Day 1

[Chara Dreemurr]

Content warning: Suicidal thoughts.

Riddick. A very dangerous piece on the board - if Chara understood the mercenary correctly, from their little conversation, one that was likely not easy to fool, either.

Speaking with him had been… fun. Verbal stimulation. If she could see past the raw breadth of danger that came with his voice. In his own way, his intensity eclipsed Lilith’s, his Raw ambition even stronger than Christine’s, and it came with a confidence that was far more… human than either of theirs, but no stronger for it.

Chara’s brain spun as she considered what he had to say, the girl’s thoughts retreating into themselves as she finally found a room of steel mercifully empty. She had spent much of the pre-show learning about her competition, assuming that Dante’s abyss was going to be a challenge, primarily, due to the competition involved. That the main challenge was going to be leaving with a death she could at least be proud of.

She hadn’t expected to be back in Cevanti. She hadn’t expected to be caught in the middle of enemy territory, trying to make sure someone at least had a shot of teleporting out of the abyss…

She hadn’t figured death would start seeming like a mercy, as Darkseid’s tendrils emerged around them. unmaking.

Chara closed the door behind her as she entered the room, and free of observation, she hugged her legs close to her, as she enjoyed a moment in peace.

It was not hard to imagine what such could do to her. The same traits that had made her such an effective judge in the past had made her very vulnerable to his influence in Opealon. Not once, but twice, she had escaped his grasp, but now she had found herself back in a situation where the fog descended.

She could fight unmade creatures, perhaps, do quite a bit of damage to his forces here, but she was not invincible, and as she reached into her coat pocket to find her familiar weapon missing, she was reminded that she was also in unfamiliar territory, with her powers cut down again. The collar had ensured that, for the first time in living memory, Chara could not simply go where she pleased, run where she wished to…

She had an undying soul, magical power to spare, and often had a fair idea of what was going on before anyone else, and had a plan for any contingency…

Here, she had none of these to fall back on, and Chara found herself scared for her own fate, and what it might mean.

So for the first time since she had entered the Abyss, in the absence of onlookers, her smile faded, her eyes drooped, a sigh escaped her lips, and Chara Dreemurr let herself look exactly as tired as she felt. She put herself through the motions of consuming the food rationed to her, a slop that she was fairly certain was watered down but had a reasonable amount of crushed bugs that had snuck in during or after packaging - not a bad flavor, honestly, at least to her. It was good. It failed to distract her, as the malaise snuck in, as the snake wound itself across her neck more surely than her new piece of neck jewelry

Chara’s hands caressed her collar with a flirtatious embrace, gently tugging at the collar. There was one way, and it was fantastically easy. The unmade couldn’t have her pretty little head, or the all-too dangerous knowledge within it, if it popped, yes? It was moral, really. She knew things she could not give to Darkseid, had powers that could not become his, and Sergeant swift’s guards could make sure even her corpse remained relatively unviolated. Was there a better option?
Her cowardly hands didn’t agree, as she felt the strength leave them.

“Ha…” Chara laughed, “Pathetic, is it not…?”

The thoughts were intruded on by the sound of more footsteps running through the complex. Chara reflexively straightened, standing up with practiced ease, as she turned. The mask came back as she saw… well, what she could only describe as a vision of beauty.

“Company like yours would be welcome at any time, Miss Ma’am lady.” Chara would offer, the usual smirk returning to her face. “My name is Chara. Do you have one other than ‘angel’?”

The Southern beauty in front of her seemed to be bemused, not taking the flirting from the girl too seriously. “Ah go by Rogue, Sugah. Do you greet everybody so boldly?”

“Just the pretty ones. And the handsome ones. And the cute ones.” Chara would reply with a chuckle, finding her pace again as she re-focused.
The interruption had not exactly fixed anything, but Chara found herself with feet on the ground again, pulled from the tide, and as her brain whirred, spurred by the conversation as she extended a hand to shake - one covered in a pink mitten.

“I think I could do that. In a little while, at least.” Chara replied, letting the smog leave her mind now that she’d been snapped out of it. The logic was easy enough to deconstruct. She was not the only one that was at risk here, nor was death a true saving grace from Darkseid’s machinations, especially if the base was overrun in the end. Her mind found the holes quicker, as it usually did, when she kept it far away from her heart. “How about we say… about an hour? Might be enough time for me to get things finished up here.”

“Finished up, sugah?”

Chara gave a nod, with a joking grin. “I figure I may as well invest in some small businesses while I’m here. Catch up with ya soon!” she snarked with a grin, giving a half-hearted wave as she bolted through the halls.

 

[Kefka Palazzo]

The game hadn’t even started before that colossal Jak-ass already messed up a mess teleportation so badly he wasn’t exactly sure where they’d ended up – except it was apparently deep into that disgusting Unmade infestation.

“Teleportation’s not even a difficult spell,” he grumbled, immediately slinging his pack to the ground and rifling through it for anything useful.

Provisions, all.

Seriously?

Budgets must be getting tight at Syntech. Practically no supplies and stranded on the wrong end of the… whatever. Galaxy? Supercluster?

This was not what one would consider an… auspicious beginning.

Kefka stood up, slinging his pack back over his shoulder. The militaristic olive drab didn’t exactly go well with his luxurious, brightly colored silks, but along with his de-potheosis returned pitiful weaknesses like hunger and thirst. He’d need the supplies eventually.

He’d found himself someplace nice. A windswept, pastoral land, peppered with the occasional tree, or bubbly wildflowers splashing some vibrant contrast to the many shades of green.

He was also wonderfully, peacefully, alone.

No current events. No live your best life. No celebrity reaction videos.

He shivered, suddenly feeling unclean.

If ever there was a single defining creation that would encapsulate the human condition better than celebrity reaction videos, he didn't know what it was. Sitting there, wasting your life and your limited cognition on what amounts to a stranger talking about their day.

They weren’t even videos about anything!

Videos about watching videos.

Even he couldn’t devise something so devilishly arbitrary.

He sighed. No Screamsicle either. At least that time he’d had someone to talk to.

Or… berate?

Whatever.

“IIII’ve got a love-ly bunch of coconuts,” he swayed to and fro, singing as he walked. “Dee-dee-d’lee,”

He punted a wee stone across the dirt ahead of him.

“Actually, they’re all just human skulls,” he hummed along, his own backup music, kicking the stone further along. “Big ones, small ones, all from those who need to be dead!”

