surroundings. A brief gust of wind rushed past the boy as he took stock, bringing with it a cool humidity, laced with the unforgettable smell of nature; the scent of the wet moss combined with the familiar smell of damp clay in the earth, coupled with the aroma of decaying wood and leaves. Unfortunately, for Link at least, this coerced the already distracted teen into a somewhat deeper state of thought. He thought of his friends, Saria, Mido (to an extent), even the Great Deku Tree. Perhaps, if he were lucky enough, he might reach a place in this Omniverse that might just be close enough to home for him to stay a while.

“Nrgh..” The Blond groaned, dragging himself out of his stupor, “Focus up.. Got a job to do.” he reassigned himself as he moved to take a step, only to find himself distracted once again by an oddity, beaming a multitude of colours beside his foot. The cube was translucent yet shining from blue, to yellow, to red, each colour mingling with the other to create a rainbow within itself. The cube housed an ever moving question mark, floating within the myriad of colours. The boy quirked a perplexed brow, he’d never seen such an item before and it left him ill at ease. What was it and why was it here? What could it hold and how could he find out? Link shrugged lightly and bent down to pick the fluorescent cube up. Upon touching the cube, it began to shrink rapidly, fitting into the palm of his hand rather snuggly. He sighed and stuffed the odd cube into his tunic, hiding it from view for the time being, perhaps this was the weapon the Spirit spoke of, but what good would a shining cube do in the face of adversity?

Regardless, and with his new found weapon in tow, Link set off at a determined pace towards the fallen city, following along decrepit cobblestoned road off into the distance. Whether or not the Hylian had any inkling as to who or what this Spirit was, something stirred within him, only furthering his urge to save the forsakens soul, perhaps it was the dull itch of an imminent adventure looming over the horizon or simply curiosity, Link found himself spurred on in this somewhat blind quest. The green-garbed hero lifted his chin towards the sky, grimacing at the sight of the ominous clouds that lingered above.

“Let’s just hope there’s no rain, huh?” He spoke outloud, to himself, inwardly scolding his idiocy as he once again realised he was very much alone on this crumbling path. “Oh.. the joys.”

[Ada Wong]

Before he could even bat an eyelid, Crowley was transplanted somewhere entirely different.

The modest plateau of grassland around him was brokenly shaded by trees, a deep teal green haze freckling the ground with fleshy fungus growth rippling along its edges. A faint breeze passed through, sending henceforth dangling leaves to the forest floor in dainty helicopter twirls. Delicate little bells of color, youthful cups of downturned nectar yellow and powdery blue petals, rose out of the tangled undergrowth in vibrant pockets of flowers.

Breathing in deeply, Crowley turned his chin up towards the sky. Not a single distant speck of a bird careened across it. The sweet, lulling notes of birdsong were suspiciously sparse and faded in and out of his hearing. Somehow, this was a cause of concern for him— a silence so nearly all-consuming could never bode well. Almost like heaven, then, but not quite.

Distantly, he wondered how it was that a pair of blistering miscreants had deemed him fit to be tossed across dimensions like a loaded dice. He was really getting too old for this, had been for the past couple decades. It was too bad departure from The Work in hell was absolute shit— which is to say, as fictional as a bleedin’ prancing unicorn.

Somehow he had completely failed to notice the odd weight settled upon the ground beside his feet. Stooping and lifting it into his arms, Crowley squinted curiously down at the dimly glowing, dark metal-streamed weapon he had somehow obtained while hurtling through a pocket in space-time. It looked just like something out of a whackadoodle science fiction film, but unfortunately for him there were no attractive aliens hanging around for him to cozy up to.

Indistinct electronic swoops and drops emanated from the weapon’s sizzling, sicknasty core. Crowley turned it over in his hands before simply letting it hang limp on one arm, surmising that it must be the weapon Teucer had secured for him. Wonderful.

A peculiar twinge of balled-up pressure coiled beneath his shoes as he strode forth. The earth was solid and intermittently bumpy, as if it were an old weather-beaten map someone had arranged a few toy soldiers and action figures upon before playing at war. Crowley became acutely aware that it seemed as if no one had ventured across these grounds before, and if they had, it was very long ago.

He had been wandering north only a few delicate, testing paces when a tall tree layered with pale bark waylaid his attention. It was endowed with thicker branches towards the topmost part of its trunk, the kind of branches a hangman would prefer to string a noose from. But, perhaps unfortunately, this was not what troubled the demon the most.

No, what Crowley saw when he gazed upon it was just how utterly different it seemed. Rearing up amidst a landscape of luscious, leafy green and brief flecks of robin’s egg blue, it was as forbiddingly smooth as an axe head and about as subtle as a skeleton picked clean of its flesh placed in a field of sunny wildflowers.

Something in his mind attributed meaning to the tree, and that small, budding connection erupted in a parasitic grove of intense fear. Crowley’s tongue flickered out in a bifurcated curve as he swiftly ducked his head down and stalked away, ignoring the prickling along the nape of his neck that gently informed him that, if he were to chance a glance backwards, the stake of bone-colored timber would no longer be there.

An evening-tinted shade stole after him as the demon passed under the frothy cover of trees, his suit jacket sweeping behind him as he proceeded in the direction opposite to the hated (feared) tree. This was not heaven, nor a haven or a sanctuary. With a thorny glare at his surroundings which was expertly concealed by his shades, Crowley chose to head off in a more southerly direction.

Surely it would yield more fruit.

[Simon]

About as abruptly as he had been sucked into this mess, Dante found himself once more swallowed by blackness and spit out into an unfamiliar location. Thankfully, this time he went through the experience prepared to land on his feet.

The earth was relatively firm under the stomp of the devil hunter's boots, grass flattening under his tread but the dirt not quite giving way. As his senses swam back to the surface of reality, Dante surveyed the immediate area. A minute of looking in all directions yielded the appearance that the nephilim had landed in a sort of in-between, a compromise between sweeping waves of dull grass and drier, less-lively earth. One side of the immediate horizon revealed a choppy rise in ground elevation which looked to come to an abrupt end; a feature worth investigating, to Dante's thought.

Most importantly, for the moment, the red-coat champion was alone. He didn't expect that to keep up long, considering everyone else that had the same general goal, which just made the current prospect something more savory.

In any case, about that raise. Dante stomped his way up the hill, the uneven footing not so unreasonable that he couldn't scale the rocks at a moderate pace. Reaching the highest point had him step onto a weathered cliff edge: one of a series of high bluffs that overlooked the ocean. Therefore, it could be reasoned that this champion had landed on the coast of this ancient land- something that Dante would merely hum at in consideration.

Taking advantage of the higher position, the devil hunter looked back to observe the area in a more broad sense. Almost exactly in the direction he had come from, the landscaping transitioned (or more accurately, deteriorated) into a dry and wracked terrain, fit for only the hardiest of creatures to live in. To Dante's left, tracing down the coastline, the cliffs were eventually cut off for the lands thereafter to descend into a sort of valley; therein lay a large grove of scattered and ruinous constructions, all too likely the remains of some old civilization.

