”Good afternoon, down there! It looks like you’ve all made it through another phase with no further casualties...congratulations are in order, I suppose! Take a moment to enjoy your continued survival, if you like, before we move on.
. . . . . .
All prepared? Excellent!
Starting next phase, the following spaces will become Dead Zones:
The space left available on our little island is growing rather slim, isn’t it? Make sure to keep alert out there, now!”
Bulletins and Updates
SchedulingSchedulingSchedulingSchedulingSchedulingScheduling. This phase will last until 8:00 PM EST on November 22.
The weather on the island has shifted to an eerie atmosphere. The sky has filled with thick, dark cloud cover shot through with errant flashes of violet light but no further lightning. The sun seems to have disappeared, casting everything into a dull illumination similar to mid-afternoon. Static flashes and crackles everywhere now, even in the safe spaces, and small patches of land seem to spontaneously disappear and reappear. The former sounds of static have vanished entirely, as have all other noises - wind, water, animal life, the storm overhead - plunging the island into an eerie, dead silence.
And so it was - their head was, in fact, heavy. Such an odd mixture of things progressed within their brain, now, that Princess Dekugo was quite certain they were losing their mind. Had it been the fusion? The crown? Three days without sleep? Maybe the fever that was taking them?
Whatever it was, they felt invigorated despite that. Over the last six hours they had stood at the precipice of madness, but now they were sitting on its edge and dipping their feet in the water beyond to test it - and it didn’t feel bad.
Silence surrounded them, and reality seemed to shift and sway under the influence of something strange. Whether that was part of what was actually happening or part of the bizarre influence of the Virus, they were uncertain. Princess Dekugo ran a hand, mostly numb, through the sweat soaked locks of their green hair streaked with blonde, and with a sharp intake drew a breath. The air travelled to their lungs, but felt hot on the way down. Something was very wrong inside of their body. ...despite that, they felt...strong. Powerful and hungry. Hungry to finish the job they’d started here on the island.
Once more the leering visage of Sigma appeared in their scouter, grinning back at them, but this time they did not feel angry at it. As a matter of fact, it was as if there were three of them living comfortably in an apartment together, and that they’d learned to operate in a way that did not infringe upon any of the others. They were sharing this body now, carefree, and things really seemed to be clicking, man. The trio of Deku, Bakugo, and Sigma had struck up a trinity synergy that was giving them energy, and it felt like they were on top of the world and headed for first place.
Prince(ss) Dekugo adjusted the crown on their head and looked past the low opacity outline of Sigma in the scouter. With some measurable effort to bypass the fog of war descending over their brain, they took note of the other remaining combatants’ locations, and found themselves surprised at how many were left. It was a pleasant surprise, though. So many bodies scattered about the island meant that there was still plenty of opportunity to slake the thirst for blood mounting in their body. It was reassuring. Even the part of them that was Deku had mostly succumbed to the influences now piloting their fused body.
One of the blips was very close. A single dot with no companions, all alone, just a stone’s throw away.
Dekugo moved with wolf-like efficiency and hunger, loped through the hills, but stopped suddenly. A massive amount of black and white...pixels? Seemed to be obstructing their path. Someone was out there, WAY out there, past the point of no return. Out in the ocean of Dead and Danger Zones. Some part of the back of their mind reminded them that striding out into that abyss...well, that might spell their death.
“Can’t go out there,” rasped Dekugo, and the sound of their voice sounded far away and dry like a husk of what it had once been. The part of it that was Deku, and the part that was Bakugo both sounded sick and had lost some of the musical harmony the fusion had imbued them with. “Won’t be able to find my way back. ...lost too much of my focus.”
They shook their head off as if they’d breached water, trying to shake away some of the fog, and found that it did nothing. The odd insatiable anger remained, driving them towards other combatants. ...they picked an area on the scouter they felt likely some others would soon land - after all, not much space was left, as the surreal sounding announcer had reminded them - and turned their murderous stalk of a stride in that direction.
