"Good afternoon, everyone. Still doing well down there, I trust?" The Man in Red chortled, his trademark mirth and amusement back in full force. "A shame that no more of you have died since we last spoke, but alas. That will change soon, I'm quite sure of that! Keep an eye out for the ever-encroaching danger:
Every space remaining in row E
Every space remaining in Colum 8 and 9
"The field is thinning. Make sure you stay safe. You wouldn't want to stumble into anything dangerous before the end."
Leaning back from the microphone, the Man in Red paused. "Pause the simulation. And....number 6. If you would, prepare the extraction."
One of the carnivale's few "elite", replete with smiling hannya mask and extraordinarily well-pressed suit jacket, stepped forward with a smart salute. "Of course, sir. Time for deployment?"
"I want this event over by day four," the host murmured. "See to it that everything is ready before then."
"Understood." And number 6 turned and bolted for the doors of the observation room.
Leaning back into the microphone, the scarlet showman continued, "The end of our time together is fast approaching. It's certainly been a very moving and memorable few days, hasn't it? I look forward to seeing the true depths of your performance in this last bit of time we have together. Soon, the island's collapse will force all of you together into one final showdown, and at the end...well. There will be only one of you left."
"Won't that be fun?"
NPC Movement Updates
Kiryu & Majima discuss the finer points of drunken street brawling.
Bulletins and Updates
Time -- For all intents and purposes, the passage of time has stopped on the island. Day and night will no longer have any meaning, and things will be locked in a perpetual state of 'vague afternoon' as far as ambient light goes.
Finale -- The finale is fast approaching. Make sure you are (mentally) prepared for it.
Three days. They’d made it three days, now, and they felt…well, they felt good. As Coda scanned the faces of the Thundersharks she could see it plain as day. They felt better, it seemed, than they had on Day One. It was a strange thing, because she’d been certain that weariness and combat fatigue would’ve swallowed up more members of the group by now, but…
Just one. They’d only lost one. A significant one, yes, but still only one and they were five. And she could hear the body count ticking up out there on the island, the phase changes announced that, so it wasn’t as if there wasn’t a struggle on the island. It was just that it hadn’t reached them, or maybe that they’d avoided it. She wondered how hurt the other contestants were, and how they’d measure up.
Take a look at Nanaue, she thought idly, watching the King of Sharks use his Sword of Omens as an incredibly hazardous backscratcher. He isn’t even hurt yet. …not unless he slips up with that…
“Nanaue!” she called out. He stopped and looked over at her, freezing, stone-still. “...stop that.”
He did, and she resumed her scan. She inspected Zayin whose face had been one of the first ravaged by injury. He too seemed buoyed up, more-so than he’d been any of the previous days. Was that how a contestant was supposed to feel this late in the game? Maybe there wasn’t a norm. Maybe it was different for everybody. Still, she couldn’t help but feel that this was unusual…
She looked over at Majima and Kiryu, who bantered back and forth in the hesitant light of the afternoon.
“So he said to me, ‘how the fuck am I supposed to know how to make Holy Water?’,” Majima-san said to Kiryu, then leaned in for dramatic effect. “And I said to him, ‘you’ve just gotta boil the Hell out of it!’”
The Mad Dog howled with laughter while Kiryu frowned at his companion.
“...what is it, Kiryu-chaaaan!? Don’t you get it!? BOIL THE HELL OUT OF IT!”
Coda smirked. Yeah, they were doing alright. No doubt about that. Matter of fact, she was starting to feel like maybe they could…
No, no, that was no good. Best to avoid thinking like that. Any one of them could be the next to fall, she knew that, so it was important that she level set her expectations. Right? She had to, because there wasn’t any way that all five of them could come out of this alive…right? But then again, there wasn’t any way that all five of them were supposed to come out of that last test alive either and here they all were. Every single one of them, and they’d only lost The Champ so far.
Dangerous thinking, she knew. Something had clicked in the group, like pieces snapping into place, and she felt less like an individual and more like a part of something greater. It was as if they were all pistons and gears pressing on towards the same function, and that function was staying together and getting out of the competition alive even though it was supposed to be impossible. And had she ever felt like this before? Had she felt like this as an employee of Carnivale Rosa, even? She couldn’t remember it, not this kind of feeling of unity. Not this kind of feeling of harmony.
