DGS3 -- Day 1, Phase 3

[The Man in Red]

Day 1, Phase 3
Evening Phase: 1800 to 0000​

"Hello again, down there," the voice of the Man in Red buzzed through the island's speakers. "I hope you've all been having a lovely time. It seems that somehow, all of you are still stubbornly hanging on to life. Well done! Surely you must be saving up something spectacular for the days to come, and finishing this off in a magnificent blood-orgy of violence. I know you wouldn't want to disappoint the lovely viewers at home."

The host sighed wistfully. "...oh well. Enough of that. There will be some new dead zones popping up for you to worry about soon..."
F 1
A 4
C 14
K 2
D 1
J 1
C 1

"Make sure you mind yourselves out there, now! Ah, and in regards to our dear...uninvited guests?" There was a bitter chuckle. "We've managed to get a fix on their particular signatures so they can be tracked. You should all be receiving their tracking information soon. Ah, and I would be wary about the weather. It looks like that rain will be coming down aaaaany minute now..."

"Oh, yes. And one final treat...we'll be dropping some supplies to help you all out, down there. They'll be landing for you at...oh...H 7. No collar jumps this time, though; first on there gets the prize!"


NPC Movement Updates
Mid-Boss heaves his carcass out of the cave-rubble and limps ignominiously out of the mountains, making for the plains and swamps below.
Mister Satan continues to pal around with his new pal. Purely for his pal's benefit, of course.
Blaidd the Half-Wolf menacingly stalks among the foothills of the mountains, searching for his next fight.
Kiryu & Majima hastily retreat from the swampy terrain where a crazy masked killer lurks, headed for the relative safety of the mountains instead.
Superman broods heroically among the falling leaves.


Bulletins and Updates

• Bosses Update -- The bosses still roam at random. They will move to a new location at the very beginning of every phase, going into effect at the same time as any pre-loaded or queued up moves from players, and stay there for the duration of said phase. All contestants can now ping their locations to avoid running into them or plan for the chaos that comes from fighting them.
• Weather -- Sometime during this phase, the rain threatened at the beginning of the event will start coming down. It will be unnaturally, icy cold -- and in higher elevations like the mountains, will be actual ice and snow. It carries with it tinges and traces of the unmaking, boiled off from the oceans into the clouds above, so it probably won't make things pleasant. Look alive out there, and try to find cover if you can!
• Supply Drop -- Similar to an easter egg event. This will be waiting on the space it drops until someone gets to it. If multiple people get there at the same time, there will be a fight over it as normal. Happy hunting!

 

[The Man in Red]

I WILL KILL ALL OF YOU
#001 Coda Nitai, #007 King Shark, #002 Zayin, #008 Mister Satan, #011 Kiryu & Majima​

"Say, Nanaue..." Coda murmured as they traipsed along. "Is it just me, or is it starting to get kind of...warm?"

"Mmm." The giant shark-man rumbled wordlessly, just lifting his head and staring around. "Warm."

"It's weird..." Coda tugged at her collar uncomfortably. "It was so cold, just this morning. Heck, even just a little bit ago. But it's like we suddenly walked into an oven or something..."

Nanaue bobbed his head up and down in agreement. "Hot," he said simply.

Coda furrowed her brows slightly, turning to glance at her companion as his giant shark feet flopped along, with his tromping his way along just beside and behind her. Why was he so noisy all the time...? It was like the concept of stealth just didn't exist for him. She ground her teeth, frustration rapidly mounting. Why did she get stuck with him like this? Why...

She paused, bringing a hand to her forehead as a sudden headache hit her. Why was she so angry all of a sudden...?

From up ahead, there cam a commotion among the rocks.

"....oi, Kiryu-chan. Are you tryin' to piss me off?" came the 'dulcet' tones of one Goro Majima. Rounding a corner, Coda and Nanaue could see them quite literally at each other's throats. Majima was leaned forward, his face mere inches from Kiryu's, both of them locked in a teeth-baring scowl at the other. "First you run from that last fight, now you're tellin' me we should pick our fights better in general? What's the matter with you today? Eh?!"

"....Majima-san," Kiryu's tone spoke volumes. That he was actually...rather angry. That he was done with Majima's antics. That he just wasn't really in the mood for any of this right now. "This isn't the time or place to be reckless. We need to plan better, and only take fights we can win, so we--"

"--so we can go down as chumps who never even left a mark on this game?!" Majima snarled, jabbing a finger into his compatriot's chest. "Maybe we--"

"Hey, now! There's no need for that!" The sudden arrival of a familiar angel on the scene momentarily defused the budding brawl, as all four other parties swiveled their heads in unison to see the arrival of Zayin and Mister Satan.

"Oh, it's you again."
"Oh, look, the singing angel is back."
"Zayin!"
"Friend."

The chorus of various flavors of surprised greetings were varied, but mostly as expected. "What's got you so worked up?" Zayin asked, looking around warily at the others.

"I think it's just the stress of the competition gettin' to 'em," Mister Satan announced, arms crossed over his chest as he nodded sagely. "Not everyone is built to handle something so intense and high-stakes as this. It takes the fortitude and discipline of a world champion to weather this ant not get all riled up and start jumping at sticks!"

"....right." Zayin's face visibly contorted into a scowl. "You've been going on and on about that for a while now. Talk about something else, would you?"

"What the--?!" Mister Satan's face twisted into an angry snarl as he dropped his 'regal' posturing and brought both fists up indignantly. "Why, you little twerp, I oughta--!"

Before any further threats could be made or tempers could be flared, a sudden noise brought everyone to a halt. An earth-shaking, ear-splitting, shrieking roar. Something primal, bellowing deep from within the lungs of something that couldn't possible be human. A horrible, mangled chorus of pain, despair, and most of all...anger.

The sound came with a literal shockwave of arid, superheated air washing over the scene, bringing dust and sparking embers with it. A wave of nauseating pressure descended on the group, as spikes of agony erupted in their heads in unison. Terrible headaches burst forth, leaving them all seeing stars, and a pervasive, soul-deep feeling of....nearly all-consuming anger washed over them.

The unearthly roaring came again, as something only barely human came barreling out of the mountains. Leaping and bounding along, as much on two legs as on all fours, trailing ash and desolation in its wake. Clawed fingers left the rock splintered, glowing orange and dripping from heat, and the air visibly shimmered and wavered as a wave of heat sucked all the moisture from it.

​

Whatever it was, it was fast. And seemed to regard conventional anatomy as a suggestion rather than a rule, as it undulated and whipped about, moving unnaturally and without regard for bones or limits to its flexibility. Scrabbling and sliding over the stone, it eventually came to a stop clinging to a large outcropping of rock. Steam and something viscous, orange and shimmering with heat dripped from its open maw as it panted, shaking as if in exhaustion while scanning its surroundings.

When its eyes, two burning-hot yellow-white points of light in the charred black of its face, fell upon the gathered contestants...the brief spell of paralyzing sickness left them. Replaced by a sudden jolt of adrenaline, as the primal and long-distant ancestral fear of being noticed by something dangerous registered in all of their brains.

"....t-t-t-time to go!" Mister Satan wheezed.
"A-Agreed!" Zayin stammered.
"Majima-san, move!" Kiryu roared.
"Kiryu-chan, we're leaving after all!" Majima snapped.
"Not friend!" Nanaue bellowed.
"Definitely not, DEFINITELY NOT!" Coda yowled.

And they all broke and ran, making a break for the only distant treeline. If they could make it into cover, then maybe...!

Another anguished, bellowing roar of unbridled fury echoed behind them. They could feel it, hear it, almost see it even without turning around. The beastly thing was in hot pursuit -- literally and figuratively! Its panting, gasping breath seemed to grow louder and louder, as the unbearable heat radiating off of it grew more and more pronounced...

...then they made it under the trees, and the pursuit seemed to die away. The trees at the edge of the small mountain woods began to wither and char under the heat, ash raining down from their branches as leaves wilted and burned away. But the maddening beast, whatever it was, seemed to have found...other prey.

For now.

RESULTS

Coda, King Shark, Zayin, Mister Satan and the Super Yakuza Bros have managed to escape mostly unscathed.

They may all collectively suffer some minor burns from ash and superheated ground (Story Injury), and the nearby terrain may be...on fire and full of melted rock. They will all experience terrible headaches, and be much more easily angered/frustrated/annoyed at most anything for the next several hours, but have otherwise managed to evade long-term consequences for now.

 

[The Man in Red]

THE NAZGUL COMES
#003 Alex Louis Armstrong & #012 Laurentius Abernathy, #015 Chaos Agent Rory​

It seemed like the scuffle with the penguin had barely faded into memory when it happened.

Even through the chill from weather and rain, both Armstrong and Laura felt it. Something deeper. A more...unnatural cold, piercing to the very core, gripping and gnawing at the center of their being.

Laura, for her part, stiffened and stood up straight, looking around warily. Her breath misted and fogged in the air before her as much as the smoke she exhaled as her breathing grew ragged. "That...isn't good," she said shortly.

"What is it?" Armstrong still stood tall, looking around warily and uncertainly for the source of this sudden presence. He couldn't very well fight or even defend against something unknown and unseen, and in a contest where he had (for the most part) only his fists to rely upon, that was a grave concern to him.