He took a deep breath. “IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN West Imperial Vector, born and raised, on the battlegrounds, where I spent most of my days, killing and burning; relaxin’ all cool, and all shooting rebels; running them through…”

 

[Josuke Higashikata]

"By, arbiter! Why does everyone have to go for the hair!" Josuke fumes while taking his outer already semi-burnt purple coat that tasted the first layer of fiery flames annoyedly. He throws the parka jacket down onto the ground, making him feel a little lighter now with all the remaining clothes that encased him. During the chaos in the previous little fight, he lost his stylish sunglasses, but that didn't bother him any. Besides, being here was dreary, and no decent sunglass weather was present on Cevanti.

Holstering his grenade launcher, the pompadour stand user takes a comb out of his pocket to fix his hair carefully. After ensuring his hair is fine, he returns the nifty grooming tool by sliding it into a pants pocket.

Nothing but the unmade wastes surround Josuke while he traverses the post-apocalyptic landscape. He remembers stories of how deadly Cevanti can be, but this whole unmaking disaster has it dialed up to eleven now. Cevanti was not a vacationing spot he wished to visit, nor had he planned on traveling to see what this world's wonders were. Although, it is most likely that the Speedwagon Foundation might send him here soon to learn even more about how shit this unmaking event is causing. In the meantime, he gathers his confidence and strides through the dead land while resting his weapon on his shoulder, holding it firmly in a chill way.

"Feels weird using a weapon instead of my stand. Well, best to use the tools that Karl Jak sends to us. It's wicked that they got little legs to march toward their explosive destination. That's awesome." Josuke brandishes his new weapon, but after examining it, he rests it back on his shoulder again. "Hope Chara is ok out there. She seems like she can handle herself if thrown in a tough situation for her size."

When the outer coat came off from Josuke, his arms did feel less restrictive and more bendable to complete more tasks. The offensive landscape is putrid to his nose, taking a whiff of the decomposing atmosphere. "This air smells like ass!"

Walking alone bore the teenage stand user with no one to kill time alongside, making him have to hum a tune to stay on point. Even at one point, he just started singing softly to himself while hiking in the unmade nature. It did help to lighten the depressing mood a tiny bit.

"99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, 98 bottles of beer on the wall."

It was the only tune his head could think to pass the time while searching for his new buddy, Chara.

 

[Nico Cinder]

The teleporter shine lingered in his eyes, and a disgruntled Nico waved it away with his free hand. Damn nerds and their crazy light shows. His other hand, of course, clutched a mostly empty can of Synister™. He promptly drained the fizzy nectar and exhaled a big ol' sigh. It was quiet out here, that deathless kind of quiet. One of those places where the birds don't sing anymore.

"My fuckin' word is it dark out here," Nico muttered to no one in particular. And it was, curtains of shadow attached to every beam of sunlight. He used the quiet moment to find a tree to sit against and check his gear. The rucksack was heavy this year, ready to be rifled through. As his hand brushed against metal, a smile ripped the young man's lips. Someone, somewhere had a weird sense of humor. Nico snickered. So did he.

"Well, old girl, lets see how far we can run this year."

His gnarly death collar vibrated, and for a split second Nico thought maybe he was about to be spawn killed. Alas, no, not his lucky day. Karl Jak's dulcet tones serenaded the young punk with some information that, for all intents and purposes, changed little of what was going to happen here. He'd already been a part of an entire war against these zombified goons. If anything, it just got him all the more excited to delete some motherfuckers. Staring at his weapon leaned up against the tree next to him, Nico frowned, and wondered what Pecan was up to right now. Nothing good, probably. The contestant flipped his hood up and tilted his head.

*sniffsniff*

Blood in the air? Nico smacked his lips a few times, trying to get a taste for it, before going for his map. Whatever it was, it reminded Nico of pennies someone left in their cupholder on a hot day. Best to get moving, the quiet was starting to get to him. And while his surroundings were fairly hellish, Hell itself was a very noisy place. Lots of screaming, both the painful kind and the good time kind. Something about the deafening lack of sound here was more unsettling to Nico than the roar of any monster, the tortured screams of any poor soul. Trying to keep his mind off of it, he squinted at something blinking on the map. Wait a second, was that where he was, or where he was supposed to go?

 

[Izaneus Phortea]

The sun bore down as Shiki crept through the decrepit lands, her fob hanging uselessly from her neck, and her inhibiting bracelet clamped tightly to her risk. Frankly speaking, this was less than ideal. First, she dealt with the after effects of transportation, rather messy though it was... And very undignified. She shuddered at the thought.

The only sound being that of dirt and malformed rock grinding against her boots as she stepped. With a sigh, she pulled her hair into a tight knot, figuring tying it up would at least alleviate some of the growing discomfort the heat was generously radiating. "Lets see... Should be..." She said to no one, surveying the landscape tiredly. Despite having reserves of energy to pull on should the need arise.

Still, this was harrowing. Shed never been made to endure something of this caliber. This was far different from Izaneus's experience, she could tell. How was she supposed to compare them if they were so radically different?

The simple answer was that she wasn't, in any regard. She knew Izaneus dealt with his own tribulations. Yet she couldn't help but feel the urge to show him how much better she was.

A wave of guilt flooded her system as soon as that thought crossed her mind, it sounded beyond narcissistic. Honestly.

Taking a deep breath she trudged forward, instead focusing her internal strife into external motivation. This would be one of few ways she survived this. She could tell

With a small smirk she conjured the arcane, molding it into a small winter breeze flowing around her comfortably, and a relieved sigh escaped her lips as she did so. She could get through this. She told herself.

Looking on past the unmade horizon. Before turning back to her path. Understanding that no matter what happened. She simply needed to keep going... No matter how rough this whole thing is.

 

[Chara Dreemurr]

Finding Riddick again wasn’t hard, though she doubted he was expecting to see her, at the time. It was, likewise, not too hard to catch the shark’s eye.

A large part of her disliked Riddick already. The intimidation factor came with the assurance that this was a man who had done bad things and would do them again. The man was a mercenary who was here to make some cash, kill some bounty-holders, and get out. She could certainly understand someone wanting to kill Lilith - look how close she’d come even with the pre-show’s violence prohibition - but she did not respect greed as a motivating factor for violence, and it seemed to her like the only thing that made the monster register on his radar was the promise of a paycheque.