Both hands leveled the Chicago Typewriter dead ahead. If anything came in their path, they’d make swiss cheese out of it and dance on its grace. ...the thought made Dekugo smile an ugly, impish smile. An arrogant smile, and it was that of Sigma.
Face-off
#001 The Prisoner, #003 Gengar & #010 Weiss vs #004 Gollum
An awkward silence had descended on the odd group as they wearily trudged through the rugged plains. Farmland, it might have once been, but...it seemed anything but that now. Ragged and hilly, with many holes and patches of dead, brown and wilted land. It barely even seemed fit for anything living, let alone growing anything.
In the middle of all this, they came upon something distinctly odd. An old, small house. Barely a shack, really, stuck in the shadow of a looming embankment of dirt. Dug out and shored up by hand, with timbers and roughly-cut support beams. Plenty of old hand tools were leaning up against it, or else scattered near to the side. A beat-up old truck sat near at hand under a similarly roughshod awning. Just a few hundred paces from the joining of two rivers. It wasn’t a bad spot for such a thing, as far as they went, but…
The oddity was sitting in the shadow of the old shack. A cardboard box, covered in dust and grime but still miraculously intact and in one piece. Not falling apart or covered in the muck of years like everything else in this little out of the way home.
“This has gotta be a trap,” Gengar muttered, leering at the box.”Just way too obvious.”
The Prisoner nodded its silent assent, looking around the area intently.
“I don’t know. It’s just...a box. Maybe someone just left it here?” Weiss spoke up.
“Yeah. One of the other losers participating in this murder-fest, probably,” Kazooie added. “So either some kind of bait, or else they were just being stupid.”
While the mostly undead group were discussing the box...something happened.
The beat up old truck heaved and sputtered, the engine rattling and knocking as it slowly wheezed to life. Thick clouds of oily smoke belched out of its exhaust, and a straining of rusted metal sounded as it was forced into gear. Old, worn out and rotted tires squealed in the mud as they spun and lurched the truck into motion, careening toward the group.
With a myriad of curses and surprised expressions they scattered, even as the vehicular missile tore across the fields in a crazy manner and swiftly upended itself, toppling over in a heap. Smoke and steam rose from its burst tires, and the engine weakly rattled and sputtered itself to a stop.
With a scowl, Gengar phased out of the ground near the truck and angrily blew out the windshield with a shadow ball. “Alright, you crazy little…” he came up short, staring blankly. “Thing’s empty. Ain’t nobody in here!” he called toward the others.
“Then what in the heck was that about…? Last I checked, things can’t drive themselves!” Weiss looked around again uncertainly.
Near the old shack, the mess of old tools rattled and shook. Dust fell in a light snow as one by one they slowly shifted and fell over, clattering on the ground...and then heaved up into the air, levitating unsteadily.
The Prisoner jumped to attention, and quickly patted Weiss’s shoulder to grab her attention, pointing toward the floating bundle of tools...just as they steadied pointing toward them and launched through the air.
“Oh, come on!” The disarmed huntress whined, as she scrambled awkwardly aside.
The brittle old tools blanketed the ground in a rough smattering of impacts, many of them simply snapping or breaking altogether on impact as they failed to do anything of note.
Then they all heard it. The whispery, gurgling laugh echoing in the silence. Gleeful, maddened and absolutely maniacal. Dirt shifted and fell down from the looming hillside, and then the shambling form of Gollum came crawling into view. His pale eyes seemed to glow with a visible flame as he leered down at the group. From a hole in his chest, dark ichor staining and crusting around it, there could be seen a pale blue glow.
“”What the heck are you supposed to be?!” Gengar snapped, sword instantly in hand.
In response, there was only a wordless grin and a low hissing breath. Gollum’s body lifted up, his head lolling unnaturally and limbs shuffling awkwardly...and heaved himself down from the hillside. The shack below him shuddered and groaned as it tore itself apart, its wreckage and debris lifting into the air to dance around the scrawny creature in a whirling screen.
“Heads up, we got a fight on our hands!” Kazooie shouted, and with a roaring noise the chainsaw was in her hands and at the ready.