"....I don't know," Laura admitted hesitantly. "But it's something....bad. Something very, very bad. Steeped in death and decay like...like almost nothing I've ever seen or felt before. Like..."

In the distance, a piercing, wailing shriek went up, carrying on the wind as clearly as if it had come from right behind them. And then it came. The thunder of hooves.

"There!" Armstrong bellowed, turning toward the oncoming sound and bringing his fists to bear. He couldn't tell if it was the cold rain, or if he had broken out into a cold sweat, but his body shivered all the same.

Lauren took a hesitant step back, shuffling uneasily back to put Armstrong between her and the still unseen menace.

"Aw, man...not this d00d again," came a tired, disappointed voice.

Armstrong and Laura both whipped their heads around to stare at the bruised, battered, but (metaphorically) not broken sight of Rory the penguin. He spared them both a cursory glance, lifting a flipper with an offhanded "'Sup, mang?" before returning his focus to the encroaching nightmare horror astride equally nightmare horse. "Listen, that thing out there? Real bad news, d00ds. One of those things I told you about before."

"You...know what this thing is?" Armstrong curled an eyebrow upward.

"Not really, mang. I just ran into it before. Shit was all kinds of mad spooky."

"....but you know what it is, at least? What it looks like?" Laura pressed.

"Yeah, mang, I guess?" Rory shrugged slightly, wincing as the motion strained and stretched his injured everything. "Some real creepy, scary d00d. Covered in black rags and stuff from head to tow. Rides an all black horse and stuff."

Laura lifted a shaky hand to adjust her glasses, the frigid rain threatening to make them slide out of place. "...Armstrong," she all but whispered. "We should leave. Now."

"What?!"
"What, d00d?!"

The necromancer drew in a shaky breath, letting it out in a long, slow hiss. "I don't know what this thing is. I don't really want to know what it is. But if it's half as bad as I think it is, then..."

She was interrupted as that piercing, shrieking wail went up again, much closer this time. The thunder of hoofbeats drew ever louder, as a vague shape hove into view through the mists and rain. A flash of lightning in the storm overhead lit up the scene in momentary monochrome, etching a freeze-frame of the cloaked rider drawing a long sword that almost seemed to glow with a pale, wicked light in the dim light.

The sight, compounded with the unnatural, icy chill gripping his heart was enough to crack even Armstrong's normally unflappable composure. He balked, his eyes wide and bulging, and this time he was certain it was a cold sweat that broke out over his body as he turned and stumbled in his first few steps. "Forgive me, miss Abernathy...!" he gasped, before unceremoniously hoisting the necromancer off the ground and over one shoulder. Without even sparing a second thought for anyone or anything else, he bolted; breaking into the fastest sprint his body could manage.

".....wow. Not cool, mang," Rory shouted after them. "Not cool at all, d00ds!"

And then he reflexively ducked, under the scything arc of a sword that would for sure have taken his head off. The nightmare horse and rider thundered past, before whipping about as the rider reined it in harshly. The thing turned about, its hooded face peering intently at Rory.

"Yeah, it's me again, mang," the penguin remarked dryly. "We didn't meet face to face last time, on account of you being a doofus." He spread his flippers wide. "But here we are still, d00d. Just you and me. Penguin to nightmare." As he stood there, his increasingly familiar aura flared to life around him. All shades of purple and black, shot through with sparks of gold as he really put all he had into it this time. It was time to make this the most crunked out of all crunked out grape juices that the universe ever had, or would, see.

The nightmare rider leaned forward ever so slightly in the saddle, and without warning spurred its horse into movement. A sharp snort from the steed and it lurched forward, storming toward the penguin as if to simply trample him.

But Rory wasn't having any of that. He flexed his webbed feet, and with a stunning display that would have probably earned him plenty of points from some arbitrary judges' panel, he leaped into the air with a magnificent triple frontflip, coming down with a satisfyingly explosive impact squarely in the rag-shrouded chest of the cloaked douchebag.

A piercing, shrieking wail erupted again, as the rider was unseated and thrown to the ground in an unceremonious heap. Purple flames licked and danced along the many rags and cloaks draped over the figure, as they flailed and writhed, before ripping them aside and rising back up in a flurry of anger. A thin, rattling breath hissed out from under the hood as they took their sword in both hands, misty light gleaming wickedly off its twin edges.

"Alright, d00d," Rory snapped. "That's how you wanna do this?!" And he held a flipper out to his side, grasping at something...as his blazing aura spread out past his body and took on a familiar shape in his grip. It was jagged and buzzing, like made out of purple and black TV static, but it was unmistakably a gun. Slowly, he brought it to bear against the nasty wraith d00d before him, staring daggers at the spooky fuck.

"....draw, mang."

A shrieking wail went up as the wraith surged forward, churning through the mist and puddles and mud as it crossed the distance in a fraction of a second.

"Hakai, d00d."

The flare of energy from Rory's makeshift gun lit up the entire valley between the hills in a conflagration of brilliant purple fire. The shrieking of the wraith hit an all-new height, as it was consumed nearly entirely in the blast, hurled back in a burning, ruined heap. It writhed and spasmed on the ground, its cloaks and rags burning to ash in mere seconds and the rest of its body literally seeming to come apart at the seams as it shrieked and wailed a death knell to the heavens above.

Rory's arm slowly dropped to his side as he heaved several deep breaths, the last embers of his super crunk purple powers wisping away. "....and good riddance, d00d." He turned about to waddle away, dismissing the, as far as he was concerned, dead or dying wraith.

A slow, rattling breath hissed out behind him, and his blood ran cold. "Ah, fuck, mang..." he croaked, shortly before he felt the bite of cold steel slice open his back from top to bottom. It was simultaneously like someone had poured liquid fire and liquid nitrogen across his back, like the mother of all nuclear-powered icy-hot commercial casts was dancing the Texas Two-step all along his nerve endings. He squawked and honked and screamed, as he staggered forward, struggling just to stay upright.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, d00d! Fuck!" he yammered, staggering drunkenly one way and then the other in his quest just to stay upright and keep moving. He could still hear that thing, rasping and gasping, crawling after him, he just had to get...away...

He didn't know how long he ran, or how close the wraith was on his heels the entire time. All he knew was that eventually, he stumbled and slid into one of the streams winding through the hills, and he decided it was time for a nap...

RESULTS

Chaos Agent Rory used one application of Focus
Rory consumed the Hakai

Rory suffers a gruesome slash along his back, nearly along the length of his entire body (Major Injury); it will continue to ache and throb incessantly for the rest of his time here, unless somehow healed

The Nazgul has been heavily damaged by the Hakai, and is quite literally physically falling apart at the seams, but not defeated yet

 

[The Man in Red]

Face-Off
#013 Kevin​

Kevin's relative solitude was interrupted rather suddenly by a harsh squealing, crackling sound. Static whined from his collar before it dissolved faintly into a slow, steady beeping noise. The indicator light on the collar started at green....then to yellow....

As he realized what was about to happen, the Syntech intern remembered something. One last message from Karl. "Oh, and Kevin? Remember, whatever else you do. Don't hang out in one area for too long. Make sure you move."

As the collar's beeping sped up and intensified, the light on it changed to red. A small holographic projector flickered to life, showing a smiling comedy mask. It spun in place, turning to a frowning tragedy mask.

"....I don't get paid enough for this," Kevin muttered.

One final, piercingly loud beep from his collar....there was a sudden flash and BANG before the intern's head was reduced to a brief fountain of ginger gore and what was left of his body toppled over into the grass.

RESULTS

#013 Kevin -- DEAD

 

[The Man in Red]

Face-Off
#010 Flak & #006 Trevor O'Skully VS #019 Peter Pellbrook VS #018 Blaidd the Half-Wolf​

Up on the mountaintop, Peter Pellbrook trudged slowly through the snow and ice. "It should be around here...somewhere..." He brought a hand up and wiped the snow from the visor of the power suit, looking around carefully for any sign of something...treat-like. "What'd that masked psycho mean anyway? I have no idea what I'm even looking for up here. It could literally be anwheAAGH!"

Without warning, the vampire quite literally walked right into something large, metallic, and very sturdy. He staggered back, thankful for the reinforced armor meaning he hadn't just absolutely destroyed his shins and knees. Kneeling down, he started to brush the snow and frost aside, to find...the grinning mask-face of the Carnivale's chief madman. "....oh hey. Jackpot." And with a faint grin he set to clearing the snow aside, searching for some way to right the container and get it open.

He had only barely managed to do so before a sudden dread fell over him. Faintly, barely audible over the mountaintop gust, the low growl of a wolf. Then the faint tink as something nudged the back of his head. "Nice work finding the prize up here," spoke up someone who sounded like, were it not for the current environs being a death tournament, might have been pleasant to talk to. "Think I'll be taking it off your hands, though."

Peter sloooowly raised his arms up over his head, hands up. "Okay, okay...just take it easy, now."

The sudden interloper nudged the back of Peter's head again. "Long as we're in agreement, then. Step aside, if you would."