That same part also trusted Riddick in this instance. His confidence wasn’t the type that one had without the ability to live up to it, and his motivations were easy to understand. She didn’t need to worry about his ability to perform, or his willingness.

“Here I thought you were looking for an empty room, Marshmellow?” Riddick gave a taunt, as she leaned into the doorframe of where Riddick was. The mercenary didn’t even give her a look yet, as she flashed the trademark smile.

“I was. I ate. It is a lot easier to have a conversation when hangriness has left the building.” Chara replied, cockin her head. “...Tell me, would you be willing to entertain a bounty for me?”

That caused Riddick to stop for a moment. “For the right price. Can you pay?”

Chara’s smile grew wider. “Wonderful. I would be in a bad spot if I couldn’t cover my bases before heading out. I can give out some account information for a smaller account. Old hardware repair business… it was pretty successful.”

Riddick gave a nod, though it was clear he didn’t particularly care about the specifics of where the money came from. “Okay. Who’s the target?”

“It’s more of a conditional, but… myself.” Chara replied, and that finally caused the bounty hunter to turn around, a look on his face like he was ready for the joke and already thought it was painfully nasty.

“We’re deep in unmade territory.” Chara continued. “And that added a third way this can end.” the girl replied, her voice even as she continued. “I may end up living to see the teleporter repaired, at which point I paid a large sum of coin for nothing. I may end up dying for unrelated reasons, at which point I might not even need the coin. The final option is that the teleporter comes online sometime after I have been made unmade, and while the rest of the competitors leave, I am left to Darkseid’s service. That is something we need to avoid.” Chara explained, her clinical statements somewhat undercut by the seriousness to the words involved. “I have… things I know, places only I can go. Stuff Darkseid really does not need.”

Riddick looked her up and down with a disapproving frown that turned into a grin. “Tell me the account number.”

Chara quickly listed the numbers, and whatever else she saw of Riddick beneath that countenance, she could see his ability to memorise in his face.

“You’re being pretty stupid, you know.”

Chara would quirk an eyebrow. “For hiring you?”
“For hiring me to do something I would have done anyways. Something like that I’d do for free.”

Chara gave a shrug, hiding her own surprise at the answer. “...when someone enters a death tournament, I could be offering you all my life savings for assurance, and it would still be cheap. Not that I am offering you my life savings.”

Riddick cocked his head, adjusting his jaw as he tried to read her. She offered a chuckle in response.

“By the way, what was your name? I feel like ‘Vin Diesel’ got old around the first time I used it, and I like to keep my material fresh.” Chara would ask, as he looked her up and down.

“Riddick. And, word of advice? If you want to do this friendship stuff, it’s gonna be a whole lot harder when reality catches up, and you have to put someone down.”

Chara would regard him with a curious glance, thinking about the statement before responding.

“I am not expecting to make this sort of tournament a habit. I think if it results in even one more life saved, I am fine with taking the hard route. Besides… I think I would rather it be difficult. The easier killing becomes, the harder living does.”

Riddick just shook his head at the statement. “Suit yourself. It’s gonna blow up in your face, though.”

Chara’s smile went slightly crooked at the thought. For all she’d pinned Riddick as just a dangerous mercenary… he was surprisingly considerate. She had expected this to end cordially, but now…

Well, now she was actually starting to like him. At least the ‘him’ she was able to see in flashes, here and there. Chara was doing what many did to her - seeing the outer layer, missing the man beneath. She didn’t know what man was behind that wall, exactly, but she found herself curious about finding out.

“Probably”, Chara admitted, “but I will risk it."

Riddick turned to keep working on... whatever he was working on, and Chara took the opportunity to get back to that bee-a-u-tee-ful lady that she'd just met, looking back with one passing glance.

"...I am thankful." she quietly whispered, before vanishing with another step.

 

[Nearl]

After scrambling to get away from the psychopath she met by chance, the knight would attempt to create some distance between the two of them. Much to her luck, he seemed to shift his target to the just as hostile mechanical rodents. Slight pain stung her back as the mechanical whirring surrounded her. Creatures, not too unlike operator Mayer's Meeboo creations, with ill intent. Their ire did not discriminate by solely focusing on Gascoigne. When one decided to lash at her, its head was introduced to her foot. It stumbled momentarily, dazed by the knight's efforts before receiving a follow up punt that would send it flying away from her.

Chaos: It was something Nearl was no stranger to. She had seen cities fall, in more ways than one to ludicrous people that looked only to further their own goals by manipulating others. This was something different, malicious to the core. Beasts made with the sole purpose of wreaking havoc on innocent people. Her mind was made up. Destroying these monstrosities could save lives in the future but it was clear what she must do: Move on. Within moments of the contest starting, she had managed to find herself in trouble with some minor injuries. Without her signature spear, she was left to scavenge for whatever she could use as a weapon. Not mention just how this band attached to her wrist would affect her Arts assimilation.

Nevertheless, she would have to use such if she looked to escape. Raising her hand, golden beams of radiance would flare from the sky. Within her hand, a shard of her power grasped it's control. "日輪よ、私に頷け！" A small comet, of sorts, blazed from the sky which one could describe as a shard of the sun. It's path would meet with that of a group of Unmade, exploding into fire and crystal upon impact. The pegasean knight would waste no time standing on ceremony though, summoning her wings to get away from this battle - Only to find out midair that the accessory forced upon her was more than just that. No matter how she tried, her wings would not stabilize. She would carefully land some distance away from her shard of the sun, which was now a pile of glowing crystal. With nothing left in her way she was free to move onward, clear of any hostiles with any luck.

日輪よ、私に頷け！- "O sun, bow to me!"
Nichirin yo, watashi ni unadzuke!

 

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
#03 Kolith vs #27 Pyke​

Kolith had yet to pack up his makeshift campsite when he heard rustling out there in the darkness. Whoever was out there wasted little time, because in a beat, the vessel of the Elder Spirit heard what almost sounded like the squish of damp boots on the ground charging toward him.

Eyes shifting to his bag, he was tackled before he could reach it. Cold hands clasped around his throat as a baldheaded man with glowing eyes stared down at him. “Embrace the dark,” the figure rasped behind a cloth that concealed his maw.

The primal savage grasped at the hands around his throat. “Gallo… grant me, strength,” he wheezed as he grit his teeth.