Then both sides of the fight crashed into each other. Gollum fought with all the unnatural strength he possessed, the strange gifts he had suddenly come across serving him well. In spite of being outnumbered, the very environment around him was his to manipulate; just another extension of his warped, insane will to strike and batter at his foes from every angle.
His body was cut and battered and burned and carved apart. His sticky, dark blood stained the ground. It seemed only to spatter from fresh wounds, and no longer dripped and flowed from his emaciated frame.
His opponents were not so lucky, as he in turn utterly brutalized them. He kicked and punched and headbutted and battered and bit at them with everything he had, clubbed and swung his crowbar recklessly and with wild abandon, and ripped up everything about him to throw at them all. He shrieked and spat and laughed and sang like he had gone utterly insane.
….but it wasn’t enough. All his manic, crazed strength and desperation wasn’t enough. He was cut down, literally carved into pieces by his foes’ bladed weapons. Even then, he lay there cackling and laughing at them, still clawing and spitting and biting at them, his body just refusing to let go and die, until the last moment.
The last moment when Gengar put a hand directly in his face, and unleashed a shadow ball, turning the disgusting little creature into only a stain in the dirt.
#004 Gollum eliminated
11 Contestants Remain
Gollum had the Cardboard Box.
Gollum was pressured into using one application of Focus.
The Prisoner, Gengar and Weiss have suffered a multitude of terrible bludgeoning and bite wounds from Gollum (Major Injury all together).
The Prisoner has suffered a fractured leg (Minor Injury) and has had large chunks of flesh ripped out of its chest and both legs (Minor Injury).
Gengar has suffered from several crowbar bashes to his head and face, resulting in severe concussion and slight blindness in one eye (Major Injury).
Weiss has suffered several minor fractures and bite wounds to one leg (Minor Injury), had a pitchfork impale her in the gut (Minor Injury) and had a large rock broken over her head (Minor Injury).
“Nothing here either, friend,” said Pathfinder with a dejected twinge in his vocalizer. He straightened up from where he’d been peering behind a fallen log, glancing around at the lightly forested plain they’d wandered onto, and found that it was just the same as he remembered it: depressingly empty.
Well. Empty save for one very grumpy simulacrum, anyway.
“What do you mean, nothing?” Revenant demanded, his glass n’ gravel vocals lending an extra level of harshness to his words. “We’ve been searching for hours. One of those skin suits has to be around here somewhere.”
“The announcer did say that a few other contestants died over the island intercom this morning,” Pathfinder responded thoughtfully, perking up a bit. “I had no idea Dr. Caustic was competing! I wonder if my best friend killed him. Mirage and Wraith make a very good team—“
“Unlike us,” Revenant interrupted with a hiss. “We’ve been wandering this island for three days and don’t have a single kill.”
“At least the arena’s shrinking,” the MRVN pointed out helpfully, his screen glowing with a sunny smiley face. “That’ll bring our enemies right to us!”
Their conversation lulled for a moment as the two regarded the changing island around them. No longer were rolling fields and distant stretches of glittering ocean visible on the horizon. Instead, the sky was shadowy and dark, a thick layer of churning clouds blotting out the sun’s bright glow. Strange lights flickered somewhere in the distant reaches of the atmosphere, all violet flashes and coursing pulses of distant electrical charges...
Unlike before when the overpowering burst of crackling static had blurred all other sounds, everything around them had fallen mysteriously silent, like the island itself was waiting with bated breath... but for what, Pathfinder couldn’t say. He’d taken to blaring music on his brand new boombox to offset the eerie silence— it wasn’t like they were trying to be stealthy anymore.
”Machine or mannequin? (secret secret, I've got a secret),” the boombox trilled loudly, staticky music roaring out to fill the void-like quiet. ”With parts made in Japan! (secret secret, I've got a secret)—“
“We’ll see,” said Revenant, casting the boombox a glare. Perhaps it would make a good bludgeoning implement...