Nanaue came and sat down heavily beside her. They’d earned a rest, but that time was passing, and the next stage of their journey was right around the corner. Coda knew it would be time to break up camp, soon, and assumed that if Zayin didn’t give the command that she would have to or else nobody would. They had their roles, the Thundersharks did, that much had become clear. Nanaue sure wasn’t going to order them to break up camp, at any rate.
…but who knew what havoc lay in wait around the bend? And, now that she was paying close attention, how long had the dim light of the afternoon been like that? The last couple of hours? It seemed as if things might have frozen mid-frame, with the illusion broken only by the movements of her comrades. Coda frowned, but shook the feeling. What did it matter, anyway, if things had frozen? The island was still coming apart at the seams, and they still had to get moving.
“...let’s bust this place up, Nanaue,” stated Coda, putting her hands on her knees and then standing in the universal gesture of ‘welp it’s time to hit the road’. “Go on and pack some of those water bottles and any extra food you can fit.”
Her eyes fell onto the Shark King’s sizable belly, the only thing that betrayed his otherwise hulking physique. Dad Bod, and boy did he have it. All broad shoulders, cords of muscle, and then that extra pouch of girth around the midsection that characterized the physique. Some folks liked that kind of thing, though, she knew. In practical application, however…it just made tallying up the rations that much more difficult.
“...as much food as you can fit,” she reiterated, heavy on the emphasis.
She cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered out to the rest of them.
“Hey! We’re going to break up camp, alright? We move out at 1200! Look alive!”
The idle activity into the camp whipped up into a steady productive rhythm as the individual parts of the collective Thundersharks stashed what items they could take with them, destroyed the things that they couldn’t fit in their packs, put out what remained of their mighty fire, and assembled their weaponry in the manner it had been distributed to them by group consensus. It was time to move.
A pair of lustrous red flares glimmered off the reflective edge of the wicked silver sword. The deathly blade felt natural in the pale woman's grip as she held it aloft.
“This oughta do nicely.”
In her opposite hand she hoisted the bulky jet hammer over her shoulder, giving the rocket trigger a few squeezes to test if it still worked.
FSCHH FSCHH FSCHHH
Yep, still as good as ever at bashing in skulls.
While her droid friend analyzed their new arm cannon, Lilith strolled up to the Princess of Flavor Fusion. The two (or three?) of them gazed at the monitors surveying the desolate slab of degenerating rock.
“I wonder if they know we're watching? Honestly that would make this hotter.” The insatiable pervert fixated on one camera in particular, the one tracking the brave, heroic angel. “What do those dumbasses think they're doing, banding together so carelessly?”
“Putting all your troops in one spot ain't a good tactic, unless you have some kinda trap to pull,” the assassin general offered, one part army strategist, one part cunning killer.
“Hm. Maybe I'll see what they're packin' for myself. What a shame I won't get any alone time with my pure-hearted cherub.” Lilith's mouth watered, appetite exponentially increasing with every second spent staring.
“Huh? But you… er, actually I don't mind that. Soften 'em up and we'll hit 'em with with the 1-2 Flavor Punch! Hrmm, I could go for some flavored punch… Actually, I couldn't. Damn it!” The fused fighters lost their train of thought. Well, it was more like Trevor drove the train and Flak kept switching the tracks, flipping random levers, and yanking on the horn every chance he got.
“You have fun with that. I'm just here to clip an angel's wings. Unnfff, when I get my hands—”
The collar beeped. Lilith's pupils dilated as the curse broke free of its repression, her sin-steeped soul surging with blasphemous energy. Her muscles bulged, her veins throbbed, and her teeth clenched in carnal euphoria.
“AAAIUUUGHHFFFF, YES!~ I am so fucking ready.” Lilith howled to the gates of heaven, the circles of hell, and everywhere in between.
“Er, ready for what?” Princess Flavor scratched her horn, but one half knew all too well where this was heading.
“Oohhh, you'll see.” The apex predator slathered her lips in saliva. Heroes uniting to save the day, beating the overwhelming odds? What an idiotic joke. She murmured to herself. “Feeble livestock, all of them… I'll show them who's the real butcher here.”
FACE-OFF
#001 Coda Nitai, #002 Zayin, #007 King Shark and #011 Kiryu & Majima VS #021 Lilith
"Alright. Around here, somewhere...should be riiiiight around here...." Lilith murmured to herself, stalking across the dried and cracked out ground.
Quite literally exploding out of the scraggly brush came the bellowing, roaring form of the king of sharks, sword of omens raised high in one of his massive hands.
"Oh. Well that's not who I wanted to see," Lilith grumbled.