Pyke, who had spent no time second guessing what would be an easy gank, found the feral man suddenly pulling his hands away from his neck with ease. With a growl that was more ursine than human, Kolith seemed to be reborn beneath the spectral assassin. The former denizen of Bilgewater started to gnash his own teeth as he gradually lost this show of strength with a now-shimmering tribesman. In a flash, Pyke had wrenched free of the grip and made it to his feet. The man, who seemed to have a bit of Udyr in him, moved for his duffel bag instead of immediately moving at Pyke.

There was a fleeting second when Pyke grinned and believed that he had a newfound opening against a strong yet foolhardy prey.

Then the BFG light up the night sky.

In the moment before he was ragdolled by the plasma blast, Pyke swore he’d return and slaughter this mongrel in his sleep.

Spoiler

Pyke will have scalding burns across his chest (Minor Injury)

 

[Ketkin Flynn]

Things could not be going much worse for our dear aquanaut. He spent the pre show trying to start conversations or listen in on one’s in progress but these people are entirely incomprehensible. The history of this program is rich and dense in ways his blue collar mind can hardly fathom. Rivalries. Ulterior motives. Shadowy puppet masters. This is no simple death match.

Ketkin was sitting with perfect posture when the time came. Equipment perfectly organized. Fob in hand. The teleportation induced nausea paired perfectly with the pit in his stomach. He landed in a small clearing. He fell to his hands and knees trying to regain his composure to no avail. there were miles of twisted trees in every direction and insidious rustlings that seemed to come from no direction at all. The air was dense and stuck to the inside of his lungs. He dropped his butt to his ankles and put his head in his hands, coming to terms with his situation.

The fine print of this competition could not have eluded him any more comprehensively. If he had known that syntech thought teleporting people was funny, he would have stayed as far away from them as possible. There has to be a better way. One that doesn’t get you stranded an apocalyptic planet with nothing but a few snacks and a teddy bear. Ket can’t remember the last day he spent without his suit. The collar he heard veteran contestants complaining about weirdly made him feel less naked, which is nice because his current location might be one of the top ten worst spots to be naked in the universe.

Ketkin politely excuses himself from his own pity party and stands up. He shoulders his survival bag with one arm and takes the teddy bear’s hand (henceforth known as Wilson). “Let’s move Wilson there’s no time to dawdle.” He pauses for a moment and holds the Wilson in front of his face to make eye contact. “Aaaaand I’ve already broken my promise to not talk to you as if you were alive.” He gives the doll a slight squeeze in frustration. “I love you!” Wilson exclaims in reply. “That’s nice Wilson.”

Ketkin and his only friend begin their hike towards what seems to be the aftermath of a vicious conflict. It’s hard to tell who the combatants are from this distance, but the stench of death and corrupted energy emanate from every cardinal direction. It appears That ket is about to get a degree in the unmaking from the school of hard knocks.

 

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
#15 Josuke vs #02 Trevor O’Skully​

As Karl watched, he took note that the theme had shifted from battlefields to people with tribal tattoos.

Josuke had taken to humming and singing to himself as he waited to find his companion or have enough sunlight that he could better see where he was headed on this foreign World.

“Thirteen bottles of beer on the wa—EH!”

Something had grabbed at Josuke’s right foot. At first, it was like a cold, dark embrace, but then the teenager found his foot paralyzed in that grip. Averting his gaze down, he saw the swirling energies in the ground and managed to hop away to prevent them from snatching up his other foot in their coiling clutches.

“Hello?” The stand user shouted as squinted to try and see better in the still near darkness of the early morning sky. “This is a terrible way to introduce yourself.”

A response came from behind Josuke, and the shock was almost enough for him to literally jump out of his skin. “I mean you no harm.”

“Not cool!” He shouted as he twisted around, a somewhat strained action given the tentacle of shadow energy wrapped around his foreleg. A few feet from Josuke, a man with long black hair stood with his hand outstretched.

“Surrender your equipment,” the man spoke somewhat softly. “You’re not a child, but you’re not fit for these environments. Hand over your supplies and head to the safehouse that the host mentioned.”

Josuke furrowed his brow. “Why don’t you give your stuff to me? Huh!”

“This isn’t a game. The unmaking is a genuine threat. Stand down.”

The teenager smiled. “Stand down? I can do a stand up, if you want?” Something glinted in Josuke’s eyes. “Crazy Diamond!”

‘Trevor O’Skully’ took this moment to crease his brow at the grin on the adolescent’s face and the nature of the gibberish he was talking about. Before he could piece together the situation, a fist exploded into his jaw.

“DORA!”

Trevor failed to protect himself against the next crushing blow, and then, just like that, a blur of a something was overwhelming him with a flurry of fists. “DOOOO-RARARARARARARARA.”

As his stand punished his aggressor, Josuke yanked his weapon from his bag and used to bash at the tendrils of energy that held him in place. His focus on the ground, he had just managed to liberate himself when he heard the whoosh of energy and saw Crazy Diamond smash into the ground in front of him.

“It’s over,” Trevor spoke as Josuke turned to see the man brandishing a red cannon on his forearm.

“Care to prove it?” The adolescent growled as he aimed the barrel of his own weapon.

His eyes on the stand as it stood back up off the ground, Trevor frowned. He wasn’t an idiot.

“This was your chance,” he remarked as he effortlessly vanished into the early morning shadows, leaving a frowning Josuke in his wake.

Spoiler

Trevor O’Skully has the Proto Buster

Crazy Diamond got walloped by said Proto Buster.

 

[Karl Jak]

Morning
(0600 – 1200)​

“Hello, can you hear me still?” Karl spoke into the microphone and into the ears (or ankles or wrists) of the various contestants scattered across the wilderness. “You’ve made it six hours in foreign environs… go you!

“I have some reports about the spread of the unmaking in this region. You’re going to want to update those maps, because they won’t do it for you! The following zones will be completely unmade within the next six hours:

K2
K5
D5
B4
P2
M1
G3

“Again… if you’re in one of those squares at noon, I can’t promise you’ll like the results!”

Karl turned to Kevin. “Do you think that was clear enough?”

“There’s always one or two.”

The executive producer frowned but ultimately just shrugged his shoulders and went back to his speech. “In good news, we’ll be teleporting in the first two quest items. Yes… TWO. These will beam down at noon sharp, so whoever is one the square can grab them… They will be located at D2 and Q5.

“We’re also sending some normal supplies as well… we’ll drop those a little earlier in the morning, so look out for mystery supplies at squares H7 and L5.