The simulacrum’s gaze wandered, yellow eyes slanting sharply to the side as he scanned the area for foes. He itched with the urge to tear something apart, hungered for it, every line of his code screaming for the thrill of the hunt, minute shivers jittering through his muscular cabling and articulated support struts. It was enough to drive an ordinary human mad... he almost wished it would do the same for him, to at last rid him of this miserable existence...
Unfortunately, he was stuck here with nothing but an insufferable MRVN for company. And despite his every manufactured instinct whispering for him to tear the other bot down to his composite parts and scatter them to the winds, he still needed Pathfinder. It was disgusting to admit, but the forward scout still had the potential to prove useful to him— likely as a shield if things went south.
Revenant tuned in to the conversation again, abruptly realizing that Pathfinder had begun speaking to him. Not that he cared much.
“I think that we’re in a good position, for now,” the MRVN chirped, taking a seat on a nearby tree stump. “This arena’s version of the Ring seems to be closing very slowly. Let’s rest, friend!”
The simulacrum cast another glare at their surroundings, not quite trusting the sudden stillness and quiet, before stalking over to a nearby tree. Pathfinder watched Revenant as he approached the lofty oak, tilting his head curiously to the side as the simulacrum’s claws dug into the crisp bark. He startled further when Revenant began to climb up, his unsettlingly skeletal limbs working like a spider’s to place him in the middling branches, and perched there, a few leaves falling down in lazy circles.
Revenant’s predatory optics turned to glare down at Pathfinder, glowing fiercely through the curtain of leaves and twigs. He was almost perfectly camouflaged— if Pathfinder hadn’t seen him climb the tree himself, he probably wouldn’t have even known he was there!
“I’ve never been bait before,” said Pathfinder, eagerly latching onto this new assignment. “What should I do?”
“Act pathetic. Injured. It shouldn’t be too hard for you.”
“How exciting!” Pathfinder remarked aloud, turning away. He glanced around at the devastatingly empty fields around them then, twiddling his fingers together. “Or boring…”
Face-off
#007 Bloodhound, #018 Mirage & #019 Wraith vs #002 Karl Jak & #X Princess Dekugo
”Good evening, Hunter. I wonder if you’ll get as much use out of this little lifeline as its previous owner?” The radio which Bloodhound had taken possession of crackled to life, the speaker sounding entirely unfazed about its passing of hands. ”If you’re curious about how I know it has changed hands...just remember, we’re watching. Enough about that, though; you have a fight coming up. We know. Your opponents...are certainly interesting.”
”Contestant number two, Karl Jak. He certainly has been an entertaining one. Also a troublesome contender for the ones who had run into him. Don’t let his looks fool you, he’s a wily and dangerous foe; quite physically capable, able to hold his own and dish out tremendous damage with his bare hands. Equally impressive mobility, coupled with some flashy energy projection capabilities, make him a dangerous enough opponent even without our extra added...gifts for the competition.”
”And your other opponent… The fusion of contestants number five and twenty...and in a manner of speaking, number thirteen as well. They are a physical powerhouse, packing tremendous raw power, but all the finesse of a rampaging bull. A real firecracker, in multiple senses of the word; watch out for explosions and fire, now. Oh, and mind the spiky bits, won’t you? They have a habit of breaking bones.”
The information was strange and unsettling to the Legends, and they shared a worried look. Didn’t sound like the type of people they’d want to run into if they had any choice in the matter...but they weren’t exactly slouches themselves. All their own skills, not to mention the gear they’d been handed and scavenged during this game, should let them more than match up to this crazy duo.
An explosion ringing out over the plains and shattering the growing silence drew their focus back to reality.
Careening over a hill, the Warthog screeched and shuddered as it touched down again. In the near distance, they could see the two they had just been warned about. They seemed at each other’s throats already...but at the sound of the engine drawing near they both whipped around and nearly in unison unleashed all hell toward it.
Explosive blasts, a shrieking hail of gunfire, and a barrage of ki bolts bombarded the field and tore up the ground in front of and around the Warthog, until one lucky blast turned one of its tires into so much wreckage and the entire thing pitched forward into a rolling mess.
The occupants managed to extricate themselves in time for the other two to descend upon them.