Arms still raised over his head, Peter slowly shuffled aside, turning around so he could at least see who he was dealing with and decide if he could...oh god it was some huge-ass wolf-man. Nope nope nope nope, not tangling with that, if he could avoid it. Taking several more shuffled steps back, he nodded at the supply cache. "All yours."

Blaidd, gun in his outstretched hand still trained on Peter, watched him intently for a moment, before nodding. "Smart choice, friend," he said, what could almost pass for a grin flashing across his face. "Don't like using such underhanded tricks, but, do what you need to, eh?" And he stepped forward, reaching down with his free hand and wrenched the case open.

Held inside the case, in a bed of very delicate red padding, was...some sort of crown? Four-pointed, made of gold, and with an almost comical pink mushroom design at its center. And was that a pair of...eyes?

"What in blazes...?" Blaidd muttered as he knelt down to get a closer look at the thing.

"That...was the prize up here?" Peter groaned incredulously. "Some tacky jewelry?"

"Looks that way, mate." Blaidd sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Gotta be worth somethin', though. So I'll just be--" Words died in his throat as his hackles suddenly raised and he whirled around, snarling at the air as he brought Emperor to bear, firing off a quick volley of shots, peppering the snowy clearing with several new holes.

Peter, for his part, dove for cover in the only thing available -- the snow itself. Really wish this suit had some kinda camouflage! he mentally lamented.

From the direction Blaidd had fired, there came a sudden blue glow, before an answering shot returned. In the form of a massive ball of searing-hot plasma, neatly cutting a path through the snow and forcing the wolf-man to roll to the side to avoid taking it full-on. Coming up in a crouch, he swung his arm around to aim and fire again, several shots ripping through the air toward his unseen assailant.

He was suddenly struck frim behind with a hefty THWACK as something cracked him over the head, sending him crumbling to his hands and knees as he tried to shake off the stars in his vision.

"Buh huh huh," a deep voice rumbled as a giant of a man came stomping out of the blowing snow. The blue cannon on his arm hummed and thrummed with energy as he approached, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "Stay down if you know what's good for you, puppy. Or don't; I'm itchin' for a good fight!"

"Two against one, eh...?" Blaidd muttered, managing to lift his head. "Oi! You back there, in the suit!"

Peter popped his head out of the snow, eyes wide. Why was this crazy furball drawing attention to him?!

"Take the trinket and book it! I'll catch you later; we can fight it out for who gets it one-on-one!" Blaidd hollered as he surged to his feet, snarling and barking as he hurled himself bodily into Flak. In terms of size, the general might have been broader and bulkier, but Blaidd had height on him -- and a lot more overall mass. They crashed into each other and rolled away into the powder and snow, bullets and plasma bolts firing wildly into the air.

"....I am so not the right person for this," Peter muttered as he leaped back to his feet and bolted to the cache, leaning down to snatch up the crown. "But whatever; I'm out of here!" And as he whirled around to make a quick jaunt in the 'away from this bullshit' direction, he was greeted with the sight of Shinku, already mid-swing with the hooked cane in his hands.

"....ah, crap."

The impact caught the vampire nurse squarely in his visored face, the hook grating and screeching over the armored suit in a shower of sparks as the force of the blow sent Peter flipping a full 720 before he crashed back to the ground. Curling his arm around himself protectively, as much out of reflex as to keep the crown safe, he brought up the cannon on his other arm and let fly with a quick barrage of shots at random. Not trying to hit anything, just keep Shinku at bay and buy him time to actually get up again.

The brawl between Flak and Blaidd was growing increasingly more violent as the struggled back and forth. Several guided shots from Emperor failed to score any decisive injuries, with the wolf-man's focus split in the physical struggle. And even Flak's gargantuan muscle and the plasma-vomiting buster on his buster couldn't manage to land a solid hit on the bestially agile wolf-man. It was looking to be a stalemate as they momentarily backed away from each other, breathing heavily, until...

The former Black Hole CO let out a bellowing roar, beating his chest with both hands. "Alright! Time to get serious!" he roared. And with reckless abandon, he threw himself back into the fray.

"Couldn't agree more, mate!" Blaidd snarled, baring his teeth and flexing his claws. "Give it your best shot, then!" And he roared back into battle himself.

Flak's first blow missed entirely, earning him a solid knock to the jaw. The general's second blow landed, with an almost pitiful sounding smack, but the third blow...there was an audible, nearly palpable CRUNCH as the hamfisted punch connected with the shoulder of Blaidd's gun arm. The wolf-man was knocked clear off his feet, spinning once through the air before crashing down to the snow, his gun spinning crazily through the air to land several yards away. With a roar of victory, Flak delivered a parting stomp to Blaidd's face before jogging over to retrieve his prize.

Peter and Shinku continued their scuffle, tussling back and forth. The protection and power of the power suit gave the vampire an edge initially, even in spite of his lack of any real training. Though as Shinku started to get a feel for his foe, experience started to win out. Slowly his movements picked up and grew more focused and agile, darting around the wild sprays of energy fire, continuing to harass and make probing strikes to gauge and feel out his foe's defenses.

Then, eventually...he lunged in much quicker than before. A quick jab down at one leg with the blunt end of the staff, which Peter hastily backpedaled from. A sweeping spin with the back of the hook, catching the vampire in the side of the head with a solid thwack. Then a lunging sweep with his legs to trip his foe up, and as Peter crashed to the ground once again the assassin of shadows struck out with the hooked staff, snatching the prize -- that ridiculous crown -- from his foe's grasp and yanking it into his grasp. He quickly took several hops backward, landing in a crouch.

As Peter struggled to get back up to his feet, a withering blast of plasma roared across the snowy expanse and struck the vampire fully in the side. "Stay down, fancy pants! This one's a win for the flavor army!" he bellowed, as he and Shinku turned to make tracks and escape with their pize.

RESULTS

Flak used 1 application of Focus
Trevor O'Skully used 1 application of Focus

Flak stole Emerpr from Blaidd

Blaidd suffers an almost entirely smashed shoulder (Major Injury) and face-mangling (Minor Injury)
Flak suffers several mostly superficial gunshot and claw-induced wounds (Story Injury)
Peter Pellbrook absorbs equivalent damage to 1 Minor and 1 Major Injury, courtesy of the Power Suit

Flak And Trevor O'Skully win the Super Crown

 

[Sandor Clegane]

“What was that thing!?” Coda asked no one, and everyone.

She looked around from one member of the group to the next, but their muted expressions and perplexed eyes (eye in Majima’s case) all reflected back the same anxious confusion she was feeling. Layered on top of that, she could see the same pained looks on the others’ faces that she knew she herself must be wearing - the headache! It was like an icicle to the brain.

Nanaue moved to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she swatted it away. A look of hurt and betrayal trickled down the shark’s enormous face, and Coda felt a stab of guilt. Why had she done that?

“I’m sorry, Nanaue, I don’t know what’s come over - oh. Nanaue. …your jorts are on fire.”

He looked down, and sure enough, a smoldering ember sizzled its way through the fabric of his jean shorts. He slapped it out absent-mindedly with the palm of his large grey hand, still looking like a dog that had been scolded too harshly. Coda noticed with a pang of regret that he wouldn’t make eye contact with her, which didn’t feel great.

“It’s good to see the two of you,” Zayin cut in, hunkering down in front of them.

Coda leaned her head back to rest against the bark of the tree whose roots she sat atop, and offered the Angel of Challenge a wan smile.

“It’s really good to see you, too. We were worried we weren’t going to be able to find you.”

“Me too. I’ve already run into a bit of tr-”

“Who are these guys!?” a boisterous voice burst in, followed by a large mustachioed man that Coda and Nanaue recognized vaguely from the Pillow Fort Incident. “Friends of yours?”

“You know you don’t have to interrupt me,” Zayin snapped back, scowling. “I was right in the middle of a sent-”

“You know, you don’t have to act like a jerk to the Champ!” Mr. Satan clapped back, jabbing a thumb at his enormous chest. “I was just trying to find out who these guys were. I don’t need to put up with this. I could walk.”

Indignation flashed across the dark haired angel’s face, then faded as he took a breath.

“I know. …sorry. I’m just feeling a little…”

“Irritated? Angry? Fucking pissed off?” Majima offered, leering over from the tree he leaned against. “Me too. I’m feeling pretty pissed off. How are you feeling, Kiryu-chaaaan?”

At his partner’s trilling sing-song, Kiryu stepped out from behind the same tree.

“Mad,” he stated simply, his tone dulcet. He laced his arms over his chest. “But I think we should choose our fights wisely.”

Coda looked around at the scorched earth surrounding them: charred trees, wilted crisp grass, charcoal and brimstone where regular ground had been. She nodded in agreement at Kiryu’s words. Whatever that thing was, it didn’t look like the kind of thing you’d want to tussle with.

“That’s some weak shit,” Majima answered, leaning forward until he was nose to nose with Kiryu. He prodded his chest with his index finger, frowning. “You gonna skulk around like a bitch all day? Nobody will remember you for that. I say we chase that flamin’ hot cheeto down and…”

He pounded his fist into his hand.