“In the future, we’ll be gearing up for an Easter Egg drop. We’ll be beaming in the Karot, but I’ll have information about that in six hours, along with a report we’ve received about a powerful monster that has surface.”

“Stay alive out there! Smoooooches!”

***

Out-of-Karl Bulletin

This phase ends tomorrow, 6-13 at 9 AM CST.

These first two Quest Item drops are undefended, which means no bosses or environmental dangers. Enjoy. Here are some more detailed rules on the Drop System… let me know in #salt-mines if my explanations need work or clarity, I don’t mind.

“Contesting a Quest Item” – Move onto the square ahead of time if you would like to contest for a Quest Item drop. I plan to hold off at least 6-8 hours to see who arrives before I post any F2F. The winner of that F2F will receive the item, even if others try to move onto the square later in the phase (because the winners will be on cooldown for the remainder of the phase). I’m doing this to prevent people feeling like they have to wait until the last second to move onto the square, to spare me from having to write a bunch of scenes right prior to the deadline. I hope this is understandable.

“Contesting a normal Item Drop” – Whoever is one these squares at 2 PM Central Time gets the item.

“Easter Egg” (doesn't apply today but will soon) – You DO NOT need to physically go to the Easter Egg location. Just send me a PM stating your plan to ‘contest the easter egg’ and you’re good.

"Boss Battle" -- A fight against a potent NPC. You will have to physically travel to these squares, but many of them will be OPTIONAL. Day 1, Part 4 will 'unlock' a Boss Battle at Square J5, for those who want to plot out movements far ahead of time.

Notes on Cevanti - https://multerra.zulenka.com/wiki/cevanti/ - I’d pay attention to the terrain/climate and wilderness blurbs if you’re unsure what or how to write Cevanti. While we focus on Markov since that’s where most people like to stay (for obvious reasons XD), remember that Cevanti was a pretty normal, plausibly beautiful place before ‘the End’ (the disaster that ‘killed’ most of it). The green portion of the map will likely look much like a primordial forest of sorts, spotted with ruins and stuff. The unmade regions will also be like this, but y’know, in the process of rapidly being unmade.

 

[Gildarts]

A catapult from her amazonian legs launched the specter through the air. Colliding the momentum swung against him, the sheer brawn of the opposing figure was only taken down by the fact that he’d been caught off guard.

Meanwhile the specter became a stream of smoke that couldn’t seem to control her own phasing. She fought against the strain of dense man’s muscle and the tangle that the Syntech anklet skewed her power and found a collection of battering blows phase in and out of her misty mesh of being.

Christine snarled as she fought for the upperhand. A tussle that was a swirl of movement, defined by clouds of stringy smoke as her enemy did his best to dodge through it while still on his back. He’d met her ferocity without the codependence of the dark magic she seemed to possess. Nothing made contact for either of them until an elbow clocked the woman’s jaw as she was caught phasing through the void.

The force of it echoed a hollow, diminished pain as she returned by stuffing her fleshless, smoky arm into his mouth and brutally materializing her fist inside his mouth so that her balled knuckles rested against his throat. Her motion, fueled by a craving for blood and survival, she flexed her form and the gagged man with pale blue eyes staring back at her from the darkness.

Her vile eyes were thirsty for the kill.

The man’s eyes however did not hold the fear of death, in fact, they blazed with the holiness of certainty. The gentle press of a weapon touched the right side of her ribs, the sound of whirling met her ears as it grew ready to pop. She didn’t have to look down to know his finger was set on the trigger.

“Merde.” Shit. She uttered and released her arm, welcoming a thick layer of saliva with the gentle fluctuation as the vapor of her arm receded. Her hand dissolved then returned to her natural form so that the man could see the spectral being’s power slowed down. She turned on her natural French charm and offered, “It seems I think you’d make a better friend than enemy.”

Of course, it had everything to do with the gun shoved between her ribs. But alas, her hand had been in his throat, so there wasn’t much else a woman could do.

Christine smiled as all hostility dissipated at the gentle bat of her lashes. She took a moment to pull from the heft of his bearded face and took another look at the gun again, confirming she’d made the right call. Huge fuckin’ gun. And it looked lethal.

Then, she politely rolled off him in a gush of smoky vapor and landed into the leafy debris a pace away, sitting directly across from him. Her eyes still and fixed on him.

The man coughed, still glaring at her as his throat sputtered for words. However, she’d ceded her victory.

Christine didn’t know why she hadn’t gone the extra singular inch that it would’ve taken. One inch til death and he’d have rang the fucking dinner bell.

Chwistine, why isn’t dat guy moving anymore? She heard a little echo of the little squirt in her mind. If he had seen what she was capable of... Had the value she placed on his life somehow translated into her holding back in this moment?

However, she also didn’t know why this indomitable man didn’t do the same. One click would’ve been enough. Maybe.

Instead of either of them seizing the last effort it would’ve taken for a life, both had for whatever reason, had not. This was supposed to be a game of who could kill who first. Killer Christine, would be reduced to nothing more a murderer who’d lost her nerve? No, she’d simply found a new one. A little green ball of cuteness.

Oh that note she thought, everyone else, even Karl Jak could, Va te faire foutre. Kiss her ass.

 

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
Father Gascoigne​

A lesser hunter would have fled.

A lesser hunter would have shied at the challenge.

Father Gascoigne was no lesser hunter.

As the last of the unmade sagged to the earth, the towering beast of a man noticed something glimmer in the wreckage.

Spoiler

Father Gascoigne has a litany of small injuries (amounts to one Minor Injury)

Father Gascoigne receives ‘Type-1 Energy Weapon’

Just for clarity's sake, this stemmed from a 'Choose your own adventure' prompt.

 

[Lilith]

With her anticipation reaching its zenith, Lilith flung open the supply case as soon as it unlocked, rummaging through all the goodies. Mostly junk, as to be expected, but two shiny toys amidst the trash would prove their usefulness.

At first she was disappointed by the conventional nature of her super special unique item, subject to collateral damage from her abilities. However, her mind buzzed with creative scenarios for it outside of transformation. It didn't match her style, but in a pinch, every resource counts.

"Same stuff as that other game." Lilith gingerly tapped the duffle bag, stowing it in her inventory because she is not lugging that stupid fucking thing around again.

Karl Jak, the man so famous and popular for reasons Lilith did not bother looking up, finally gave the go ahead.