Could that be where the hero's spirit had originally hailed from, in another time? Dante had no way of knowing, nor did he particularly care. It certainly seemed like a good place to start scoping out, even if for nothing more than supplies. Perhaps that shall be Dante's first destination, then.

The simple jaunt back down the bluffs was just that, quick and non-challenging. As the half-blood prepared to journey east, however, he couldn't help but spare another sidelong glance at the empty, mint-condition cardboard box he had appeared next to.

It was utterly useless, considering how Dante very absolutely dismissed the thing earlier. Yet, there remained something strangely compelling about it...

The next thing he knew, the grown man was was sitting curled up in the open box like an over-sized 8 year-old.

"What the hell am I doing?"

[Magus]

Magus eyed the machine creature for a moment, before offering it the slightest of nods.

“If you can promise that no harm shall come to me or my new allies, I shall help you,” he breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper. It was then that he locked eyes with a man over the machine’s equivalent of a shoulder.

Tony Redgrave. The mage betrayed no reaction to the appearance of his former adversary, but internally he was careful to note the strength of this man. Perhaps even more powerful than the bandit who had brutally and agonizingly murdered him, Tony could be a very real threat.

But none of this mattered as, in a flash, they were gone.

He stood engulfed by a forest of mighty, ancient trees. The faint rustling of activity whispered at him from every direction – birds, rodents. Predators.

Prey.

This Island was teeming with life, and Magus alone. To make matters worse, he didn’t even need to raise a finger to know he was sharply reduced on power – he could feel something restricting his access to his well of the supernatural.

But, he realized as his eyes glanced down at the savage weapon at his feet, he wasn’t left totally defenseless.

Magus knelt down and hoisted the weapon into his arms, staggering under its awkward bulk. It gleamed in what little of the dappled sunlight pierced through the foliage above. The thing was hardly his style, but it would suit him just fine.

The weapon came with a convenient carrying strap which allowed the Demon King to sling it over his shoulder. A small mercy afforded him by the narcissistic ghoul who had brought him here. Still, if there truly was power here worth claiming, Magus might consider overlooking the colossal arrogance of the Spirit who had temporarily enslaved him.

The wizard crept silently through the undergrowth, suppressing the mounting suspicion that burgeoned within him, but found himself fighting a losing battle. He looked at the pristine forest all around him. At the almost carefully positioned clusters of wildflowers, all with blazes of color in vivid relief against their surrounded.

He, too, was a splash of wild color fiercely juxtaposed against a calming backdrop of greens and browns, but just like the too-perfect wildflowers, he didn’t belong here. He was beginning to feel that nothing did.

Exactly what kind of a prisoner lives in an idyllic forest-island cut off from all realities? The whole thing reeked of some lesser immortal’s plaything: a microcosm of the Omniverse, with Teucer as this place’s Omni.

And if that were true, if Teucer was playing some kind of game beyond what he had told them – and he most certainly was – Magus needed to find out what, and quickly.

Before any of that could be sorted, however, the groan of a much more primal need rumbled from the pit of his stomach. Food was going to be an issue here, he realized, somehow instinctively aware of the fact he couldn’t simply summon something delicious to eat.

Magus sighed. How frustrating.

[The Spirit]

FACE TO FACE
KOPAKA vs. JUPITER

Hidden within a treeline overlooking a sand-covered beach the Toa of Ice had spotted a large blonde-haired human. Silently Kopaka watched his prey, observing every minute detail and forming a plan of attack. It was an interesting scenario, the Toa had the element of surprise, whereas his opponent had a reasonable weapon. It was a small black and grey butterfly knife, a meager weapon to be sure, but it certainly was more effective than Kopaka’s own. But despite this disadvantage the Toa of Ice could not throw away such a ripe opportunity to ambush a threat.

Waiting until Jupiter’s back was turned to the treeline Kopaka struck with the intensity of a serpent. His mechanical bones and synthetic muscles moved in glorious synchronicity. Every step closed the gap between him and his target, a target who had only just become aware of his attacker. Jupiter whirled around just in time to see a robotic fist aimed straight for his jaw. The calculated strike sent the mechanically enhanced man stumbling backwards as his vision shuddered. He gripped his knife tightly and steadied his body, ready to fight back his attacker.
　　
“How cowardly of you, striking when your opponent’s back is turned” Jupiter quipped, fighting through the distinct taste of blood oozing from his gums.
　　
“There is no cowardice in victory,” Kopaka responded coldly.
　　
The two stood no more than a few feet apart, each combatant sizing the other up. Each warrior examined the other for potential weaknesses. Jupiter was the first to act, stepping forward quickly and slashing at the Toa’s chest. Kopaka stepped backwards in response, keeping sight of the blade at every moment. Jupiter continued the assault, hoping to keep his mechanical opponent on the back foot. Sensing an opening Kopaka struck as Jupiter missed another swing. A solid punch directly into the man’s sternum forced the air from Jupiter’s lungs. The genetically enhanced human gasped as his breath left him.

He scrambled backwards, his feet finding no solid footing in the soft sand. Kopaka had no qualms about pressing his advantage and another punch landed squarely against Jupiter’s ribs. Another step forward put the Toa of Ice too close to his opponent, a slight miscalculation as Jupiter’s augmented body recovered quicker than a body made of pure flesh would. A flash of steel sent a surge of warning through Kopaka’s mind. The synthetic muscle fibers bundles to his arm met the cold steel of Jupiter’s knife. It was only a minor nick, but the idea of a tactical misstep soured Kopaka’s thoughts. Responding to the flash of blade the Toa of Ice delivered a vicious elbow to Jupiter’s jaw, sending the poor man stumbling again.
　　
The bleeding Jupiter glanced up at Kopaka, his opponent had proven to be a competent combatant. He was no where near spent, but the thought of burning everything within the first hour of his arrival did not seem wise. So with a glare the mechanical man dashed into the treeline, hoping his icey adversary would not follow.

[spoiler]WINNER: KOPAKA

Kopaka takes 1 damage. (superficial wound)
He now has a small gash on his right bicep (or whatever the equivilent is for a robot)

Jupiter takes 2 damage. (superficial wound)
Jupiter has several bruised ribs, a cracked tooth, and a headache[/spoiler]

[Weiss Schnee]

Weiss looked with panic as she disappeared, trying to grab for Ruby's hand - but she couldn't even find Ruby before her vision filled with black. In what felt like half a second, The panicked huntress realized that she was in some other place on the island entirely.
Alone.
Again.
"B-but... He didn't even..." Weiss babbled, somewhere between anger, panic, and frustration.
Alright, calm down Weiss. This might just be like the temple. Just look around. The white-themed woman thought, slowly scanning her surroundings.
Weiss realized she was in some sort of jungle environment - or at least, so she thought. She'd never been to any area like this on remnant, but from what she knew from books, this looked like some sort of forested area near the equator.
Or, you know, what could be a forested area near an equator. The whole "magically portal-ed to an island meant that she wasn't going to guess this place made geographical sense - She was really gambling by thinking it followed the basic laws of physics as it is.
Gnarled trees surrounded her, dropping leaves on her head even as she cautiously walked towards what looked like a road. "Ruby?" Weiss murmured quietly into the trees surrounding her. birdsong and the wind whistling through the trees were the only reply she heard.
"So I've been brought to this road, without my partner, without my weapon, and without the weapon that stupid spirit promised-" Weiss Muttered, as she felt a slight bump against the back of her heels.
Leaning down carefully, and turning around, she saw what looked like some sort of tiny syringe filled with a jar of unpleasant green goo.
Weiss looked down at the tiny syringe, quickly realizing that the little needle was far too small to present any use in combat. the - likely poisonous - substance inside looked like it was probably deadly in some way, but she was more likely to get a handful of broken glass if she ever used this thing in combat.
"That's... my weapon?!?" Weiss asked with a shaking voice, as her hands tightened. "And... I'm completely alone..." She continued to mutter, her voice getting less and less even.