Nobody said anything, mulling over the concept of stalking off after something that had not only torn the landscape a new one, but psychologically torn them a new one as well. They could all feel it - the headaches, the irritation, Nanaue’s jorts…none of it was good. Ominous, scary stuff.

Then Nanaue stood up, hefting his sword into the air, and brought it down like a guillotine. He looked mad, and on top of that, his sword had grown. When he’d set out that morning with Coda it was the size of a dirk, and now the thing in his hand was a full on sword. The red gem decorating its guard gleamed, like it was holding some kind of charge, or something. Coda studied it curiously.

“Mad!” Nanaue announced, swinging his sword again. “Let’s fight!”

“We’re all feeling irritated,” Zayin began, rubbing his temples. “But that doesn’t mean we need to fly off the handle here. Coda, what do you think?”

The blonde looked from Nanaue’s sword to Zayin and pushed her shades a little further up her nose.

“I’m…not sure.”

She could feel the power of Luchadore coursing through her veins, urging her to fight the good, flashy fight…but was that enough? Nanaue’s sword had grown, too, and she was sure she’d seen something pulse in the gem on its hilt. …but was that enough? Majima held a halberd, and Mister Satan toted some kind of gun, but she hadn’t seen Zayin wield any sort of weapon at all.

“Zayin…” she said, slowly. “Where’s your weapon?”

He grimaced, bemused, and shook his head. Coda ground her teeth in irritation.

“No weapon? How are we going to fight that thing when you have no weapon?”

“It’s not my fault! Some kind of insane demon woman blindsided me, there’s no way I could’ve seen it coming!”

“You’re on a freaking island of death! Of course you should’ve seen it coming!”

Nanaue stepped in between them, stabbing his sword into the ground.

“...friends,” he reminded them.

Their flaring tempers subsided, and everything went quiet. They had a decision to make.

“Nanaue’s right,” Zayin said, finally. He looked from Coda to Nanaue, and gave the Shark King an appreciative nod. “We need to let cooler heads prevail. The more united a front we present, the more unassailable we’ll be as a unit. Agreed?”

He looked at the others. Coda nodded quickly, Hercule too, and Nanaue’s head had been bobbing all along. When the Angel of Challenge’s gaze came to Majima and Kiryu they gave the slightest almost imperceptible nods.

“We’re in it together. Right?”

Coda put a hand on his shoulder.

“Right. Let’s not let this thing get under our skin. Whatever it is.”

She offered her allies a reassuring smile…even though the pain in her head made it difficult.

 

[Toga Voorhees]

It was dark for early afternoon, roiling storm clouds, threatening a downpour to come, blotting out the sky and sunshine. Frogs croaked in harmony from their hiding places along the gurgling stream, belting out a mating tune while hunting for the few remaining bugs still out and about before the rain. As the trees folded their leaves in anticipation of the deluge to come, red, blue, and brown birds settled down into their nests, fluffing their feathers as their well-honed instincts drove them to cover.

Impassive to the coming bad weather, Michael Myers stalked along through the trees. Nary a branch broken, nor a twig snapped underfoot as he went, and even the skittish deer, hiding within the makeshift shelter of a prickly bush, didn’t raise their heads to look at him. He was both a part of nature and apart from it. Neither a beast, nor a man, Myers just… was. The animals had no fear for him, for they knew he was a predator of other things. As if to prove the point, a small bird, late going to its nest, took an opportunity to rest upon one of his broad shoulders as he marched alongside the waterway.

Something about it all sent a shiver down my spine as I watched Mikey’s progress through my monitor. Nothing about it was inherently scary, per se… but no man should be that... what? At home in nature? That wasn’t quite right… that… ignorable by nature? Like he wasn’t even there in any real sense. Shaking my head, I pressed the button that would switch my view to another of the camera drones, trying to see if I could spot any sort of incoming contestant that would liven up what I was seeing. That little brawl with Kiryu and Majima that Myers had me wishing we could get a bit more of the same.

Staring at the screen, I fought back a grimace as I saw that, as far as my view could show me, there wasn’t anyone close enough to bring any excitement to my feed. Not unless they did something completely unexpected. With a sigh, I switched the view back to the closer one to Myers and stifled a jolt of alarm as I saw that he was, once again, staring directly at it. How the Hell did he always know when to do that?

 

[Zayin]

The amassed group walked in silence for a while, a grim aura hanging over the procession as anger and fear melted away, replaced by shame and guilt. After a while, everyone paused and exchanged a few looks, silently agreeing to settle down and take a break. The others arranged themselves in a loose circle as Zayin quietly grabbed a water bottle from his supplies and excused himself to go sit a few metres away, dangling his legs over a cliffside.

The angel casually threw a glance over his shoulder, ensuring that no one was paying especially close attention to him, before hunching forward, burying his face in his hands, and desperately trying to repress the urge to vomit. Not that he could vomit, of course, but his body seemed wholly convinced that it could and was giving it a red-hot go.

There was something wrong about this place. Something evil. He couldn’t believe how he had acted back there, it was like he had been a different person. For anyone else, it would have been a disturbing and uncharacteristic experience, but it wasn’t that simple for him. The living weapon was hard-wired to be practically incapable of certain things, including acting aggressively to those who don’t deserve it. That snap at Mr Satan, it wasn’t just unusual for him, false angels didn't do that. It shouldn’t have been able to happen.

There was something about this place, and particularly that thing, that was poisoning him. Not so much his form, but his mind. To make matters worse, in the face of something like that, he should have fought it to hold it off, even if it killed him. But he didn’t. He, the Angel of Challenge, turned and ran like a coward. Tears stung Zayin’s eyes as he buried his face in his hands. He had let his wielder down. He had let the Heroic Expanse down. He had let humanity down.

The hero(?) wallowed in sorrow for a few moments before taking a deep breath, taking his hands off his face and clenching them tightly. Slowly, with still-shaking hands, the angel reached back and undid his braid, allowing his long, raven hair to fall loose onto his back. He then unscrewed the lid of his water bottle, splashing a little on his face before taking a swig, struggling but succeeding to keep it down. He was never sure where the water went, but that was just something that you didn’t question.

He gazed out over the island, doing his best to steel himself. He had made a mistake, that much was obvious, but that wasn’t the end of things. Redemption was always there for those who were willing to work for it. Zayin steadily redid his braid before slowly climbing to his feet and rejoining the others.

“I want to apologise to all of you, properly this time. Particularly you, Mr Satan.” The angel said solemnly as he looked around the procession. “I treated you unkindly and unfairly. You didn't deserve to be talked to that way, and I’m sorry you saw me like that.”

“It’s ok, Zayin, you weren’t yourself.” Coda said, laying a hand on his arm as he took a seat next to her. “None of us were.”

“Even still, I’m ashamed of what I did and what I said.” The living weapon murmured. “And I want to make things right.”

“I understand.” Kiryu said in his typical stoic tone, though there was a hint of shame beneath it that betrayed a depth of emotion. “Majima-san, I’m sorry.”

“Ehh, for what? Oh, right, the argument! Ah, we’ve had worse spats, Kiryu-chan! You didn’t even try to kill me that time!” Majima cackled before growing a little less jovial himself. “I’m sorry too though.”

As the yakuza apologised to one another, Mr Satan stoically got to his feet and slowly walked over to Zayin, raising one of his hands and heartily slapping him in the back.

“Don’t sweat it pal.” The world champion chuckled, giving the angel a big grin and a thumbs-up. “I know you didn’t mean what you said - everyone loves hearing about how I’m the champ - and it takes a big man to apologise. I respect that. So, water under the bridge.”

“R-Right.” Zayin smiled. “Thank you, everyone, for being so understanding.”

“What if we run into that thing again?” Coda sighed, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hands. “We might just end up fighting one another all over again.”

“I… I might have a solution, actually.” The living weapon said slowly. “I can’t guarantee that it will work, but I think it’ll help.”

“What is it?” Kiryu asked.

“Back where I’m from, there are quite a lot of people and creatures who can directly affect your mind.” The angel began, omitting the fact that he was usually at least somewhat resistant to these effects. “So what a lot of squads do is that they make a ‘trigger word’, something that when they say and hear they can remind themselves of where they are and what they’re doing. It can help to ground them and focus on the task.”

“That… could work.” Coda said, slowly nodding, a small smile forming on her face. “It’s definitely worth a try. What trigger word should we go with?”

There was a moment of silence as the group tried to think of a word, and Majima was moments away from declaring ‘Kiryu-chan!’ as their trigger before being cut off. Nanaue, hungry as usual, had hardly been listening to the discussion happening around him, instead rifling through his duffel bag, and was blessed to find half an MRE that he had missed in his initial feast, raising it triumphantly into the air.

“Num nums!” The sharkman cried gloriously. One by one, the group looked at one another, eyebrows raised and smirks forming. After hearing that, how could it be anything else?

 

[Ridley]

Flak helped himself to a good old-fashioned guffaw of victory as he looked over things. “Looks a little disappointing for a haul. Wolf-man gave a good fight, though! Can’t say I’d mind going another round or two with ‘em!” The big man yelled out. “And here I thought we wouldn’t be getting our fight on today! What a moron I was, eh, Trevor?” Flak added, patting the man on the back, as he quietly looked over their work.