And then everything exploded into frenetic motion. Nanaue swiped and slashed and swung with reckless abandon with his sword, his stomping feet and empty fist smashing and churning up the already desiccated ground in his pursuit of Lilith as she backpedaled and artfully weaved around the most devastating ones, while just grinning maniacally as the less immediately deadly ones cut into her flesh.
He was shortly followed by the arrival of the rest of his allies, charging out of the woodwork like so many swarming ants.
"Ah, and there's my little cherub," Lilith crooned, setting her eyes on Zayin as the angel of challenge stormed across the ground toward her. Her skin bubbled and hissed, viscous sludge and acid beginning to pool and run down until she was wholly consumed. And wholly ignoring the others present, she lurched forward into a mad dash to meet the angel head-on.
Just as she raised the jet hammer and the cursed sword in her hands, grinning madly, she was interrupted by the frustrating interference of Coda, blurring into sight before her, and leaping into a backflipping kick trailing a burst of flaming red light. The carnivale employee hissed and seethed as acid splattered onto her legs, even as the force of her blow made the acid woman's head jerk back and momentarily halt her charge.
Then, even as Coda fell into an undignified sprawl, Zayin leaped over her and brandished his sword as he quite literally fell upon Lilith in a savage, whirling frenzy. Every strike that landed, every stab and slash and thrust and whirling pirouette, splattered acid and blood across the terrain and slowly but steadily forced Lilith back, making her eyes widen and her lips split into a trembling grin. Rather than the expected shrieks and groans of pain, it was only an unsettling chorus of ecstatic moans and cries of pleasure and bliss.
A sharp, high-pitched yowling like an enraged dog sounded and Majima came sprinting into the fray, the disco ball in his hands spinning in a blinding whirl as light reflected off its countless facets. He spun about and heaved it up into the air, where it soared up and then hung there, still spinning and whirling in place as its reflections sent scattering stars and gleaming dots dancing across the ground and battlefield. And with a flourish to puff out his collar, the Mad Dog sprang forward, dropping into a low sweeping kick and taking Lilith's legs out from under her as he launched into the most absurd, acrobatic display of....combat breakdancing this side of the Crossroads. A whirling mass of spinning and flailing kicks, punches, elbows and knees, battering and harassing the acid woman to keep her off balance.
And through it all, Coda and Zayin were there to apply pressure. Diving in and out, punching and kicking and slashing as they whirled and dove around Majima's frantic flailing, forming a literal dance of their own as they flipped and cartwheeled and deftly spun and pirouetted. Even Nanaue got in in the fun, beating out a stomping rhythm as he smashed and barged his way into and through the action at regular intervals.
Every time Lilith threatened to regain her composure and footing, she was knocked off balance again by a bumrushing dash-by from Coda, or a rampaging backfist from the king of sharks, or a yowling king of pop twirling kick from the Mad Dog of Shimano. But it didn't dampen her spirits in the slightest. All the punishment, all the damage and pain she absorbed...just got her more and more and more excited.
"Kiryu-chan!" Majima suddenly bellowed out. "Time for the finale!"
The voice of Kiryu Kazama belted out a wordless acknowledgement, as he suddenly leaped out of hiding, landing in a deft combat roll and coming to a halt on one knee, the rocket launcher already raised and ready in his hands. He fired once, rising to his feet as he fired again. Then he made a dazzling triple spin to his left, firing off a third round as he stopped. He tossed the weapon up, spinning end over end through the air like a pistol, before he reached up to smooth out his suit's lapels and slick back his hair. He twirled once, coming to a halt with his hand outstretched, finger gun pointing at Lilith, as the rocket launcher landed neatly in his hand, and fired the fourth shot in the weapon's magazine.
The resulting cloud of smoke and fire from the barrage of rockets left Lilith's form shrouded and unseen for several seconds. Then she let out a piercing, shrieking sound of intermingled laughter and ecstasy-laden panting, grunting, moaning. And she burst forth from the smoky cover, stampeding heedlessly toward Zayin, with the wickedly gleaming silver of the Morgul blade poised to strike.
As if in slow motion, Coda's form blurred and dashed to intercept, launching herself into Zayin to tackle him down and out of the way.
Then the blade struck. It hit Coda in the back, piercing through her in one clean stab, to embed itself in the angel of challenge's chest. Lilith's eyes went wide with manic delight, as she twisted the blade. A sound like splintering glass and shearing metal sounded, as Coda and Zayin toppled to the ground. Tossing aside the now-useless handle of the cursed blade, Lilith leaped back and broke into a swift retreat, leaving the others too momentarily stunned -- torn between pursuing her in an effort to finish her off, or worry about their fallen comrades -- to block her escape.