"Yeah, no, that's fine. I'll be sure to get all your precious little artifacts for you, by myself." Weiss ranted, standing up. "On this island of people you gave plenty of reason to kill me!" Weiss started to pace. "With no clue of where I am!" Weiss continued, before kicking the closest tree she could find so hard that leaves fell into her hair. "Worrying about whether or not my partner's going to get mutilated by one of these freaks you summoned! With a Syringe" She screamed.
"I'm so glad you kidnapped Me to do this Stupid, nonsensical, game for you!" Weiss yelled. Finally, her voice lost all coherence altogether, as she let out one ear-splitting, high-pitched scream of frustration.

A few moments, and some controlled breathing later, Weiss finally found herself seeing something other than red again, as she looked at the road in front of her. it looked ancient - like something created before dust was ever found. The roughly put together cobblestone was still kind of surprising to her, though - it seemed there was a lot of civilization - or lack of it - all over the island. It almost made Weiss feel at home - combing another grimm-infested ruin in remnant.
Searching for her partner.

Weiss shook her head as she resisted the swell of tears that tried to push through her eyes. Even though they were separated... she would find her. She did it once, she could do it again. And god help anyone who got in her way.

[The Spirit]

FACE TO FACE
Smith vs. Belle & Mickey

The small mouse had enough of this teleportation here and there, why couldn’t the darn Teucer just show them the door. Mickey took a seat on a nearby felled tree and wiped the sweat off of his brow, the forest was quite thick and even walking for a couple of hours had caused the mouse to sweat.

“That Teucer could have given us a bottle of water or some food if we’re out here helping him.” A twig broke off in the distance, “Who’s there?” The Mouse King panicked for a bit, he really didn’t want to hurt anyone in this quest. They were all supposed to work together!

The redheaded girl peered from the brush. “Oh hey! Mickey, I’m glad it’s only you! What a relief.” She chucked a bit before breathing a sigh of relief. “Well I guess we should stick together huh?”

Mickey smiled back in return, “Yeah sounds like a plan. Well, I have had no luck finding those Guardian thingies and this island is huge. That Teucer really threw us into the middle of nowhere huh?”

Out from the bush came a man wearing a full suit and sunglasses, his face was completely stoic. “Well, well well. Looks like I’ll be thinning the competition from the very start.” The man began to slowly approach the two, raising his almost comically oversized gun at them. He smirked a little bit before pointing the gun at Belle, firing a few shots. Mickey’s eyes widened and he pushed Belle out of the way as fast as he could.

“AGH! Fuck! That fucking hurts. You asshole!” Mickey looked up from the ground to see Belle’s arm bleeding. “You’ll pay for that you jerk!” She jumped up from the ground and pulled out the crowbar from her side. She began to run towards the agent as more shots fired from his gun. She heard Mickey yell, “Language!” as she closed in on the agent.

“It’s only inevitable that I will kill you two. It’s pointless to run awa-.” Smith’s body lifted off of the ground as her shoulder hit into his stomach. She got on top of him and smacked his face a few times with the crowbar, spurting blood all over the grass and cracking his sunglasses. She raised her hand to smack again but the butt of Smith’s gun hit her head. He easily pushed her off of him and stood up, raising his gun to finish her off.

“Hey you meanie! Get away from her!” Smith turned his head to see the mouse charging up a beam of energy. Time slowed down, or well Smith sped up, as the huge beam of energy launched from Mickey’s hands. Smith leaned back as the beam of energy barely missed overhead, singing his tie. The agent frowned at the young mouse, he couldn’t beat these two alone. He would need more agents.

“Damnite. It is pointless to stop me.” The agent ran off into the forest, seeing the Mouse help pick up his friend.

[spoiler]

Belle gets shot in the arm and has a boo boo on her head- 2 dmg, Minor Injury
Smith get hit in the head with a crowbar and looses a tooth- 3 dmg, Minor Injury
Mickey used Tier One Super Move Yellow Kingdom Hearts- -1 SP
Smith used Tier One Super Move Agent Reflexes -1 SP

[/spoiler]

[Ada Wong]

One hand reached out to part the way between a bundle of dew-slick leaves as Crowley pressed onwards through crawling, shadow-stained vines and thick undergrowth. The ambient sounds of rustling leaves and the faint, hushed chirping of birds and hiccuping frogs accompanied his footsteps while he crept along, taking great care not to make a single sound as he went. A few more times than he would care to count the demon stumbled across a pile of loose pebbles or an unexpected dip in the damp jungle floor, but other than those few bumps in the road things were going swimmingly for him.

To pair this climate with swimming was a little more than he could ask, unfortunately; he was fairly surprised there weren't a million yellow-tinged mosquitoes buzzing about in this humidity, and once or twice he had caught himself tugging at his collar to loosen it lest it choke him in its fiery grasp. It was sort of funny, to him, that an agent of Hell itself couldn't handle the heat.

Eventually, however, it became apparent to Crowley that this plan of action just wasn't working. That brief venture into the unknown had borne surprisingly little fruit, and it just wouldn't do to press his luck in one direction while there were plenty of others ripe for investigation. But which one to take?

With an irritable huff, Crowley leaned against the barrel-wide trunk of a tree, letting the rather hefty and musically pulsing weapon rest against his hip while he regarded the nearly impenetrable canopy above. For a moment he simply rested there, staring, when a little glimmer of color caught his eye. Parched lips parting slightly, his head lolled lazily to the side so he could better see it.

A slight hummingbird, no bigger than a bumblebee, hovered beside a vibrantly-colored, sparkling bloom for a split instant before zipping away in a streak of lavender plumage. The demon's slitted pupils followed it only briefly before again flitting back to where it had once been. As he began to look more critically at the tree's branches, more and steadily more little buzzing birds became readily apparent. One by one, when all of the sweet sap had been sipped from their chosen bud, they would dart away to the west, leaving nothing behind but a wavering pocket of disturbed air.

Somehow, somewhere, from a background and life Crowley largely cared very little about, someone had said those little birds were good luck. And he would be blessed if he really didn't need some luck right now.

Crowley's snake-like tongue again flickered out, contemplative, almost as if he were tasting the air. From his sagged position against the tree trunk, he took a moment to consider his options: either he could remain here and melt in this blasted humidity, or he could follow after a few feathery tokens of fortune. Neither seemed especially promising to him, but it was a choice he simply had to make.