"Let's get this show rolling!" Without an ounce of hesitation, the bloodthirsty fiend slammed the button, propelled to another world at a million miles a second. Tripping face first into the desolate earth marked her unceremonious arrival. Dusting herself off, she examined her surroundings.

If she could see a damn thing, anyways. "Ugh, this bullshit again?!" she groaned. Guess I'll just stumble around in near pitch darkness. The map should give her an idea—

And right on time, as if planned all along, Karl Jak explained the situation. This sort of spiel was white noise to Lilith. She'd heard enough updates from that other host, though honestly she preferred his voice to the celebrity's. Did she miss a crucial detail? Probably.

According to the map, a completely Unmade perimeter surrounded this year's unexpected arena. I crushed those pushovers before. Familiar territory to the Butcher of Hope. Unlike the sunken city of Nausicaa, vast stretches of corrupted wasteland enveloped these hostile ruins. Seemed like she was late to the party considering death and decay steeped everything in sight.

Saliva coated Lilith's pink lips. Less filler meant she could focus on a few juicy targets at a time, just how she liked it. Now who would take the bait first…

What's my pet up to? Mingling with friends, she guessed. Clinging to their worthless aspirations. I will stamp out your beliefs, and I won't let anyone get in my way. Our showdown is destined.

Until then…

"Is everyone watching? You don't wanna miss this~" Not her usual type of broadcast, but she'd take advantage of it nonetheless. Lilith twirled and flaunted her sensual body, teasing and tantalizing the audience. Along her left arm she rubbed a finger, stopping at her wrist. She built up the suspense, before…

Klsh

With a swift flick, she liberated her vein from its sinewy prison, coaxing out a maroon ribbon. It streamed down the taut skin it withdrew from, breaking off into marble-sized puddles. The droplets surged into the stagnant air, floating like a red dust cloud.

"I don't want to ruin this pretty outfit. Y'all have to wait until my first real fight, then we can get hot and heavy~" Her velvety words ought to entice the viewers for her upcoming encounter.

One small issue with her plans. The dangers of this planet were a nuisance.

Skulking about the monumental wreckage, a pack of wild hound mechs encroached on the sultry woman. The scraping metal was warning enough. She bolted to find higher ground, as the horde of blue lights chased her down. Lilith commanded her legs to move faster, but even as she reached her limit, it did not compare to the advanced automatons. Instead of shaking off the zoids on foot, however, she leaped to the wall of the collapsed building, allowing a small reprieve.

It's not like she had to run away, but she made a promise, damn it! So as she perched on the ancient spire like a cat stuck in a tree, she pelted the feral robot dogs with high-velocity blood, though it may as well be pebbles to their armored hulls. The pack retreated eventually, and the not-quite-nude lady delved further into the night.

Lilith receives self-inflicted blood loss. (Story injury)
Endurance 2
Agility 2
Speed 1
Hemokinesis Damage 2

 

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
#17 Nearl vs #22 Fennec Shand​

She had cased out the area long before the knight wandered into the scene. Still dripping bile from the unmade monsters she had recently vanquished, Nearl seemed a bit distracted, most likely lingering fatigue and a sprinkle of genuine displeasure at a first exposure to the madness of the Fallen Arbiter.

With the sun threatening to crest over the horizon, Fennec moved forward, hoping to see what—or who—had wandered into this zone. The bounty hunter’s movements were virtually soundless, but Nearl, her stoic resolve somewhat frayed from the recent assaults she had endured, seemed all the more alert to everything around her. As she drew closer and saw the heaving of the knight’s chest and the expression on her face, Fennec momentarily considered withdrawing and leaving the elements to deal with this one.

Supplies, however, were hard to come across on this barren World.

Fennec sprung, her improvised blade failing to find purchase against the armor that the blonde woman wore over her lithe form.

A rock smashed into the bounty hunter’s head. She saw a spattering of stars as she rolled off of Nearl and moved back into the darkness that surrounded them.

“My resolve is unwavering!” Nearl boomed as the sky around them suddenly light up like a holiday celebration.

As Fennec watched, this newfound light literally started to harden, until there was a jaded chunk of glowing, crystalline sun hovering about the blonde. A pulse erupted, and Fennec felt her vision stolen from her as she swallowed a gasp and scrambled on hands and knees away from whatever the fuck she thought she had the drop on.

Spoiler

Fennec’s vision will be blurred for the rest of this phase (Story Injury)

Nearl used Blazing Sun's Obeisance (a finite effect that’ll be available to her again in two posts or the start of the next phase, whichever occurs first).

 

[Omelette Robotnik]

Grey skies marked the coming dawn long before the first streamers of sun slipped by the mountains to the east. In the darkness of the night before, the two adventurers had only gotten hints about exactly how bad the corruption of this world was. Now, in the light of a new day, such detail came into stark relief. Massive mechanical wrecks lay alongside crumbling ruins, with trees growing right up to, and sometimes through them. But this was practically banal compared to what the Unmaking had done.


Though there appeared to be pockets of ‘resistance’ here and there, the majority of the landscape around them was twisted and changed in disconcerting ways. Jagged fingers of stone stretched towards the heavens while the earth around them bubbled and boiled strangely. The trees seemed to be made of melted wax, bark and leaves sloughing off before their very eyes. Even the sun, when it finally made its appearance, seemed somehow dimmer than it should be.


Not that the little goblin noticed any of it. Mechanically, he put one foot in front of the other, stumbling here and there as his body struggled to maintain an upright position. Fear and determination had fueled him through the night, but under the pressure of sleeplessness, they had become muted; subsumed by a terrible fog that slowed his thoughts and weighed down on his limbs. Jester had long-since taken to carrying both of their bags, but she could see Slurt wouldn’t make it much longer without proper sleep.


Remembering something about a ‘safe house’ nearby, Jester shifted a bag to her front and zipped it open. Eyes on the little boy in front of her, she was surprised when her hand touched something soft and spongy, rather than the hard casing of the tablet, or the stiff plastic of the rations. Surprise and curiosity pulled her eyes down to the bag before her and she was shocked by what she saw. It was practically overflowing with individually-bagged sandwiches and small bottles of shelf-stable milk. And each of the sandwiches had a small, yellow post-it note stuck to them.


Have a good time on Murder Island!

-Karl


Made with “love”!

-Karl


I hope you’re not allergic to peanut butter!

-Karl


I’m going to fire whoever let a 5 year old kid join this year…

-Karl


How the Hell did I get roped into making these? KEVIN!!!