Shinku picked up the strange object for an easter egg with both hands, looking curiously into it’s eyes, while Flak stomped around. “You’re not wrong, Flak, but… was this all they had for an easter egg? A crown-” Trevor started to say, before a loud bang Went off, and a bullet started swirling all around them as Flak dove for cover.

“Flak! What did you do!”

“I tried the gun!”

After a few seconds of the two huddled in a corner, the bullet mercifully struck a nearby tree and sank into the wood, falling silent. Trevor just turned flak to look at him, eye to goggle, as the two shared a silent look.

“Flak. Pal. Why don’t you let me use the gun?” Shinku pleaded.

Flak just gave a shrug. “Sure fine. Stupid thing’s too finicky for my taste anyways. I like things a little more direct…” He added, before picking up the stupid crown. “I guess the Man in Red likes Burger king. He got us one of their hats.”

Shinku raised an eyebrow. “They sell crowns that look like that at burger king?”

“Ehhh, pretty much. Hey, Shinku, look at me. I’m lord of all double downs!” Flak yelled out with a grin, placing the useless junk on his head.

“Err… Stomach feels off… hey!”

Shinku’s eyes went wide as he went to say something, but Flak’s hearing went out as white energy swirled around him, and the changes began…

 

[Arthur Morgan]

They were at peace, for the time being. How much longer said peace would last was an unknown quantity that was causing Coda... well, a certain degree of apprehension. As she was prone to do in times of great tension, she did what she always did when stressed the hell out about something: she acted.

The blonde-haired woman rose to her feet, fussily brushing away non-existent dirt from the length of her skirt with a twitchy little flourish that clashed oddly with the grim atmosphere simmering in the air around their odd bunch. In the same motion, she reached up to slick her hair back— before remembering the mask and quickly retracting her hand, a mildly embarrassed flush staining her cheeks.

Spine straightening, Coda turned around to face the others. She unhurriedly removed her sunglasses from her eyes, pinching them with great delicacy between her thumb and forefinger. A pair of serpentine pupils darted from one person to the next, faintly illumined by a virulent glare of devilish red, betraying the high emotions she was, rather unfortunately, still compelled to feel.

Her lips pursed together, twisting into a pouty moue of dissatisfaction. This team was far from ideal, but it would have to suffice, for the time being. Besides, the only way to achieve true perfection... was to put in the necessary effort. And as it so happened, Coda Nitai was more than willing to put in the work.

“Gentlemen,” she said, then paused, amending for Nanaue, “—and, erm, gentleshark. If I may.”

Individual conversations came to an abrupt halt, their little huddle in the woods falling eerily silent at her words. Mister Satan peered over at her, one eyebrow loftily raised. The two yakuza were suddenly quietened, as well, training their gazes upon her with an intimidating keenness. Nanaue paused mid-chew, and Zayin sat up a little straighter, offering her the full extent of his attention.

Coda, steeling herself against the piercing weight of all those eyes, suppressed the nearly overwhelming urge to gulp in nervousness. Instead, her chin lifted slightly, baring her throat, almost as if to say— here I stand, unafraid and ready for whatever may come. Cross me, if you dare, but you will NOT live to regret it.

“My comrades... and I daresay adversaries,” Coda began, folding her arms behind her back and fixing them with a steely gaze. “We stand here at a crossroads, you and I. I shall not lie to you and profess any false sense of camaraderie for every person here today, for I see that same thirst for victory in your eyes. Let us be honest; our allegiance is one of convenience and little else. Any one of you would as soon try to dispatch me as any other— pest —on this island, if the opportunity arose. I can see it in your eyes, just as I see it in myself.”

She took a deep, steadying breath, her leering stare sweeping across the row of faces before her. Something almost like challenge glimmered in her unnervingly reptilian eyes, a smirk twisting upon her lips as she began to pace back and forth, head bowed as if in deep contemplation.

“... However. I also sense a… profound shared trait between us all. Call it a warrior's spirit, a desire to be a champion for the people, or even simply an inherent... protective instinct. The other fools on this island would have us turn against each other, scrounging like dogs over whatever paltry scraps of power this event's organizers deign to throw to us. But I see things differently, and I believe you will as well, my respected allies, if you will listen for but a moment. We must... recognize this bigger picture, or else we will almost certainly perish, hunted down to the last man by the infernal creatures skulking about this very island.”

The mere mention of said creatures was enough to send shivers down the backs of every soul present. As one, all eyes strained to peek through the dim, shaded treeline from whence they had come. Wisp-like traces of ash and smoke were still visible at a distance, a faint odor of burning wafting through the air, stinging at their noses— the beast seemed to have lost their trail, but for how long? And would their luck hold out during their next fateful encounter?

Coda stifled a shudder, composing herself with a gentle clearing of her throat. It didn’t bear thinking about; she needed to focus on the here and now, nothing more.

“This creature… this being that we have just barely escaped from— it sought to divide us by capitalizing on our anger, controlling our emotions, to sow chaos amongst us. Just as the very nature of this competition might seek to divide us and prevent any sort of alliance. But... I say that we shall not be so easily manipulated. Instead, we must band together as one force, because that is the only way we can survive.”

She broke off her frenzied exercise of pacing back and forth, spinning on her heel to face her rapt audience once more. Her golden-orange eyes flared ever brighter, an almost manic energy shivering through her frame.

“Now... have any of you seen... The Matrix?”

A heavy silence hung in the air, the collective gaze of all present focused solely upon Coda, creating an almost tangible force crushing her soul beneath its weight. Her heart dropped like a boulder tumbling down a long flight of stairs (or into a volcanic pit), its echoing thuds resonating inside her stomach with every. Distinct. Impact.

Of course none of these OLD guys have seen that movie, what the hell were you thinking, Coda?! Coda cursed herself, contempt underlining every self-deprecating thought. It’s like, a billion years old—

“Man dodge bullets!” King Shark blurted out suddenly, voice rumbling in the quiet. Coda’s gaze instantly snapped to him, a resplendent grin blooming upon her face.

“Yes. That’s exactly right, Nanaue! Man dodge bullets,” Coda nodded encouragingly, before redirecting her attention to the others. “In the film, humans are kept sedated in the real world while their consciousnesses exist within a computer-generated dream called the Matrix. They serve as an energy source for the machines controlling this virtual dream. But once a person trapped within the dream becomes aware of the Matrix, and learns the truth... they are unplugged from it, and most importantly, they are free. They can do anything within this simulated world. Hence…”

“Man dodge bullets,” Nanaue finished the thought for her, nodding sagely.

Zayin hesitated, and then cautiously lifted a hand. “I'm afraid I'm still a little lost," he admitted, though he seemed quite apologetic about it.

But Coda merely smiled. She appeared to be in her element, a surprisingly patient air about her now that things had quietened down.

“That's alright, Zayin. To tell you the truth, this metaphor might be getting away from me a little," she said with a sigh, shrugging a little. "But the point is... We need to wake up to the reality of this event, and most importantly, we must work together to do it. Dreamers can't escape the Matrix without getting unplugged first, right? And at present, as a single entity, we are unconquerable. Anyone on this island would do well to fear us! With cunning and intelligence, we can make it out of this alive, and we’ll do it together. All I ask for... is a little faith, trust, and pixie dust!"

Mister Satan snorted, though it was clear some sort of machinations were in the works behind his eyes. "Alright, you've made your point. I gotta ask, though. What's that 'pixie dust' a metaphor for...?"

Bouncing girlishly up onto the balls of her feet, Coda grinned in a manner reminiscent of a Cheshire Cat. "Why, our weapons and show-stopping capabilities, of course! What else?"

Majima let out a surly hmm as he shot a quick look over at Kiryu, who appeared to be in a trance-like state of stoic contemplation. He spun back towards Coda, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You're quite the little firecracker, ain't ya? Fine, have it your way! But don't forget who you're dealing with. Cross us, and I can guarantee it'll end badly for you."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it!" Coda denied, flapping a hand in front of her face. "So, uh. We're all good, then?"

Kiryu, unfreezing from his moment of intense quietude, held his steely composure as he returned Coda's gaze. He slowly nodded his head. "Yes. We're good."

Coda has channeled her inner S.T.A.R.S. Captain (and her Social Master Skill!) to cajole Mister Satan, Kiryu and Majima into forging a long-term alliance. It's a risky play, but let's see how it works out for her!

 

[Shinku]

"March, Flavor army!," Flak cheered as he hiked down the descending mountain slopes.

Trevor followed him from a fair distance, dodging glances at the commander. He blushed, shaking his head in an aim to forget the memory of his companion's transformation.

"Stick with me pal and we'll go far in this game!," Flak spoke up once again, marching forward with a broad grin on his face.

"Of course," Trevor muttered, his voice enough to be heard by Flak. He couldn't agree more, and they've been doing good so far but it was still early to ascertain such things.

"We'll take them all down and be on top!," Flak proclaimed next, this time raising his arm in a victorious pose.

Trevor chuckled lightly, though inwardly he was still worried at how things were going at the rest of the island. There were still those unwanted visitors that the man in red announced, and from the tone of his voice, the appearance of those 'visitors' seemed like too big of a deal to ignore.