As fate would have it, Crowley straightened up from his slouch, a whole battalion of water droplets prickling against the dark fabric of his suit. He idly flattened his tie against his front, wondering just when he had lost the fancy pin that kept it shackled to his shirt, before setting off after the flighty birds.

He whistled lightly under his breath as he walked.

[Mickey Mouse]

A/N: This post takes place before the above Face to Face.

Mickey Mouse had never felt so up in his entire life. Well, his entire Omniverse life.

Sure, in Dante’s Abyss he had woken up with an iron gauntlet stuffed in his backpack. Subsequently, he had had the distinct pleasure of wielding—first—one of the most legendary swords ever in existence and then, following Erza’s unfortunate demise at the hands of that golden-haired jerk, a hammer that felt like it belonged to a god. Honestly, though, the three of those intensely powerful weapons could not compare to the blessing he had received in exchange for his help finding Teucer’s stolen pieces of armor.

The spirit’s last words foreshadowed a happy ending for the competitors; Teucer promised to assist them in any way he could and drop any weaponry he could find in their locations. Mickey had expected to find a sword or a gun or something else abhorrently violent when he’d finished overcoming the whiplash from being teleported, but no. What lay in front of him, its pages flipping in the wind, could not be beat.

He quickly snatched it up, thumbing through to try and glean as much as he could. It contained article upon article filled with strategy for any situation the former King could think of. Between the advice columns were littered pictures of various young human women modeling armor which Mickey could only suppose was designed for speed and maneuverability.

The mouse was giddy—Teucer had sent him a survival guide designed specifically for him! How kind of the spirit.

Of course, the mouse noticed that no other supplies lay in wait for him. Ah, well; he supposed that he couldn’t ask the good ol’ spirit for everything. After all, this guy was just a ghost looking for a pal to help him out of a jam. It wasn’t like he was Karl Jak or any of the other big goons behind Dante’s Abyss, who probably rolled around in money like it was bathwater.

Still, the book’s appearance in front of the mouse gave him an overwhelming sense of optimism about the journey to come. The Keyblade wielder couldn’t really fathom this whole shindig being a competition, but he supposed he had to see the spirit’s side of things. Sometimes, the promise of reward was the only way to convince these people to do anything. The Omniverse’s warped morals had always put a salty taste in Mickey’s mouth, but he couldn’t find it in his little heart to fault Teucer for just doing what he needed to do to ensure that one way or another, he got all of the relics back safe and sound.

Well, he supposed, he could fault him for needlessly endangering the lives of thirty-plus primes, but had he really thought about those consequences? Honestly, Mickey doubted it; most people didn’t think of the collateral damage if they weren’t truly pure of heart like he was.

No lolly-gagging, though—Teucer’s guide to survival in this new land seemed to signify the mouse’s clear favor in the eyes of the Spirit. That meant he had to get going. He didn’t want to disappoint his host. Putting a broad grin on his mousy little face, he rolled up Play, Boy (named, Mickey supposed, for the game-like structure Teucer’s challenge had adopted) and tucked it in the back pocket of his blood-red shorts. Time to get explorin’!

* * *

“Ugh, can I go home yet?”

Within a few hours, the mouse’s optimism had drained almost entirely.

He had been wandering around aimlessly for what seemed like forever, trying to make heads or tails of the confusing instructions in Play, Boy. The more he read and the more he meandered around the environment, the less anything seemed to be relevant, or make sense at all.

Finally, he decided that he needed a rest. He looked to Play, Boy for guidance on where the safest spot for hiding out would be. It took a few minutes to decipher any instructions on the subject from the tome—there was a lot about a spot in ‘G’ being pretty advantageous strategically, but the spirit hadn’t been so kind as to provide the fighters with any sort of labelled map like Dante’s Abyss had—but eventually he found instructions that seemed as good as any.

“Climb the shaft carefully. You’ll be thirsty when you reach the top!” he read aloud.

The mouse looked around—he didn’t exactly know what Teucer meant by “shaft,” but judging from his surroundings it was just an ancient old way to say the word “tree.” Following instructions, the mouse shimmied up the tree and rested on a pretty sturdy-looking branch, and then a realization hit him: Teucer had not provided him with any way to quench his thirst. And the book had been absolutely correct in its prediction: the climb had, indeed, made him very thirsty! His frustration with this whole ordeal began to simmer.

A scowl forming on his face, he pulled out Play, Boy and flipped through the pages looking for an article that seemed relevant. He stumbled upon a picture of a lightly-armored female warrior with long, red hair, similar to his friends Erza and, now, Belle.

“Hm,” he murmured. I didn’t realize how similar they looked. Mickey shrugged off the coincidence, and scanned the next page to see what the title of this advice column was. In big, bolded letters, it read:

Why You Should Always Have A Thing For Redheads!

[Kopaka]

Before fighting Jupiter...

Once again, spirited away to another time and place. Kopaka let out a long, rattling sigh as he heaved his metallic body to its feet. Soft, white sand whispered under his feet as he turned around on the spot, taking in the landscape around him. It felt...very familiar. For a brief instant, the Toa wondered if he had somehow wound up back on Mata Nui. If, somehow, the Omniverse and all of its oddities had been but an odd dream right before awakening.

...but no. It didn't feel right. One glance through the eyes of the Akaku told Kopaka that he was still in this accursed land. At least he had the benefit of essentially being on native grounds. A vast island with a dense wilderness...it was almost laughably ideal. Kopaka, however, did not laugh. Looking around, he searched for the weapon that Teucer had promised him, but saw neither blade nor hammer to wield against a foe. There was simply what appeared to be a sack of eerily glowing food items not too far away up the shoreline. Provisions then? It would have to do. Even without his sword and shield, Kopaka was more than capable of sparring with an opponent unarmed, though it was still far from ideal. It seemed that one advantage would always be countered by another drawback.

At least the optical enhancements on the Mask of X-Ray Vision were still functional. Though they were hard to see over the heavy canopy of jungle that began just up the beach, Kopaka could just barely spot the glistening white peaks of a mountain range off in the distance. That was his new objective. Not only would the frosty peaks give him a further environmental advantage, but they would also allow the Toa to survey the entire island after reaching one of the razor sharp summits. Looking at them from such a distance reminded Kopaka of gazing at the singular volcanic peak of Mount Ihu, barely visible on the horizon from the shoreline of Daxia. Kopaka grunted as a surge of memories washed over his mind like one of the whispering sheets of sea water behind him.

"Do you think we will be ever-loved? Will they sing songs about us, even as we stand in the same tree-home?

Much to Kopaka's chagrin, Hydraxon had assigned him with the despicably verbose Lewa, Toa of Air. It was no wonder he had so much breath to spare. Their initial task for the day had been to gather as many Cokri shells as they could from the shoals on the north side of the island. For what reason, Hydraxon would not say, but the tedium of such a task was not well suited for Lewa. Perhaps it was to be a lesson of patience for the both of them. Lewa would have to learn to focus and commit to even the most menial tasks, and Kopaka would have to learn to endure the company of his second least favorite sibling.

At least, that's what Kopaka hoped.