….or, well, for one of their opponents to descend upon them. Princess Dekugo, fueled by an increasingly unhinging bloodlust and feverish inability to think rationally, crashed into them like a runaway train. Clawed nails and explosive blasts shredded and tore and blew the warthog apart like it was made of tinfoil, and scattered the three Legends like leaves in the wind. It left the fusion completely open to attack, but they seemed to have completely disregarded the danger. Eyes positively glowing red, a pale aura of flickering violet flame burning around them.
As the scattered team prepared to return to the fight, Mirage was stopped suddenly by a hand clamping down on his shoulder. “Now, now, let’s not gang up on the turtle,” Karl quipped. “Let them have a moment to themselves.” And the red-clad Legend was sent sprawling by an elbow to the back of his head. “Let’s take a moment here, just the two of us, before we go join the big party.”
Groaning, Mirage regained his feet with a quick hop, spinning about to face Karl as he did so. “Alright, alright, I guess I can spare like...ten seconds. Let’s do this.”
* * *
Bloodhound and Wraith slowly circled Princess Dekugo, making carefully calculated feints and trying to gauge a break in their defenses. True to the radio’s warning, however, there was little chance to get in close without risking a devastating blow. Even battered and wounded as they were, it was hard to ignore the fact they seemed to be completely ignoring what should have been debilitating pain.
A daunting prospect...but not one impossible to overcome. A quick feint one way, drawing out an explosion, and Wraith rolled the opposite way, springing forward to crash into the fusion shield-first to stagger them, and then immediately dish out a quick one-two strike across their chest, preparing to deliver a skewering strike...only to have a torrent of flames erupt from the fanged maw of the fusion. The already scorched armor took the brunt of it, but it blinded her and threw the strike off.
She felt the blade pierce flesh, and heard a disgruntled snarl. Blinking away the haze of fire-blindness, she was greeted with the sight of the sturdy blade having run through Princess Dekugo’s hand and several inches of arm, hovering mere inches away from their chest as the clawed hand now latched onto the handguard and Wraith’s own hand with a shaking, trembling grip. Sparks of explosive power popped and sizzled in their other hand, and it was only the chain of the Vampire Killer wrapped around it that prevented it from unleashing hell on Wraith.
Bloodhound wrenched on the whip for all they were worth, straining and gasping with the effort. Even with only one arm, the fusion was slowly managing to tug the hunter along, gouging out tracks in the earth with their boots.
“Go...to...hell!” Dekugo snarled, and sparks suddenly blazed and crackled from their skewered hand. Wraith realized what was happening a second before it did, and let go of the sword just as it exploded.
Shrapnel of bone and metal scattered everywhere, as did bits of scorched and ruined flesh. Wraith’s sword had been utterly destroyed, taking Dekugo’s hand and forearm with it...but they didn’t seem to care. Without so much as blinking, they had leaped back with the straining force of Bloodhound’s struggle and crashed into them. Their remaining fist repeatedly crashed down onto the Hunter in a vicious pummeling, even as the jagged stump of bone of their other arm was used as a makeshift dagger to join in the carnage.
It was only a sizzling bolt of lightning striking the fury-driven prince(ss) in the back to momentarily make them seize up that let Bloodhound throw them off and escape, rolling away and back to their feet. With a snap of the wrist, they traded the whip in hand for the Green Dragon. A silent look between the two Legends was exchanged before they both nodded and Bloodhound lunged forward to take the fight to Dekugo.
* * *
Karl and Mirage squared off in their own way. A long, silent standoff of the two just staring at each other.
“Nothing like a little explosion-filled battle in the distance to really make you appreciate not being part of it.” Karl grinned. “Right?”
Mirage twirled one of the curved blades his power up had given him. “Yeah. Guess I can’t really disagree there. Kinda reminds me of home.”
“Hmm...me too, now that you mention it.” The executive producer shrugged helplessly, pulling the little drill necklace charm into his fingers to twirl it. “We should probably get to the business of our own fight soon. Or else the ratings are going to really plummet.”