 

[The Man in Red]

Face-Off
#006 Trevor O'Skully & #010 Princess Flak VS #005 Mid-Boss​

As the victorious duo marched along down out of the mountains and into the woods around the foothills, their spirits were...relatively high, all things considered. Riding on the surge of adrenaline that came from two back to back victories, as well as scoring some sweet loot to pad out their arsenal. It was aaaaall coming up Flavor Army, so far.

....well, except for one thing. "Why a dress, of all things?!" Flak groaned, tugging at the already sopping-wet garment.

"To...complete the image?" Shinku offered, with a helpless shrug.

"Ah, shaddup," Flak grumbled, reflexively reaching up to adjust a helmet that didn't even fit right anymore from the stupid horns.

"....ah, and look who it is!" a voice suddenly called out from ahead. Hanging from the limb of one of the many scattered, solitary trees, was the grinning form of...Mid-Boss. "I see we meet again, mon ami." He sprang from the tree, landing with a wet plop, rising up to stand and brushing his sodden hair out of his face. Quizzically, he peered from the transformed Flak to Shinku. "....ah, but forgive me; it seems you have found new company since we last crossed swords! How rude of me not to properly introduce myself to such a charming lady." And he flashed his most winning smile, placing a hand to his chest. "You may call moi the Dark Adoni--"

"I'm gonna break yer face now, pal," the transformed Flak suddenly growled.

And before the expression of indignation at being interrupted, confusion at the statement, and realization at who it actually was could all resolve and pick which one was going to show on Mid-Boss's face, Flak had already thundered across the ground and leaped up, delivering a flying haymaker to the smug demon's face. A face which positively caved in and folded around the (compared to before, at least) much tinier fist with a series of sharp popping cracks and squelching noises as blood spattered out around the impact.

Mid-Boss went catapulting across the muddy ground to slam into a tree, which splintered and came crashing down beside him as he coughed out blood and what looked like at least a few teeth.

"Wow. You really did break his face," Shinku murmured, shaking his head in wonder as he dashed up into the mix himself.

Mid-Boss lifted his head as the assassin of shadows reached him. "Ah...and so your turn now, is it?" He did his best to put on a brave, dashing grin. "At least have the courtesy...of allowing moi to get back up and die fighting?"

".....no." Shinku drew Emperor and fired three rounds point-blank into the demon's forehead.

RESULTS

#005 Mid-Boss -- DEAD

Mid-Boss had the Sacred Talisman

 

[Dr. McNinja]

“Ugh,” Peter grunted, “That was probably a magic crown or something.”

Peter was metaphorically licking his wounds in the woods, a couple yards from where that fight had happened. Arbiters damn his pacifist approach to the Death Games. He truly didn’t belong here - he was just a vampire in a power suit.

That kinda fucks, actually.

Pellbrook groaned again as he felt pain jolt up his body. He was unused to the feeling of pain, strangely enough. He’d only been a vampire for two years now, but already he was getting used to only feeling pain from things like sunlight and not counting scattered rice. Unfortunately, Doc thought it’d be cheating if the clone body was also immune to pain.

Those other guys didn’t seem to mind.

Peter coughed. “Power Suit, get off for a second, please.”

The Power Suit tessellated back into its cubic form. Peter collapsed on the ground, making sure his wound didn’t touch the ground. Arbiters, that hurt. The Power Armor managed to deflect a lot of the plasma, but some of it burned into his body.

Peter drew a bottle of water from his bag and gently poured it onto his burns, hissing discontentedly as he did. Without proper supplies, that was the best he could do. Where was a doctor when you needed one?

Oh, right.

Peter looked into the distance somewhere, where he thought a camera might be.

“Hello fans,” he said weakly, “Remember, if you’re injured or diseased, Dr. McNinja’s clinic is always open! Occult diseases and curses are a pinch to cinch. And uh… we don’t have night janitors.”

Corporate shilling done. Peter shuffled through his bag again, feeling a bit thirsty for blood. He was assured by Doc that this clone body would be satiated by regular food. Time to test that out. He drew an MRE to eat it and-

“Blood sausage,” Peter grimaced, “Hilarious.”

After eating, Peter looked around, the Power Armor reforming on his body. Hm. Now what?

 

[Eddie the Head]

As a soldier, Eddie was less apt to lose his shit while within the shit, ironically enough. Still, his joints weren’t as spry after their last battlefield tango, the zombie let out a good stretch and his thoughts were interrupted.

“Blood orgy of violence…”

Eddie grunted in confusion and asked open-endedly. “Is that voice in my head or…?”

“Oh, that’s the curator of this event.” Five informed with his classic, cheeky ambivalence.

The answer steeped in the rotting carcass’s mind before he shifted gears in their shared conversation, as though it had resumed from a previous place. To soldier Eddie, perhaps it was nice to talk to someone other than himself. It seemed the walking skull was hoping to offer some mentoring advice, that of an aged, begrudging soldier. “Tch. I don’t know what is worse, I’ve seen children younger than you either enlist or be drafted. But at that point you become… Other. On the battlefield, you are not some warrior as others glorify, instead, you become the subtraction of a man. Then you are all that is left of the utter scraps the world lets you keep. Self, other, character, creature, call it what you will, I call it how it is. The war lives on in your mind forever.”

PTSD. Maybe that’s what he was talking about. The boy rationalized to himself. It wasn’t so bad, kind of like infinite party guests to chat with once you got sick of one, you could pop over to another. Five, who was sitting a few feet beside the creature on the same fallen tree, facing the same small view exhaled pensively. Five let the thought hang in him with a fondness he didn’t expect. His sword sat idle between them. Symbolic, that neither would reach for it while in the presence of one another. The idle, peaceful sword delivering the respite from battle.

“I don’t really have a problem with it.” The boy responded, but with the knowledge of thousands of books, his brain knew that may not be entirely the case. Still, only a child-sized hitman would have compassion for a fellow murderer. There I go getting sentimental again. “Thanks.” Five finally said with an abrupt finality.

The boy opted to breathe in the moment of relaxation. The reflection of stillness resonated with his old-mind. And pulled him back to the pleasant daydream of coffee’s sweet aroma.

As his crusted joints rose him to his feet, Eddie’s English twang slapped, “Er, lad, I gotta go out for a piss.”

Did zombies piss? Five thought to himself repugnantly. His head tilted as he blurred out the vision forming in his mind. Huh, best not to think about it. As an old man in a young man suit, it wasn’t his place to judge. Adding with some sass he waved goodbye, “Okay, have fun!”

…

Eddie felt the underbrush beneath his worn boots and the forest’s soft soil just below the crinkle of lost leaves. It was quiet. Placid.

He felt his body twist uncontrollably in a contorted haste as the pulse of his muscles rendered him to his knees. The soldier protested. “No, not now.”

A swirl of madness howled in the air around him while his hands grasped the side of his face before gripping into the ground, anything to hold onto his current frame of mind. His desire to protect the boy was slowly ebbing away as a new force took control.

The new compulsion gripped him with complete and utter vehemence, his flesh went unchanged while his mind swirled with almighty terror. Eddie gripped the sides of his head. He roared in agony, “AhhhhaaaaahhhhhHHHHHHHH!” And felt the vibration shake him like the innards of an ancient clocktower; the clanging of a bell as it struck a deadly twelve.

Crumpled, tossing amid the ruin of the forest. Fragments of leaves ripped from their humble home tossed in the air as breath became more and more difficult to harbor. The grotesque retching and wreathing that go along with a creature's transformation and… The monster finally hatched.

Shreds of his original attire were all that remained, hanging off the staunchly unchanged being’s undead form. Atop his face smothered with soil, a withered smile lay.

Spoiler

New persona: Eddie is now emulating this album cover despite no physical change. He now has shredded clothes on.

…

A shrieking sort of voice broke through the stillness of the forest. It was different now, the birds, if there had been any went silent as though they sensed a predator was close. “Tsk… tsk… Eddie you were told to hunt, not play with your food. You made one mistake. Unable to deliver a kill, you let me go hungry.”

The voice sniggered to himself while his eyes prowled the looming sky and his head tilted with sadistic deliberation while his tongue clicked with delivered synopsis. Afternoon meant night would come soon, he just needed to wait for the lights to dim. His head tilted as he followed the trail of footsteps back to the soldier’s old companion.

Seeing the boy’s form there, facing the opposite direction made it far too amusing to pass up. He’d deliver quite the twist to the child’s back. With his own sword! The creature had to suppress the cackle forming within. A trick, just like an old fairytale. For now, Eddie’s new mind was unknown. The fragrance of advantage was sweet in the predator’s mind.

“Nice blade you got there.” Fiend Eddie said with snippy words of elevated English twang. A slight change of pace to hint something about him was off.

A spidery hand crawled across Five’s peripheral vision while a finger hovered tentatively on its hilt. The fiend’s expression was haunting and freshly invigorated as he laid eyes on the boy’s plump little face. Saliva began to leak from his cracked lips. His verrrry own… Hanzel.

“Fiiiiiiivvvvveeeee, right?” A malevolent smile chiseled across the peeling skin of his face. He could not wait any longer. The ghoul’s hand began to quickly wrap around the blade’s hilt. “The other Eddie had pity for you, I will not.”