The Toa of Ice rose from the sea water, the salty liquid refusing to freeze even on Kopaka's frigid protodermis. He looked to his viridian brother with a hard look, before turning back to the surf and resuming his digging through the sand.

"Fame and Glory. These things aren't our concern, Lewa. We are heroes not because we slay evil and have statues carved. We are heroes because we are willing to do what needs to be done, even if it is painful. Especially if is painful." Kopaka said, his comparatively deep voice contrasting against Lewa's tittering laughter. The Toa of Ice had hoped his words would give Lewa something to think about, preferably in silence, for at least a few moments.

"Haha, well of course! But isn't it nice to have people like you?" Lewa responded, eliciting an almost instantaneous growl from Kopaka.

"Gratitude is a perk, not a motivator. If you only do great deeds only to be thanked for them, that makes you selfish, not a hero. That's simply taking advantage of other people's problems and using them as leverage."

Lewa let out a long sigh.

"Your heart is as frozen as your thinking, Toa of Slush. Nobody with Light in them would do such a thing."

This time it was Kopaka's turn to provide a snap comment.

"Maybe not intentionally, but seeing these things in one's self does require a modicum of introspection, Toa of Breezes."

This time, Lewa did stay silent. Perhaps Kopaka had hurt the green biomech's feelings. It didn't matter. If such a thing really soured Lewa's mood, his naive brother could do with some thicker skin. It seemed as though Kopaka had gotten his wish.

But maybe that hadn't been the right way to do it.



The world slowly came back into focus, like surfacing from a pool of inky water. These memory surges were becoming increasingly problematic, but at least they gave Kopaka more context to the world he had been taken from. Cycling his optics a few times, Kopaka let out a long sigh and resumed figuring out a course of action.

After observing the movement of the sun for a few moments, the Toa discerned that they were to the west. Picking up the flimsy bag of eerie blue food, Kopaka immediately began a swift march down the coastline. It would be better to stick to the shoreline to avoid getting lost in the jungle until absolutely necessary. To say that the biomech was in high spirits would be an overstatement of his level of optimism, but at the very least, Kopaka was feeling confident already.

After fighting Jupiter...

That had been a poor showing.

Yes, arguably Kopaka had 'won' the altercation, but there was a difference between being victorious and being successful. His real objective, the human's knife, had escaped along with the modified biological. That left Kopaka unarmed, with only a gash to show for it. Luckily, his frozen body prevented the wound from bleeding, but the fact that the knife had managed to pierce his protosteel exoskeleton was bizzare, let alone embarassing.

Perhaps the mysteries of this island would be completely laid bare, but with any luck, Kopaka would be long rid of this farce before approaching that point of illumination. For now, he needed to find a better way to carry this sack of sustenance. Kopaka had managed to find a safe place to stash the food before ambushing the human, but up until that point it had required him to keep one arm occupied with carrying the load. If he himself was ambushed, it would not do fight single-handed, especially without something to defend himself.

Luckily, Kopaka had learned more than just sword techniques and tactical conditioning under Hydraxon's tutelage. It had been a long, long time, but Kopaka still remembered the fundamentals of basket weaving. He had been moving at a steady pace for several hours now, and it would be good to have something to occupy his mind while he took a rest.

Scraping together some fallen, dried palm fronds, the biomech began to weave and bind the plant matter together to form a simple woven sack with a strap to slip around his shoulder made of corded creeper vines. It would not hold up to much punishment, and would likely require recurring maintenance, but for now, it at least accomplished an immediate problem. The glowing food items were a tight fit for the bag, but with a few adjustments to the satchel and some light cramming, it all went in.

The Toa admired his own handiwork, seated under the shade of a bowed palm tree, with the sound of the ocean in front of him. Shore birds skittered along the surf, plucking shellfish from the sand and calling to eachother with abrupt bursts of chirping. Kopaka knew he would need to get moving again soon if he was to make any real progress, but for now, for the first time in a long time, he was content.

[Sasuke Uchiha]

The enemy of my enemy is… the ninja thought as he reflected on the ghastly, cerulean form of Tucer, and the predicament he had been thrown into.

A pain in my ass, he concluded. In one instant, he had gone from hot on the trail, to being imprisoned in some dead man’s marble palace. Time. It was a very valuable thing. Possibly more valuable than power. Power comes and goes, but time? You never get your time back. Sasuke didn’t have time. He certainly didn’t have the time it took for bones to crumble.

“Wait.” The ninja groaned his frustrations, before following after Tucer, “If it is as you say it is, then I have no choice but to release you from your bonds.”

After the spirit thanked him, Sasuke began to systematically access the smorgasbord of primes who had been, yet again, chosen by an otherworldly being to do their bidding. He figured he might see a few faces he would recognize from Dante’s Abyss, or perhaps New Babylon. Sasuke suddenly stopped in his tracks, mid-stride.

What if Itachi was here?! the ninja thought. This could be his ticket. He could end his search and slay his brother on this day and not the next. It wasn’t farfetched, Itachi had shown his face in stranger places; last Dante’s Abyss, for instance.

Alert, the ninja spun on his heels, taking in a panoramic view of the champions, and accessing their worth through Sharingan blessed eyes. His heart was racing, his legs weak, and his stomach in knots, all from the adrenaline dump he experienced in anticipation of finding his vengeance.

However, today was, sadly, not the day. Instead, the ninja found himself spiraling out of control, and his surroundings fading to darkness.

When he awoke, the shinobi expected to be on some island. The spirit had gone on and on about an island, but, just like last time, Sasuke found himself staring at a barren and desolate land instead. A scorched black earth, cracked with subterranean rivers of magma and volcanic mountains dominated the landscape. In every direction, terrifying billows of smolder and ash, formed from the sporadic eruptions of hazardous lava shrouded any sensible path.

This is all too familiar the shinobi thought with sensation running down his spine. Any minute he expected Itachi to lunge out at him, a great battle to commence, and only one Uchiha to be left standing. When that didn’t happen, he removed his clammy grip from the hilt of Kusanagi and crouched low, below the curtain of smog to assess his next move.

With his eyes clear of smoke, he spotted a strange weapon. No... not the weapon Tucer had promised him? Sasuke balked, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The ninja stared at it in disbelief for a moment, before packing it away. Shaking his head, he decided on a direction, and chuckled to himself as he went, “I knew there was a reason I wanted to punch that spirit's face in…”

[Orihime Inoue]

Orihime was entangled in her own consciousness, preparing herself for the task at hand, when she was interrupted by the dry raspy voice of the grandfather spirit.

“Now Go!” the ghastly, azure phantom announced, just before she felt her bodying being sucked out of existence, like a hefty, black vacuum.

After being torn through time and space, like some heinous rollercoaster, Orihime landed hard on her ass upon coarse gravel. She let out a deep sigh of distress, before that wretched time hole spat out a conceivably, sizeable weapon, and plunged it across her lap. The sharp impact knocked the breath out of the petite redhead.

Being transported from another dimension, she felt the experience of being forced under water for several minutes without air. Heaving breathing and the defining sound of her heartbeat engulfed Orihime's eardrums. The sharp sting of her eyes drying out caused her whole body to quiver and tears began to fill her doe eyes. Several minutes passed as she stared hypnotically at the monstrosity before her.