“Yeah. Gotta put on a good show for the boys and girls out there wherever, right?” Mirage grinned and hopped a few times in place to get himself ready, dropping into a crouch. “So let’s go!” And in a blur he launched forward into the fray.
“Couldn’t agree more…” Karl whispered, and with a smirk he clenched his fist tight around the little drill charm and hopped backward. Several quick hops, from one leg to the other, each covering easily a dozen or more feet and accompanied by a smattering of ki blasts from his free hand.
Mirage easily twirled and spun and flipped between and around them, steadily closing in. “Neat light show!” he shouted, as suddenly there were two of him splitting off in different directions to catch the producer in a pincer. “But gonna need more than that!”
As they closed in...Karl just laughed. “Just a little theatrics for the kids at home.” To one side he let loose a huge concentrated beam of ki, and to the other he struck out with his drill-clutching hand...as a blaze of green light enveloped it in that bizarre drill-gauntlet again.
The beam of energy struck only a hologram, making it fizzle and wink out of sight. The drill struck a glancing blow on the real deal, just enough to stain the furiously spinning tool a light shade of red, as Karl and Mirage slipped past each other.
“Whew! That was almost messy!” the Legend whispered with a shaky breath. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“All it takes is the right accessory sometimes,” Karl quipped, lightly wagging the whirring drill at his foe. “It can make aaaaall the difference.”
“Ya don’t say!”
And they were at it again, with a cascading shower of sparks.
* * *
Bloodhound was fighting a losing battle. In spite of the many injuries they dealt out, the green dragon carving through flesh and bone as easily as a hot knife through butter, their foe refused to relent or even slow down. Dekugo’s eyes had gone bloodshot, crimson irises narrowing to glimmering pinpricks. Flame constantly spewed forth from between clenched teeth, and with every hacking, wheezing breath. A missing hand had been turned into an entirely missing arm. But it didn’t even slow them down, just seemed to make them angrier.
The tommy gun had been lost or tossed aside somewhere, leaving only bare hands for them to fight with, as they pushed back against the Hunter. Claws and teeth, fire and explosions, brute strength and seemingly endless energy and sheer hatred.
….it was all going exactly according to plan.
Wraith had taken the time to retreat to a safe distance, while Bloodhound took the brunt of the attack. And now she overlooked the scene grimly, and slowly drew Euclid’s C-Finder, carefully aiming it down at the duo. “....I’m sorry,” she said softly, before pulling the trigger. The laser designator shone in the gloom, slowly locking in the target and flashing a green ‘coordinates confirmed’ on the display back at her.
Only seconds later, the sky overhead glowed blue as the clouds parted and a lance of blue light roared down from the heavens. Bloodhound steeled themselves, pushing forward against Dekugo to hold them in place for the last few seconds needed. "There is more honor in death than a life without test."
And then they were both engulfed in a brilliant blue explosion.
When it cleared...neither of them were left standing. Only ruined messes of scorched, unmoving flesh remained.
* * *
As the sky rained down its fury just a short distance away, Mirage and Karl both briefly paused to glance over in surprise.
“Well...that can’t be good,” the producer whispered.
“Hopefully good news for one of us!” Mirage responded before diving in with a sharp kick to take his foe down to one knee. He raised his sword and brought it down, only to be deflected by the spinning drill with a shower of sparks. The brief opening resulted in a bolt of ki crashing into his chest and sending him stumbling backward.
Karl was up and on his opponent in an instant, lashing out with a predominantly kick-based onslaught to batter and drive his opponent back. The few jabs of the drill were repelled by a combination of sword and the clunky power fist Mirage brought to bear.
It seemed to be an even fight...until Wrath came storming into the fray and blindsided Karl, toppling him over with a shield charge.
The executive toppled over and scrambled to regain his feet, only to have a spear of lightning strike him squarely in the chest, making him convulse and sputter in agony. He was swiftly silenced as all the air was driven out of his lungs with a sharp crunching sound as the power fist drove down into his gut.