Suddenly, Five’s instinct launched him forward. He kicked his heels against the horizontal log and dove forward. However, among the hitman’s haste the sword was propelled into the air.

Fiend Eddie’s vicious grin wiggled in delight for the vigor of fight in him. The creature sauntered closer in no particular rush, “See, his impulse to protect seems to have overcome his impulse to eat. But you see, some of us, really must have something to eat. Or else, well, it all goes bad. Let’s hope you don’t have to see that, boy. Come here, quickly now child.” A bony finger beckoned slowly, compellingly. Folklore’s monster was attempting to cast a spell; however it did not land in this newfound realm.

The kid quipped, “Uh, have you tried take-out? I'm sure we could find you another... Formidable snack. Like, other than me." Five’s eyes caught on the sword a few feet away, but his impulse to flee wrestled with his usually uninhibited decision making process. The boy hadn’t expected to deal with this today.

A perfectly landed kick gave Five the timely leverage he needed to quickly grasp the sword and took off running first, then flying.

“Haha-hahaa! You may be a fool if you think you will survive the night.” The monster's voice called out. With an imperceptible swish of movement Eddie slipped into the cover of the velvet shadow cast by the canopy of trees hundreds of feet below Five. Hiding within the exact limitations of Five’s aerial field of vision.

The creature was definitely in the trees below him. All he had to do was create as much distance as possible… “Oh come on wings, don’t fail me now.” He complained while the flapping motion slowed. Finally, he landed gently and the call of the forest was restless.

Really now, where was Eddie? Could Five even call that thing Eddie? Not just because it was such a friendly nickname but because… For whatever reason, Five’s Eddie had never taken the particular notion to bite him.

An exhale of a breath carried on the light gust of wind and delivered a spine-tingling chill directly to the back of Five’s neck. He felt his heart quicken while his eyes rapidly swept his surroundings. The boy drew his beautiful sword in the air.

“COME OUT!” Five demanded shrilly.

Silence, some birds flapped away.

Five grit his teeth. “I’m not afraid to fight you!”

Eyes scrolled his surroundings filled with the veil of trees. A sarcastic thought strolled in his mind. Perfect. My view's totally obscured.

One tree in particular caught his instincts. The one closest to his back. The blade in his hand raised higher. “I know you’re there.”

But was he really?

Or was it that leaf-scattering sound behind him? Five suddenly became aware of his own uncontrollable breathing. He did not have the element of stealth. Yet, with sweating hands he gripped the hilt of the power he commanded.

“Eddie, c’mon man, I thought we reallllly bonded. Don’t let this punk ass guy boss you around.” Five hoped he could get through to his ally. The one that liked him. He hoped the reminder of their camaraderie would shift the tides. Yet the words merely rebounded into the silencing chill of night. “Eddie?”

More rustling. Carried by the wind against the heavy boughs of trees. Could Eddie be above him? Waiting to drop on his shoulders and scratch and mangle his face? To wrestle the blade away? To steal Five's upper hand.

“Uh, Eddie? Quit messing around.” So much for the infinite houseguests. Now Eddie was public enemy number one. Well, maybe Five didn’t even have to kill him, just kinda, render him incapacitated for a little. For whatever reason that idea sat well with the boy. Perhaps he was still starstruck from the rockstar’s impressive introduction. Perhaps, the boy had never had a real friend.

“Listen man, give my Eddie back and I won’t have to lance your barely working jaw.” Five’s head tilted with angry incantation.

“How elsssssseee will you tell who is who? If I can’t speak?” From his invisible hiding spot, Eddie answered the boy and finished his sentence with a popping sound.

Damnit. Good point. Five scoffed, “Well, I can do other things. So long as I have this, I have the upper hand.”

“For now.” Eddie mused from the shadows. His coy voice was oddly certain.

“Great, I’m over a hundred and still playing hide and go seek.” Five rolled his eyes as he blinked past the streaks of sunlight.

“Sounds like… Fun.” Eddie slurped with a click of his tongue and declared. “From now on… You’re my prey. No one else’s.” Eddie could dream of the meat of the youth’s flesh. Through indulging it, youth would weave with his own withered skin.

“I’m pretty sure that depends on whose perspective you play the game from.” And what they stand to lose. Five couldn’t hold his talkative tongue back from a witty riposte. He couldn’t believe, amid the game of games, this was his current standing.

“Iffffff anyone interferes. They’ll be first on the chopping block.” Eddie offered new terms to the game.

“Ugh.” Five had to stop himself from putting his face in his hand. His wrist pulled to his gaze as he checked his useless watch.

“What’s the matter? You’ve got time. It’s only a little while until it’s darkk.” Fiend Eddie landed his K’s with a stark pop. "Tell me child, do you have a fear of the darkk...?"

"UGH, how many times do I have to tell you people? I'm not a child!" Five shook his head while his eyes narrowed, seeking the taunting voice. Above, left, right, behind him? He could fly soon, he felt his wings flap with new strength every minute. Would he have long enough? The moment of his survival’s heavy deliberation stretched on in between his heart’s jumps.

“Not having fun?” Eddie’s elusive voice cracked. “OH! I forgot, this one wants to be chased with poems. HAH!” The villain’s tone cackled with savage amusement. “It’s too ridiculous not to indulge.”

The skeletal predator cracked his neck as though in preparation. An eerie and hollow deliverance of disenchanted bone echoed from one tree to the next.

“ Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.”[Poe]

“Yeah, yeah, Nevermore! I get it. Okay?” Five interrupted in impatient protest.

His form sprung forth from shadow and he revealed a compelling smile, “No, no, I’m the one who gets to say… Nevermore.”

“Except you didn’t think this out, I’m the raven ‘cause I can fly.” Five’s wings extended and he launched himself upward, diving out of the way of Eddie’s swift lunge. A clawing hand landed on the child’s ankle and they were both dragged upwards by the momentum of wings.

"...NO not the boy." The soldier's weak voice wheezed through fiend Eddie's lips.

“I don’t fucking think so!” Five utilized the distraction as Eddie hissed, tree branches slapped across his face. But before the blade could swoop down and free the child’s anchored foot the pressure released and what followed was the clamor of broken wood and a scurry of movement dancing with the sway of breezy leaves.

All sound began to murmur, disguised by the gentle tapping of rain.

 

[Anders Nazret]

Lauren collapsed. She fell to her knees hard enough to knock the shades from her face. They struck the soft earth with nary a sound. Her entire body spasmed, shivered, and shook uncontrollably. To anyone else death might have been an apt comparison to that thing. But, Lauren knew better. She had seen death. She knew death. And that atrocity carried no indifference in its soul. It rode upon a horse and its name was Malice. She had grasped its soul far before it approached and there in that inky black pit she found only evil. Pure and unabashed evil. Even the most wicked of spirits carried with them some immaterial spark of good, but the Rider did not. Its heart had been fed to the forges of hell until only charcoal remained.

“Fuck…” Lauren whimpered and squeezed her eyes tight.

She begged her body to regain composure. She pleaded with her inner self for some semblance of professionality. Her heart refused to slow. Her lungs refused to draw steady breaths. Her muscles spasmed with frightened energy. Even out of sight she could still feel its icy grasp. As if it could simply reach out from the darkness and claim her at its leisure. For all she knew it could. That penguin had held its ground, but what had that bought them? The opportunity to die winded and afraid? Arbiter take me now she silently pleaded. Then a hand grabbed her shoulder and she yelped.

“Forgive me Miss Lauren,” Armstrong said, pulling away, “I did not intend to startle you.”

Right. He had saved her life. Come face to face with the rider her legs had completely locked up. Her mind had fallen blank, and though her reptile brain screamed at her to run she simply could not. Though fear had been plain as day on his face Armstrong had acted decisively.

“It’s okay Big Guy,” She said, her voice barely holding together, “Th-thank you… I… I’ve never seen something like that before.”

Armstrong reached down and plucked her glasses from the dirt, “Neither have I.”

Lauren swallowed hard. She was still shivering, but her heart had calmed. She stood up and brushed dirt from her outfit. Once she was good and composed Armstrong handed her glasses back. She eyed the filthy things and started to clean them using the inside of her coat sleeve.

“So much for greatness,” She said wryly, “All we’ve managed to do so far is to beat the snot out of a penguin and get scared three quarters to death.”

“Greatness is never won without defeat, Miss Lauren!” Armstrong declared, “We may have retreated, but in doing so we have better prepared ourselves for the rigours of this contest!”

Lauren chuckled and shook her head, “How are you always so damn positive?”

“Resilience of the mind and body has been instilled in me since birth,” He had practically taken the question as an insult and struck a pose as he responded, “Such tenacity has been passed down the Armstrong family for generations!”

Lauren had stopped shivering and even found herself smiling. How could she not? Mr. Sunshine certainly refused to let the island beat him down. It’d be downright rude of her to keep sulking and kill the vibe. She slid her shades back on and lit up once again. Maybe the smokes would get to her before the Rider did her in. Maybe that was pessimistic, but it was better than crying hysterically into the mud.