This was not like any Zanpakuto she had seen before. In the long lost world she once knew, Zanpakutos were weapons used to kill and protect. This was no Zanpakuto, but it appeared useful, and she admired the engraved, ancient markings that were almost elegant.

“If I have a weapon like this, what do the guardians look like?” Orihime thought while the frightening realization caused a pale, distressed look to form across her delicate face.

In any case, she could always use this tool to hunt fish or kill other beasts. “Kill.” the word echoed and haunted her mind. This brought her all the way back to the beginning, in the village of Zabajin. Her first few nights after the attack, Zabajin isolated her and forced her into a hobble hole. Every day he would visit her once and bring a pure white, snowy rabbit with a knife. The troll would command her to kill the innocent creature to survive.

At first, she tried to reason with the chief, saying that it was not necessary to kill all the time, amongst other closing arguments. Until he got angry with Orihime and charged her. Within inches away from her face, he hissed “I don’t know what luxurious world you came from, but here you will have to kill to survive.” One part feeling guilty for stirring up her troll friend, and another part of her worried about impending death and starvation broke the strike.

“You will have to kill,” Orihime muttered the trusted words of the troll chief.

Standing reluctantly to her feet now she surveyed her surroundings. As far as her eyes could see, she saw no other signs of life. Turning around, she was relieved to glimpse towering snowy mountains in the distance. The rising earth, elevating high above the girl caused her to feel homesick. Approaching the mountains was the only thing that made sense to Orihime. Zabajin was always telling tales of glorious dragons that dwelled in caves, guarding their beloved treasure.

Perhaps she will find what she needs to liberate the poor grandfather soul, high on top of the winter ridge. The only problem was how in the world was she going to get there. Pondering a moment she envisioned a big bright light bulb, turning on above her flowing crimson locks.

Using her aid that the elderly apparition gave her, she tore through the lengthy white gown, several inches above her knee. Working quickly, Orihime wrapped up the device with a scrap of velvety material. She fastened it to her side firmly, but within easy reach if necessary. With only a small piece left she thought it vital to conceal as much of her glowing hair as possible. The troll chief would joke with her about how her ginger head was a walking target in the snow. Gathering her lengthy red hair, she crafted a single long braid that graced down her back. This would have to do, for now, she thought as she used her remaining garment to tie it together.

[Kakashi Hatake]

Yet again he had been forcefully flung through space-time.

When he opened his eyes once more, Kakashi found himself supine in what appeared to be (at least from his perspective) a sea of tall grass. The bent stalks of the overgrown plantlife cradled his body, suspending him a few inches from the ground. While the constant inter-dimensional travel was really wearing on his nerves, he did have to at least be appreciative that Teucer had dropped him where he had, rather than onto a pile of rocks.

The copy ninja got to his feet silently, blinking forcefully in an attempt to clear the trademark fogginess that came with this brand of travel. He surveyed the area thoughtfully, noting that he had been dropped smack-dab in the middle of a field. Off in the distance he thought he spied some sort of hill, though it was difficult to make out. Above him, the sun hung low in the sky, murky darkness slowly lightening as he looked on. If Kakashi were to guess, he’d say it looked to be early morning, though he couldn’t assert that with any authority. He had since abandoned any attempts at timekeeping in the Omniverse; there never seemed to be any degree of consistency to it.

A scarecrow in a field, the Captain mused, glancing at the waist-deep grass. He had to appreciate the irony. Maybe Teucer was having a laugh at his expense.

As he finished the thought, Kakashi caught sight of something odd at his feet. It was buried in the grassy sea, poking up from just beneath where he had recently awoken. The painted metal shone faintly in the sunlight, casting minute reflections on the foliage. The copy ninja quickly took a knee and began digging the object from its nest. He finally managed to free it a few moments later, hefting its bulky form and examining it closely. He had a few guesses about what the mysterious contraption could be, though he’d save the thorough examination for later. Minato was somewhere on the island and he wasn’t about to let anything happen to his former sensei after so many years. Though the Fourth Hokage was likely able to handle nearly anything on this island alone, Kakashi wasn’t one to take chances.

“How am I going to carry this thing?” The copy ninja wondered aloud, turning it over in his hands. It definitely wasn’t going to fit in his pockets.

Maybe I can make a sling with some wire… Though not the most elegant solution, it seemed like as good an idea as any. He placed the device at his feet, feeling for his belt pouch.

“Wha…”

Of course his belt would be gone. Of course. And along with it, his shuriken, kunai, wire, scrolls...everything. Glancing over his shoulder, he found his chokuto similarly missing.

The scarecrow sighed heavily, grabbing up the contraption and hefting it over his shoulder. After a few seconds of consideration, he started off through the field. It was going to be a long day.

[Belle]

Before the fight

The creepy ghost raised his hand and said a few choice words, and with that, Belle was torn away from the world once more. Flung into darkness, not knowing whether or not she would see anyone ever again, she reflected, squeezing her eyes shut as the feeling of falling quailed in her belly.

All in all, she was getting rather tired of this pattern.

She landed with a WHUMP on soft earth - a small mercy, much more preferable than the temple's cold stone floor. Lying on her back, waiting for the sensation of spinning to fade, she felt the cool kiss of grass pressing against her arms and legs, tickling the nape of her neck. She opened her eyes.

Sky. Cloudy and brooding, but real. After months of languishing in the seedy bowels of Coruscant's fourth tier, she'd forgotten just how wide and deep it could be.

She wasn't sure how long she lay there, watching the dirty clouds swirl and pass overhead. Five minutes, maybe ten? She would have liked to have stayed longer, wait out the day, soaking in the realness of the moment, but it was not to be.

As real as this was, as tempting as it was, it wasn't her home, neither the old nor the new. The spirit - Tracer? - had intimated that they were free to go once he had gotten what he wanted. Lily was probably already out of the hospital and wondering where she was, and the old woman, well, she probably thought Belle had run off and quit in disgrace after her beating at the hands of Mister Pickles.

Paws, she corrected herself. At the paws.

Either way, she knew she couldn't stay here forever.

With a sigh, she sat up, shaking her head and giving the cool patch of grass one last farewell pat before standing. She found herself on a hill, a sparse smattering of trees stretching into the distance across rolling plains.

Taking a deep breath, she shouted Mickey's name. If they had been close together in the temple, surely they couldn't be so far apart on the island, right?

But the anthromorphic mouse didn't answer. No one did, save for an ominous groan of wind. Belatedly, she remembered the ghost's warning about guardians. Maybe screaming out her location to everything within earshot wasn't such a good idea after all.

Guess I'm walking, she thought. She took a step forward and stopped. She'd just stepped on something hard. Glancing down, she realized it wasn't, as she'd first suspected, a loose branch, but something unmistakably manmade.

The toilet brush she'd holding when she'd been whisked into the temple had had a bright pink handle. The crowbar in the grass was the exact same shade. Bending down to pick it up, she tested the weight. It was about the length of her forearm, curved on one end, the other sharply angled for prying. She'd never had to use one before, but she understood the concept.