-Karl Kevin


Jester couldn’t help but to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all.

 

[Fennec Shand]

Fennec scrambled frantically through the dilapidated brush, pushing herself off the ground and breaking into a sprint. The trees before her twisted and wiggled this way and that, the woman’s attack having sufficiently damaged her vision. She pushed through the trees as quickly as she could, shirking all need to be quiet. Branches tore and dirt kicked up behind her until finally she broke through the tree line and into another clearing, tripping over something as she did so.

She slammed into the ground, her bag tumbling off her and its contents spilling out across the cracking gray soil. She groaned as she rolled over onto her back, sitting up and spitting blood onto the ground.

Her eyes fell onto what she’d tripped over.

A mangled, dead creature, looking altogether like a metallic, robotic wolf or some similar type of monster, lay dead before her eyes. It glimmered ever so slightly in the rising sunlight, goopy black liquid oozing from its insides and onto the ground around it. Fennec sighed. So there really were unmade here, then.

This was significantly more than she’d bargained for. She knew the psychopaths who sponsored this event liked to throw in twists and turns, and she remembered they’d fashioned some fake-but-realistic unmade monsters to claw and gnaw at the contestants the previous year. Yet, somehow, being sent into the wilderness of Cevanti — at the mercy of actual, honest-to-Arbiter unmade creatures, seemed to be the height of ridiculousness.

Was thousands of coin worth this?

She thought back to her deal with the master codebreaker. The job was relatively nondescript thus far, but from what she could tell, it would involve going to Inverxe and tangling with more of these beasts. Dropping down onto the surface of the snowy moon wasn’t for the faint of heart to begin with, but every since it had been attacked and its Arbiter compromised, it had turned from a death trap into a veritable suicide mission.

She wondered, deep beneath her confident surface, if she’d be up for the challenge. She’d spent her almost sixty years in this galaxy choosing her jobs carefully, strategizing her life almost to a fault. Her marks were never easy, but she’d grown up knowing her limits, and knowing how to set herself up for the most success possible. Throwing herself into the wilds of Inverxe — and, quite on accident, the Wastes of Cevanti — for a chunk of change wasn’t exactly in line with that mission.

Gnawing at her, though, for years now, had been a different question. In the face of a changing universe… a universe with so many young, ridiculously powerful warriors, all trying their hand at becoming the next big threat to anyone who might dare challenge them… should she, too, change?

Should she embrace the challenge, and in the process, become even better at something she’d become already verifiably one of the best at?

She turned and began to gather her things from the ground, collecting her MREs, her water, the tablet with the map, etcetera and stuffing it back into her bag. Tiny things clinked as they bounced down to the bottom of the duffel. She stood, and slung it on her shoulder.

Just ahead of her, another unmade zoid lied splattered against the rocky soil, freshly killed. No doubt these weren’t the only creatures of their kind roaming the wastes, and even just a few hours removed from the game’s start, someone had been here and ripped them to shreds. That person… whoever they were… they had risen to the challenge already, they had embraced a new way of living, a new way of fighting, a new way of not dying.

Alright, then. Being incredibly adept at being old-school wasn’t enough. But she could play this game their way.

Fennec sprinted once more into the brush.

 

[Sandor Clegane]

They sat for a time while Slurt consumed one of his bagged sandwiches, and Jester filled the idle air with meaningless words: candid observations about the ruinous landscape, a remark about a nearby structure that had probably once stood tall but now spilled out over the ground like a fallen Jenga tower, a large metal plate that looked like it might’ve once belonged to a Zoid hindquarter, and more.

“...and you know what I really like? I really like the way that the ivy over there kind of reaches its way right up the side of that crumbling wall, you know? Even with all the Unmaking, and the old stuff all over the place, that little vine is still determined to keep growing, and climbing and…” the Tiefling trailed off, peering at Slurt.

The goblin had finished his sandwich and had begun staring at the ground with the quiet intensity that belonged to the truly exhausted. Was the kid already starting to crack on the first morning of the first day? …or maybe he was just sleepy. Probably just sleepy.

“You are kind of like that little vine, actually, my little squish-face. Even with allll the odds against you, you’re going to keep growing, and flourishing, and you’re going to grow up to be the best and strongest squish-face any of us have ever seen,” she declared, cooing and beaming at the little boy.

He perked up a little bit at that, then tilted his orb-like eyes upward to meet Jester’s own vibrant pink ones.

“Miss Jestaw…do you think Miss Chwistine is gonna find us pwetty soon?” the small voice of the child asked, pulling at her heart strings.

“Oh, little squish-face…I am sure that she’s going to find us pretty soon. Probably. She is probably just walking around looking for us right this very moment, and I’m sure that she is very safe and that anybody she comes across will be so afraid of her that they’ll just…” Jester scurried her fingers across the air in a mimicry of somebody running. “...run right away! …probably.”

Slurt smiled, revealing a row of pointy teeth; he seemed to take solace in that scenario.

“Thanks, Miss Jestaw. I bet we’ll find hew even befowe today is over.”

Jester bobbed her head in agreement, but her gaze was drawn to the vine once more. Reaching its prising grasp up the ruins as far as it could go, the vine had grown quite long…however, it would never outgrow the crumbling wall it was confined to.

The Tiefling began to fidget with the ribbon adorned to her curled ram’s horn. She rubbed it between a blue thumb and forefinger, and contemplated.

“Yeah. Of course. Before today is over,” the Cleric agreed, trying not to betray the strands of doubt she felt in her voice.

 

[John Connor]

Day 1- ????- In the Heat of the Night to Morning glory

The moon and stars gleaned off the metallic endoskeleton and greenish jacket in the middle of the night as the small light Connor and company had was all the two needed to continue their harrowing journey. Blank stares between man and terminator was all they needed to communicate in their own ways.

The night in the desert wastelands near Cevanti didn’t seem so bad if it meant there were extra ways to survive and stock up for the night. The terminator didn’t need to eat or drink so the food supplies were appropriately rationed and cut in half enough so that John could survive a day and half on food, and some of the drink. The average human body could last longer with drink than food and with the terminator there, finding supplies would be that much easier he’d hoped.

“John, over here. There is a cactus with flowing water inside. Stock up, you’ll need it later.”

The soldier took something long and stuck it within the cactus’s body and sure enough, fresh water flowed. After taking a light few sips of water and eating some food, Baum filled the bottle with fresh cactus water. It would have to do for now.