“Alright, alright,” She said, waving at him, “You’ve made your point, you can stop flexing… how in the world did you get out of your shirt so fast.”

“Very well,” He said, “But, should you ever find yourself in need of encouragement you need only ask.”

“Oh, I know, I know,” She exhaled smoke, “We can’t let that thing keep running around.”

He stumbled and looked at her with surprise, “Pardon me?”

“Look, I’m not sure what that thing is, but it’s not good,” She explained, “I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the reason half of these spirits are trapped here. It’s blackhearted in the worst way and that kind of evil acts like a magnet to lesser souls. Souls that would normally move on by their own volition could get trapped in blackness like that. I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone.”

“I see…” Armstrong nodded, his face had grown severe.

“That penguin had some sort of I don’t know, magic or something,” She explained, “Whatever it used to banish my spirits was no joke. I doubt it was strong enough to put that thing down, but it might have injured it enough that we could finish the job.”

“Clever,” He said, “Use our mutual enemies against one another and strike when they are weak. Not my preferred method of engagement, but it is a tactically sound plan.”

She shrugged, patting him on the back as she walked past him, “Honestly it’s probably the fairest fight we’re going to get out of that thing, so, if anything, we’re just leveling the playing field.”

 

[Ridley]

Flak Growled a puff of flame as Mid-boss’s embers died out. “Well, this time he didn’t get away. Just wish… nah.” the Black hole General added after a moment, still getting used to hearing…


Well, her new voice.

The new form had pissed Flak right off at the start, and the things he threatened to do to whatever monkey had thought of this transformation…

Well, to be honest, Flak had been kinda winging it at the accordion part and wasn’t sure if it’d really sound that good in someone’s lung. But she couldn’t admit that, because she knew Trevor relied on the wisdom of ol’ Flak.

Of course, the moment she’d smashed a boulder with her bare fists, even with the collar on, made the whole thing a lot sweeter. And the fire breath? Damn. If Flak had met a woman able to fight like this she might be a married man by now. And now Flak wasa woman like this!

‘Course, it didn’t fully take away the sting of her comparatively noodly arms, or her inability to wear…

“...Dangit, Trev. Can you…”

Shinku looked up to Flak with a surprise, as princess Flak walked up to him, speaking with a very un-flak-like tone.

“Listen, Trev. I… I know I seem like just a big galoot. Like I don’t care about anything. But there are things I do care about. Things I care about a lot, ya know?” Flak asked, leaning down - one thing that hadn’t really changed was height, and the heels definitely added a few inches.

“Flak, I-what?” The man stammered, utterly confused at what Flak was going on about.

“As burger queen, I… need to set an example. So…”

And without asking, Shinku was grabbed, and a hat was immediately stuffed onto the struggling assassin’s head.

“You have to take care of him for me! It’s yer duty as a soldier of the Flavor army!”

“Flak, that’s really not-I mean, just take care of-Ugh…”

When Flak was done, Flak’s trademark helmet was firmly embedded on Trevor’s cranium, to the Assassin’s discontent. Though, not to the point of discouraging his curiosity.

“So… I’ve meant to ask, but are you alright with this? The whole… change, I mean?”

Flak looked up, confused. “I gave up my hat! What do you think?”

“Right, but… you know, the everything else.”

Flak put a suddenly dainty finger to her lips. “Hmmm… I miss my guns. I worked hard to build that beef. But like, if you mean the whole girl thing? Not an ish. I got an upgrade on beatin’ people’s heads in. and if I can do that, who even cares about what I look like. Though I gotta get used to the new armor.”

The shadow assassin blinked. “...A… armor?”

“Yeah.” Flak added, pointing to the dress and the high heels. “This is all pretty clearly part of the fighting uniform of… whatever culture this is supposed to be. The heel-spikes are pretty clearly for stabbin’, and the big poofy dress is so’s no one can see my legs moving around easy. It’s pretty clear I’m just lacking the combat training, so I’m learning as I go! But nothin’ gets past the great Flak! Ha!”

Shinku just gave a smirk, shaking his head at that. “Guess the crown didn’t change that much about you.” He admitted, “...but, uhh, Flak?” He’d add, spinning his revolver.

“Yeah, bud?”

“I’m not wearing the hat.”

 

[John Connor]

Vatallion had finally gotten some well deserved luck. After Superman, the horn guy and wolf guy, he finally gritted his teeth and kept walking in the rain.

At the very least it wasn’t the fires of Pompeii. Shit, at this pace, he kind of missed Rome.

What was he mumbling about?

There were no reasons to go back to accursed Rome now that he’s ran across weightlifting and guns and boxes of holograms and phones.

What’s really worth living for?

He’d hoped the gods' stealth worked for him.

 

[King Ghidorah]

To his surprise, Rory awoke to discover he wasn’t dead.

He lay there for a minute, with clear water trickling around his battered penguin body, washing over and around him and departing tinged with coiling streamers of rust red. The water was cool, in every sense. Felt good, mang. However, even the stream’s soothing embrace couldn’t diminish the rising, molten-ice sting of the gash across his back.

It was at that moment Rory realized he was lying flat on his back – which meant he’d lost his duffel. It was probably lying somewhere between here and the dale where he had, in a fit of business-savvy advertising for the audience at home, and fueled by the determination that he not be hunted by this thing which he was now certain was following him, confronted the very apparition of death itself, expending his mighty purple powers in a blaze of glory fit to inspire confidence and admiration in future business partners as his lesser tormentors fled like the feckless and untalented buskers they probably were, even if one of them was super-buff.

At the moment, however, there was only one thought in his mind, only one thing to be said.

“Aww, d00d…” he croaked, coughing a little wad of half-clotted blood. “Fucknuggets…My stuff!”

Rory pulled himself upright, honking in avian misery all the while. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this beat up.

… actually, naw, that was a lie. He could totally remember. He just didn’t like to, on account of the deeply unreasonable d00ds and the amount of money involved. That had been real-people money, mang, and the whole deal had gone sideways just because some d00d in a suit got mad that Rory sold his car. He’d even used the money to get a much better car! How was he supposed to know all those deeds were in the trunk? Not his fault, mang. And neither was this.

Finally standing on his own webbed feet, Rory shook himself ruefully – and instantly regretted it. His whole body, while technically functional, was a pain sandwich.

“Ah! D00-h00-h00000000d….” He cried, trailing off in a sniffle.

Okay. He was walking. Everything sucked, but he was walking. First step of the new Rory gold-club-card plan for death-match survival and ultimate business success – get your stuff back.

Step two – see about that supply drop. Unarmed was definitely not the way to be. How was he supposed to style on some d00ds without accessorizing?

With that in mind, he – very cautiously – headed off in the direction where he suspected his duffle had fallen, pausing only a moment as a faint and fading aftertaste tickled the back of his throat.

“Huh. It really was grape flavored. Cool beans, mang. Cool beans.”

 

[Number Five]

The wind underneath Five’s wings carried him to temporary safety. With a, now, bloodthirsty corpse hot on his tail, he can not afford a false sense of security. What even happened?

First that muscled giant with a gun, after that his encounter with a penguin, and now being hunted by a bipolar schizophrenic undead zombie? The time traveler had seen a lot of weird shit in his life, but nothing quite like this.

The airborne student glanced over his shoulder–not a zombie in sight. Five touched down next to a large rock, his wings disappeared as magically as they came to be.

*sigh*

“I could’ve at least given myself a decent heads up about these weirdos.” The youngster exclaimed, referring to his future self. The motives as to why he screwed himself remained a mystery. Was it to acquire the artifact or power needed in order to return to his family? Or was it a more simple path of asserting dominance? Whatever the case, he is stuck here.

Leaves rustled ominously mere meters away from where Five was catching his breath. Immediately elevating the danger levels, putting the sword wielder at the ready. He could feel it, from within the cover of the surroundings, he could feel eyes piercing his soul. Five is not going to sit around and wait for something to happen, he decided to use the newfound mental state of his ally to his advantage.

“Hey! Eddie! Come on out, I know you’re there!”

It remains silent, with no movement, no response, no nothing.

The hitman’s eyes narrow, and the tension rises. Seeing as this was his first time dealing with the undead it actually makes him nervous. A drop of sweat rolls down his spine.

“You called?” A hot breeze of air leaves Eddie’s lips a mere inch away from Five’s ear.

The unexpected turn of events had the boy spooked. He jumped back, grasping the hilt of his weapon and immediately taking flight. It was pure panic combined with survival, how did that piece of rotten flesh manage to get that close?

‘Alright you talking corpse, let’s find you a meal before you eat me.’ The hitman thought to himself.

“Here boy! Let’s take you out to dinner." Five taunted from above. "There must be some junk food around here somewhere. Perhaps some pinguin burger?”

The bloodthirsty creature did not seem to appreciate the way Five was talking to him, “Just come down here boy.” The thriller-like beast snarled as he followed his prey across the island.

 

[The Man in Red]

"Good afternoon out there, everyone! Plenty of interesting developments out there today. It does my shriveled little heart good to see!"

"....ah, but more pertinently, we're dropping a little something extra for a special someone out there, on...oh, well, let's say...H 13. First one there gets the prize!"