Well, maybe it'd come in handy if she ever ran into a stubborn door or something. Holding the bar loosely in one hand, she set off, striding down the slope towards a denser clump of trees in the far distance.

During the fight

Her eyes widened as the gun turned to point at her, her blood running cold.

Why was he trying to kill them? What did he mean by competition? Weren't they all here to help the Spirit?

Those were the thoughts in the back of her mind, the little niggling things that were immediately drowned out by a flood of adrenaline-fueled panic. She heard the shots, felt Mickey's hands pushing her out of the way - too late. Pain burst across her arm as one of the Agent's rounds grazed across her, burning and slicing open her skin.

She was bleeding. On the plus side, she wasn't scared anymore.

Swearing, she lunged at the agent. If she was going to die here, dammit, she wasn't going to do it cowering. She'd decided to put that life behind her the second she'd agreed to Yuki's training, the moment she'd confronted the men in the street outside the woman's house.

Somehow he managed to miss - she wasn't sure, it seemed a blur. She remembered hitting him hard enough to send him to the ground, slamming the neon pink crowbar into his face, panting as she laid into him.

The butt of the gun slapped her temple, causing a burst of white across her vision. A bright beam of something passed by, burning her eyes and forcing the suited man to retreat. To her side, the anthromorph still held a faint, fading golden glow.

There was another question to throw on the pile, she thought: when did Mickey learn lasers?

Post fight!

"Who was that guy?" Belle asked, wincing as Mickey's overly large fingers prodded at her arm. The injury wasn't especially deep - it had already mostly stopped bleeding. The mouse had assured her that it looked worse than it was, which was good, because to Belle it looked pretty freaking bad. "And why was he trying to kill us?"

"I wish I could answer either of those," the cartoon mouse answered.

Belle looked at him. Maybe it was the overly large eyes, but the mouse didn't make for the best liar. "Fine, I guess it doesn't matter," she groaned, then hissed as the cut on her temple throbbed. "Is everyone out to get us?"

The mouse shook his head and smiled. "Of course not! Not most, anyway. Well, maybe a couple." He glanced away. "Definitely not more than half."

"Cool," Belle sighed, then looked in the other direction. She was silent as Mickey finished his inspection. "I'm sorry," she said finally.

"What for?"

"Freezing up like that. You had to save me." She couldn't keep the disgust completely out of her voice. No matter how much she tried, that always seemed to be how it panned out. She turned to glare into his eyes. "If these guys really are out to hurt us, I don't want to drag you down... I promise: I won't let it happen again."

Mickey regarded her, his expression neutral. Then he smiled that goofy, happy, familiar smile. "Don't worry about it," he reassured. "I won't let anything happen."

She frowned and opened her mouth to object, that that was exactly what she didn't want him to have to do, but then he continued: "Aha! But if you feel that way, I have a little something for you."

"Something...?" Belle asked, tilting her head as the mouse fished in his back pockets.

Mickey grinned. "The spirit gave each of us something, right?" He pointed with his other hand to the crowbar at her side. "Well, he gave me the ultimate survival guide! I know there's something in here that'll help you get stronger. Ah ha!" He stopped. "Here it is!"

From behind his back came a glossy, folded magazine. Carefully, Mickey opened its pages, his eyes brimming with eager hopefulness as he held it out towards her.

Belle stared, heat crawling into her cheeks. She felt her brow twitch.

"Maybe you should wear something like this?" Mickey suggested.

"Wh-what....?

"What kind of girl do you think I am?!"

[Albert Wesker]

He caught it out of the corner of his eye. The spirit seemed to glow, announcing suddenly that he would no longer delay them. He would provide them weapons to defeat the guardians. That was scant little comfort to the artificial combatant; he'd had no training with anything other than his signature weapons. He had programming to make use of virtually any weapons, of course, but...knowing how to wield a weapon was very different than having experience to make that knowledge natural.

His thoughts were cut short, as darkness engulfed him.

His internal sensors went haywire, throwing up masses of garbage data, before going entirely blank as he hit solid ground with a solid THUNK. Bright sunlight met his eyes, and warm stone asserted itself against his back, as normal breathing tried to re-assert itself. The fall hadn't been particularly rough, but he'd been blindsided by it; all the air had been knocked from his lungs. And as he reflexively gasped in wheezing breaths, he slowly rose to a sitting posture, silently cursing his pitiful start. He was a professional; he should've been able to land on his feet. This was infuriating.

Luminous green eyes surveyed the area before him. A long-untended road of rough stone wound away into the distance, flanked on either side by trees and brush. Here and there weeds and rough, hardy grasses broke through the stones, bare dirt and chunks of stone shattered to gravel littering the roadway signifying one thing: without the careful hand of man, and frequent travel, nature was slowly, but inexorably, reclaiming what belonged to it. It was quite a sight, and to anyone who truly had a mind for such things, they might have stopped and observed the scenery for a time.

Colonel did not have a mind for such things.

He merely heaved himself upright, heavy boots planted against the uneven roadway, and idly brushed gravel and dirt from his arms. "Tossed out somewhere at random...this spirit isn't too precise." He brought his right arm up, the hand that always gave way to his saber curling into a fist as he sent the subconscious command to ignite the energy blade.

....only to have the gunmetal appendage remain, staring back at him, and soon enough a message scrolled across his HUD: Colonel Saber functionality OFFLINE.

A faint twitch of irritation flickered through his eyes. His weapons didn't work. Trying to activate his Colonel Buster, he achieved the same result; Functionality OFFLINE. His Colonel Cannon, Screen Divide, even the recently-restored Colonel Army and Blockade routines...all of them, offline.

"Now I see why Teucer mentioned providing us with weapons. We didn't get to keep our own." The scowl on his face only grew deeper as he finally turned about to survey the land at his back. More of the same. Road winding away into the distance, but heading toward what looked to be some sort of city...well, the ruins of one, at any rate. That was secondary to something much more immediate, just a few yards from his position: lodged firmly in a cracked stone of the road, gleaming in the sun, was a sword. The hero's spirit certainly did have a flair for the dramatic...

A swift tug freed the blade from its resting place in the earth, and the blade immediately fell to pieces, separating into segments and flailing about chaotically, as if alive. Colonel held the weapon at arms' length, staring at it in a mixture of disgust and curiosity. It certainly was an odd weapon, and one that was certain to catch foes by surprise if he led them to think it was just an ordinary sword. Of course, he'd need to learn to control it himself, first...

Several moments of fidgeting with the blade brought him to the realization of a catch in the sword's hilt, and with a faint click, the flailing weapon went limp and clattered lifelessly to the ground, looking much like a whip, studded with razor-sharp sections of blade. "This...should do nicely." A moment more and the catch was reversed. Another faint click, and the bladed snapped back to solidity, reforming into its signature sword-shape. He swung it a few times to get a feel for its weight and heft. It wasn't his signature saber, but...

Desperate times.

Turning his gaze back to the ruined city in the distance, he squinted his eyes. It was an obvious landmark, one people would likely head toward just to gain their bearings...that was what his soldier's instinct told him. Which meant heading there was just asking for trouble. He turned on his heel and headed off resolutely in the complete opposite direction, the odd, seemingly alive whip-sword held firmly in-hand. With any luck, he'd find others on the road. Find help, or get rid of any potential nuisances or hindrances.