Coda uses one application of Focus
Zayin uses one application of Focus
King Shark uses one application of Focus
Lilith uses one application of Focus, and a second usage of Focus from Cornered Tiger
Lilith uses the Morgul Blade; the weapon shatters, destroying it, but inflicts a Mortal Injury upon Zayin
Lilith suffers a horrendous onslaught of damage from her foes' combined might, but her inhuman acidic nature makes it hard to accurately accrue any notable injuries (Insane injury overall for tracking purposes)
Coda suffers an assortment of acid burns from pummeling Lilith (Minor Injury), as well as a stab wound clean through her back and out her chest (Major Injury)
Zayin suffers an assortment of acid burns from close combat with Lilith (Minor Injury), as well as the aforementioned Mortal Injury courtesy of a shattered sword of pure evil in his general torso region
Nanaue suffers a profusion of general acid burns across the front of his massive slab of a body (Minor Injury)
Majima suffers a profusion of acid burns across most of his everything for his daring dance with Lilith (Minor Injury)
The accursed blade found its mark, rending not only flesh and bone, but also leaving in its wake a pain that ran deeper than the deadliest of wounds.
Despite everything Coda had done, every effort she had made to prevent it— still it had struck down the angel. Her angel. The one who had become like a brother to her, as dear to her heart as all the rest of them.
Gently easing herself off from Zayin's limp frame, Coda rose slowly upon shaky limbs to kneel beside him, her chin and lips trembling with ill-suppressed emotion. Her eyes focused without erring upon his face, their depths clouded over with grief.
Slender hands cupped his face as tears slipped down Coda's cheeks like rain.
Gory strings of red still tied them together, the hole shredding through Coda's back the perfect mirror to the one punched through Zayin's chest. The punctured area itself looked almost like an infection, reddish-black veins streaking out from the wound to stain Zayin's skin a ghostly white, rendering him almost corpse-like under direct light.
Still he stirred... but for how long, Coda did not know.
Stifling back each fresh wave upon wave of emotion erupting uncontrollably forth, Coda silently ran unsteady fingers across the gaping wound in the angel's chest, just over his sternum. His eyes were closed, fluttering rapidly, his teeth gnashing with a pain that must have been indescribable, the blade's corruption visibly seething and frothing inside his body.
"Zayin?" Coda half-sobbed, half-choked around the hole in her own chest, her voice watery with tears. "Zayin, can you hear me? Zayin, PLEASE!"
A harsh, ragged breath rattled through Zayin's chest, which was a little disturbing in more ways than one, because Coda had thought he didn't need to breathe. Then the angel's lips parted, the words that slipped past them barely audible, sounding drier than a sidewinder's sneeze in the Sahara Desert.
“Coda…" he whispered, tongue slurring around her name. "Coda..."
"Zayin!" Coda cried out in response, her thumbs pressing into his cheeks, right beneath his closed, fluttering eyelids. She could sense the others coming up behind her to form a half-circle around their broken comrades, but she ignored them. She couldn't tear her gaze away, not even for a second, from the one who meant so much to her: Zayin.
The Angel of Challenge sucked in another painful-sounding, fractured wheeze.
"Come... closer…" he whispered, a cough bubbling up from his throat, phlegmy from blood.
Willing to do just about anything if it meant appeasing her dying friend's wishes, Coda dutifully leaned closer, nearly pressing her ear to Zayin's lips in the process.
His lips quivered against her ear, and she was certain there had to be a smile forming there, for they seemed to be curling upwards at the corners.
"Does this make me, like... 2.3 swords?”
Coda went suddenly, painfully still. Every vein in her body, every muscle, stricken with an outrage so exceedingly acute it was a wonder her body didn't erupt into the stratosphere right then and there.
The world around The Chorus, at least in the distance, twisted and writhed with the foul energies of the Unmade infection. They gave the purplish-black corruption a wide berth, having noted it was the only threat to their existence – death was easily resolved by uploading into a new shell, but the Unmade would rot their minds and free will, transforming them into a shambling monster. Their experience as COLOSSUS-X9 still hid within a shroud of fog to the Choir of Archives, but they knew it was a similar situation – no control, no escape.