The terminator stood guard, appearing to be in a daze, staring while Connor set up his makeshift campsite for the night. Knowing the terminator was on guard made things a little less daunting for the man.

Instead of sleeping, the Commander was on guard planning his next moves in his tent with his map and started to mark off directions of where to go and where danger would lead them. Sleep was dangerous during this game and he knew it. The terminator couldn’t sleep so it made it easier.

Under the cover of night, the desert would make better infiltration and to add to the potential benefits, the cooler temperatures would aid in keeping shady for now.

A fur lined jacket was perfect for temperate climates at night, not so charming for a super hot desert in the mornings.

Under the disguise of night, the metallic being pushed himself up and entered the makeshift tent Connor had made, he pointed to the map and moved his finger to a space.

“What do you think?” The General muttered lightly to the terminator in question.

The terminator frowned, “This threat around us will begin to grow soon unless we move.”

John frowned “You’re right, the unmade is no game and the more valuable seconds we waste is too many already.

As they kept moving, the golden rays of sunlight peeked out from the horizon and Karl once again sent an announcement through the band on John’s coat.

“Welcome to the next 6 hours, folks. It sure is a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Karl replied in the most monotone voice he could mutter through the bands.

The unmade threat will continue to grow, so I suggest you get moving.”

The heat started to warm the desert climate up as the man took another light sip of water.

Things were awfully familiar about this place, like deja-vu happening over time. He hadn’t seen the familiar places yet, but it felt like last year’s Dante’s Comet. However there was more of a mix to things this year.

There’s no telling what strings Karl pulled to pull these locations in.

John muttered something under his breath as he remembered the locations he was stationed at between the fire princess’s unlikely palace and the golden king’s palace.

It was hard to tell what dog of war he was over time last year to be honest. Azula and Gilgamesh were always pulling on his leash and he was finally able to pull loose.

 

[Rogue]

It was bright and early when me and the kid set out from the safe zone, not that either of us had been feeling confident or foolish enough to try and sleep during the morning hours. A safe zone was only safe until someone proved it wasn’t after all. Ah’d briefly considered heading towards the coast for the item that Karl had mentioned, but we needed three of them to get out of here, and that was the easiest one to reach. It didn’t seem likely that everyone else would just ignore that opportunity, so there was no need to make things complicated by overcrowding the place. We were all looking to get off the planet together this year, right? Ah chuckled, barely believing my statement myself.

Chara was trudging forwards with her hands in her hoodie’s pockets, keeping those sunglasses on still. She had me curious, ah couldn’t deny that.

“Well hun, ah’ll be honest, you’re not exactly what ah tend to imagine when ah consider the kinds of folks that would sign up for the ‘Crossroad’s deadliest conflict’. What’s a kid like you doing out here?”

She gave an easy smirk in response.

“Kid? You have a few years on me, at most, gorgeous. While I cannot vouch for the abyss only picking people who merit being a part of it, I can say that I needed to be here. What about yourself? Seems a shame to ruin a smile that radiant.”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty head about a country gal like me, Sugah. Ah know what ah’m gettin’ in to.”

Ah smiled back at her. So that was the game was it? The two of us just smiling like fools at each other without explainin’ anything? Fine. Ah’d push a little harder then.

“So you’re either lookin’ to get yourself killed out here, or you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve.”

Chara was probably giving me a sidelong glance right now, though the shades made it hard to be certain. Chara raised one hand, responding pretty matter-of-factly.

“I doubt many people would come here without some measure of ability to fend for themselves.”

“That’s true. Ah suppose Karl doesn’t get much sport in the buncha us getting slaughtered by these Unmade chumps on a forgotten corner of the Crossroads. Seems like a poor deal for us, and poorer entertainment for everyone watching.”

Chara definitely gave me a glance at that one. So she’d some experience with the stuff.

“What are you after, beautiful?” She kept up the teasing names, her tone seeming even more casual now than it had a moment before.

“Just curious, mostly.” Ah smiled widely once more, “The way ah see it, we’re all in this together, right? Only makes sense to strategize, wouldn’t you say, Sugah?”

Chara propped her hands back behind her head, shrugging lazily. She wasn’t buying it, but ah figured ah’d already pushed it too far to try and backpedal now.

“That so? Typically when someone is fishing for information, they start by sharing some.”

“Well, hun, ah’m not lookin’ to make you uncomfortable. If that was my goal, there’s more fun ways to be doing that.” Ah leaned in, elbowing her with a smirk. “Ah don’t mind surprises if that’s the way we need to keep things. Ah can tell you that ah’m not plotting anything nefarious or nothin’.”

Chara just kept on smiling back at me, "...yeah, but you can also tell me the sky is made of potatoes and you have a secret chopper hidden behind that bush. Words are fun that way!"

The moment she pointed towards the bush there was a crunching sound from the nearby underbrush, causing us both to pause mid-stride. Within seconds a wolf-sized mechanical construct barreled towards us, its metal twisted and rent in unnatural ways, and the eyelights a sickly unnatural purple hue. Ah dove to one side as it leapt towards us. Chara on the other hand merely stepped to one side. In an instant she was behind the charging mechanism, an array of red blades materializing into view and starting to arrange in the air behind her.

The creature skidded to a halt, turning to leap at me. Without better alternatives, ah swung my duffle bag, intercepting its leap as best ah could. Ah fell over backwards, but the unmade mechanical creature was foiled from making a meal of me, its leap instead redirected into a similarly twisted tree. Ah winced in pain, as the creature’s rear claws scratched along my left arm. Even that glancing blow was enough to draw some red, and tore my sleeve in the process.

Ah jumped up, expecting the beast to be on me again in an instant. Instead, ah turned to find the beast with a glowing red knife protruding from its flank. With a repeated thud, blade after blade flew through the air, striking into the side of the metal beast. To its credit it managed to shrug of one or two of the strikes, but the repeated barrage started to carve off loose bits of metal, then whole chunks of the machine. Ah winced as the monster fell to pieces in front of me.

Ah glanced back to Chara, her hands still in her pockets, with quite a few blades still hovering in the air around her as she glanced at the surroundings. The blades slowly faded back into non-existence as she looked back at me.

“We should keep moving. I doubt one of those creatures is moving alone.”

“Sure thing, Sugah. Thanks for the save!”

“Of course.”

She probably noticed how eagerly ah was staring at her right now, but ah couldn’t help it. Now that looked like something ah needed to try!