His vision swam, dancing with stars and everything sounded hazy and distorted...Karl was almost sure he was about to bite it prematurely. Until he felt a surge of fresh strength well up in his limbs, and everything lit up with a bright light of sharp, greenish hue.
In a blur of movement, he shot up. Sailing well over the heads of his two foes, and came down some dozen yards away in a crouch. The drill on his arm, previously only forearm-high, had evolved again. Now it reached to nearly his elbow, and was easily twice as long as his entire arm. The point of it glowed and shimmered in the blazing green light emanating from his very being, as it spun up to full speed, whining and whirring as wind visibly spiraled around it.
“Not done just yet, love…” Karl snickered, and burst into forward motion. He drew back the drill-empowered arm for a strike, sure it was going to be a deathblow...and hit nothing.
“It’s Dupes O’Clock!” Mirage announced, as he shimmered out of sight and suddenly there were half a dozen of him, quite literally running circles around the producer. The sheer number of them made guessing which one was real, to block the ensuing attacks an almost useless chore, and in short order Karl found himself battered and bruised all over yet again, even as he struck out and fire what seemed like a neverending barrage of ki to thin out the irritating duplicates.
After what seemed like hours...it was down to just the three of them. Karl, and the team of two facing him. Slowly, Karl raised the drill over his head as he spat out a mouthful of blood. “Gotta admit...this is turning out a lot worse than I thought it would.”
“Really? Cause this is turning out a whole lot better than I thought it would,” Mirage admitted.
“Just face it,” Wraith growled, brandishing the green dragon she had retrieved from Bloodhound’s remains. “You’re done for.”
“Oh, I don’t think so…” Karl whispered, and swung the drill in an arc overhead. A trail of green light shimmered, as a dozen huge drills materialized in the air and launched like rockets, turning sharply to roar down toward the two Legends.
“Okay, that’s new!” Mirage shouted as he swiftly lurched into motion courtesy of his maneuver gear.
Wraith was less swift on the draw, however. She did manage to avoid them, but less easily; the impact itself was nothing, but the ensuing explosion afterward did a number on her.
“This is the part where I call out some ridiculous attack, like the crazy fighters back home did…” Karl muttered to himself. The drill on his arm spun up to an all-new speed, as he readied himself for his next move. “...fine, then. Gotta put on a good show, I guess…” He smirked, and threw himself forward as the drill behind him pulsed with a wave of green light and seemed to double in size again.
“GIGA…..DRILL….” And he exploded forward with a burst of renewed speed, right toward the object of his most recent frustration, trailing green flame in his wake as he thrust the massive implement of death forward. “....BREAKER!”
Mirage had just touched down, sure he was out of harm’s way, when he felt the feeling of impending death wash over him. He whirled around, frozen like a deer in the headlights, sure he was staring death straight in the face…
...and then something was between him and that drill. Wispy blue light trailed after it as it simply materialized in front of him, and Wraith kicked him savagely aside as she braced her shield before her against the oncoming attack. “All that matters...is being the last one alive.” She looked toward him briefly, and nodded, then stepped forward to meet Karl’s charge with everything she had left. “Now, go!”
“Wraith, NO!” Mirage shouted, but too late.
The drill struck. Sparks and blood flew and shards of shredded metal went everywhere as it pierced through the shield, through the armor, through Wraith’s body, and into the ground behind her.
In return, Karl had suffered the blade of the green dragon slicing open his side, leaving blood to gush and run freely down.
Karl cursed and gasped as the drill shrank and he clutched at his wounded side, staggering back. “Just...one left…” he whispered, turning to look…
Karl Jak has used one application of Focus.
Mirage has used one application of Focus.
The Warthog has been destroyed.
The Sunlight Gear has been destroyed.
The Core Drill has been powered up by damage.
Mirage has suffered devastation emotional damage (Story Injury) and been scratched and battered several times by near-impalement via drill (Minor Injury), as well as suffered minor ki burns to his chest (Minor Injury).
Karl has suffered severe electrical burns to his chest (Minor Injury), several shattered and some further lung damage (Major Injury all together) and had his left side shredded open by polearm application (Major Injury).