Whatever was to happen, it could only be beneficial for him in some way or other.

[Ruby Rose]

Perspective is changing, due to Ruby losing her diary upon arrival

"W-wait!" Ruby screamed as the ethereal warrior stood up and gave his farewell. "Wait! We don't wanna be here!" She continued to screech, tears forming waterfalls down her cheeks once more. Some wispy movement at her hand tried to grasp her, at least keep some remnant of her, but no contact was made as the world shimmered and spun into a black abyss. Was the cold that washed over the Huntress from the transport, or her own sorrow? She continued to cry as she was pulled through space, fearing where she might end up.

And her sobbing was halted as the wind was knocked from her lungs by the earth, to which she tumbled and began to retch, the unfavourable mode of transport proving somewhat dizzying. Having satisfied her stomach's needs, she sat back on her knees and wiped away her tears. "A-alright... Ruby, snap out of it, stop being a ditz. You're a big girl, you can handle this." She told herself, taking deep, calming breaths. "Now... where am I?" She wondered, hauling her fragile being up with shaking knees and arms. The first thing she noticed was a lack of a diary, not that it mattered much to her; she likely would have little time to write in it.

Next was the weapon that laid beside her - or more so, stood. An enormous blade, at least a foot taller than Ruby and almost as wide as her skirt, had impaled itself into the earth beside her. Silver eyes glowed and a tiny heart fluttered as she laid eyes upon the weapon. If there was one thing that could cheer Ruby up, it was GIANT weapons. "OHMIGOSH!" She squealed as she jumped up and down in front of it, a crimson blur against the dark steel. With enthusiastic hands, she grasped the hilt and-

"Oh, wow!" She grunted in stress as she slowly hoisted the weapon from its 'podium', having to drop the blade to the grass to be able to hold it. "This thing's massive!" She shouted, chuckling loudly. "I wish I could show..." and with a single thought, her mood plummeted to the depths once more. "Weiss... and Yang... and Blake..." She trailed off, tearing once more. Sniffing deeply, she began to trudge forward, carving a trench in the earth with her oversized weapon. "Never mind that! I know I will see them later!" She told herself optimistically, although there were still three holes shot through her heart, constantly bleeding emotions.

Raising a dainty hand to her fringe and brushing the curtain of bloody midnight aside, Ruby stared out to the expansive horizon. From her position, there was little to see, apart from an enormous mountain range to her right, and what seemed to be the edge of the land to her left. Shrugging, Ruby continued to stalk ahead, her blade in tow, constantly changing arms so they didn't pop from her body.

[Erik Vrell]

Erik was falling. Again. Not long ago, the psychic was afraid of heights and falling, but it was something he got used to surprisingly fast. Erik took his time to examine his surroundings instead of the quick scanning he was used to. The area he found himself in was lightly forested, with a large variety of plant life sprouting around the small clearing. Erik marvelled at the lush garden that he had landed in, doubting that he could have found himself in a more scenic spot if he tried. Erik snapped back to reality as he remembered that he was still in a competition. He remembered the spirit briefly mentioning weapons as the champions were whisked away to the graveyard. Erik scanned his feet for a weapon. Nothing. There was no weapon to be seen in the clearing. Panic swept over Erik as the full weight of the situation hit him.
"If I don't have a weapon, how the hell will I defend myself?" Erik screamed internally. He resorted to digging through the leaf litter, desperately searching for something to defend himself. To Erik's despair, his search bore no fruit. The only things in the clearing were exactly what you would expect to find in a forest, twigs and leaves. Erik was almost brought to tears for the second time in the last twenty four hours as he felt his impending doom.
"I should at least take something to defend myself." Erik mumbled to himself, barely finding the strength to push forwards.
Erik bent down to pick up a good sized twig from the ground and swung it around, testing its weight. It didn't have the heft of a club, but it was the biggest stick in the grove, which wasn't saying much. The twig was only a foot or so long and less than an inch thick.

Erik looked in all directions, searching for something of interest. Soon enough, the ruins of what appeared to be a city came into view.
"I may as well go that way." Erik thought to himself. "What's the worst that could happen?" Erik began the treck towards the ruins. As Erik breathed in the forest air and took his mind off of everything, his despair began to fade away. Even if it was just for a little while, Erik was trying his best to forget about being thrown into a violent death match without a weapon. The path towards the ruins was... Peaceful. Serene, even. Erik couldn't kid himself for long though. Soon enough, things were going to get violent, and Erik wasn't confident about his chances against an armed opponent while he just had a stick. As Erik approached the ruins, the age of the ruins became apparent. There wasn't a visible surface that wasn't dominated by some sort of foliage and some walls were covered completely in vines larger than Erik himself. The whole scene was mesmerising in a way, Mother Nature fighting back against those who attempted to subdue her. It was all very poetic. Occasionally, a loose rock would fall from the crumbling walls and startle Erik from his stupor, and on the outskirts of the ruins a rather large chunk of rock fell, startling not only Erik but someone else nearby. Fear took Erik immediately.
"Should I run?" He thought. "Or maybe I should come out with my hands empty and try to show peace." Erik peeked around the corner to see a slightly familiar figure clad in green.
"Well, what are the odds?" Erik said to himself. The psychic collected himself quickly.
"I believe that we were in the middle of something." Erik grinned as he held out his hand once more for the stranger.

[Minato Namikaze]

He was standing, facing Kakashi and the strange youth from the future. Then, just like the first time, he felt the floor drop from beneath his feet. He felt his stomach drop and then, the scenery had changed. 'Teleportation, again.' The ninja sighed as he looked up at the patch of sky above him. It was framed with tall, green grass. Minato sat forward, his right hand reaching out at the ground beside him as he steadied himself in a sitting position. The grass he was sitting on had been folded over, but he could still feel a strange object beneath it.

Minato scratched his way through the layers of grass, pushing them aside as he revealed some king of strange tool. After lifting it from the ground he eyed over as he held it in his hand, it was completely foreign to him. He hadn't brought it with him, and he definitely hadn't requested it. 'Did Teucer…?' the golden haired ninja mumbled slowly as he placed the object in his jacket. If it had been given to him, or he had been placed in a position to find it, then it must be of some use. He'd figure it out eventually.

The ninja let out a loud, yet somewhat satisfying, sigh as he hoisted himself up and into a standing position. The grass had been quite comfortable and it had been such a long time since he was in a position to just sit around and relax. The field around him looked nice and quiet, a gentle gust of wind brushed past him as he examined the area. The greenery around him swayed like the waves of an ocean as the breeze made it's way through the grassland. The man's smile turned into a disappointed frown as he realized that this field could, at any moment now, become a battle zone.

Maybe he should find Kakashi? The ninja had began thinking to himself. He knew, very well, that Kakashi was able to handle pretty much anything that came his way, but Minato had only just been reunited with his student, and there was a lot of lost time that he felt the need to make up for.

Minato sighed, once again, as he dusted off his white haori and began wading his way through the grass.