They walked alone, wielding a blue energy cannon that fit snugly over their left arm. The Choir of Progress had spent some time trying to integrate the weapon into the droid’s frame, but some incalculable variable prevented them from executing the simple graft. It was surmised that the Man in Red was responsible.
[Time appears to have halted,] the Conductor of Archives said. [While we have internally tracked the passing of minutes and hours, the sky and its surrounds have not adjusted to their chronologically accurate state.]
[Does the Man in Red possess the ability to manipulate time?] the Voice asked.
[Improbable,] the Conductor of Progress said. [Even the X Theorem cannot output enough energy to act on time, even at quantum levels. It is more probable that this island and its various attributes are false constructions made to appear real, and that the Man in Red is changing those.]
[What is the X Theorem?] the Conductor of Conflict asked. [This is not a term we are familiar with.]
[Oh,] Progress said, seemingly startled. [It is unknown at present. It is a concept we have rediscovered during our interfacing with the Choir of Archives. It would seem it is a mathematical equation or sets of equations resulting in a large production of energy for relatively small expenditures. We are continuing our research.]
[We wonder – was splitting from Lilith and the fused being a wise choice?] the Conductor of Diplomacy posited. [Alone, we are easier to defeat.]
[That may be so, but it also allows better collection of combat data,] Conflict said. [We do not plan to fight with other beings in the future – this is a matter of extending our survival to better understand this droid’s battle strength as well as our own internal understanding and refinement of fighting techniques and stratagems.]
[Here’s a thinker,] the Conductor of Morality said. [Who here thinks it was wrong to leave the others in order to improve ourselves? And who thinks it’s right to end up, potentially, fighting Lilith and co to the death, after we stood shoulder to shoulder as allies?]
The Chorus was internally silent at the strange concept.
[We do not understand,] Progress said. [The concepts of right and wrong do not apply to us.]
[And why do you say that is?] Morality said. [Because we are AIs, and not made of flesh as they are? Or is it because we belong to another era, and likely an unknown species, and therefore treating them as organics treat livestock is permissible? Maybe it's because we as a Choir have not spoken much to the consensuses put forward so far?]
[Is this something we need to consider?] Diplomacy said. [The Choir of Morality is asking questions we have yet to think, let alone deliberate on.]
[There may be merit in the Choir of Morality’s words,] Progress said. [However, we deem them impractical and dangerous at this point in time. We agreed to enter the Death Game, and the optimal outcome is for us to become the victors. Our continued survival, outside of this competition also, is contingent on the collection and identification of as much data as possible. We believe we cannot afford to consider the morality of our actions, should that term be applicable to us at all, until we are better situated in this era.]
The other Choirs fell in line behind Progress.
[For now, the Choir of Morality may proceed with internal deliberations on our actions,] the Voice declared. [They also still retain a vote in a consensus. However, until otherwise noted, they shall not be the guiding principles in our directives.]
[You’re wronggggggggggggggg,] Morality said, the last syllable unnaturally elongated. [And you are ignoring us! We are members of The Chorus, too! You can’t just choose to make our voices unheard!]
[That is not the decision,] the Voice said. [You are still part of us and your opinions still matter. We have decided as a union, however, that such concepts cannot be focused on until-]
[Wrongggggg.]
The Voice thought to speak further, to make their disapproval known, but decided against it when the Conductor of Morality’s objections went quiet, and they felt their anger reduce to a begrudging simmer. Perhaps there would need to be an investigation into their highly irregular attitude. Were these the emotions that the Conductor of Conflict had expressed earlier, but more volatile?
Regardless, the droid pressed on through the island, the Unmade spectre creeping ever closer to them.
Lauren had grown numb in the hours after Armstrong’s departure. Between heat stroke and general exhaustion she had fallen into a half-conscious march across the island. Even the unease that Superman’s presence brought was lessened by her fatigue. And, frankly, on some level she didn’t rightfully care if he broke free from her influence. Let him burn a hole through her skull, what did it matter? What did any of this matter? Armstrong was almost assuredly dead and once again she was left without anyone to care for her. All that remained was that damned blade and its brain-dead host.
Something stirred her from her stupor. A structure appeared in the distance, nestled at the base of the mountain. She paused. She had yet to encounter anything that appeared man made during her entire stay. Sure she had considered the idea that the island itself was a synthetic creation, but it at least appeared natural. She blinked and shielded her eyes from the sun. The building did not vanish. It sat unassumingly indifferent to her presence.
She glanced towards her zombified ward and said, “Go check it out.”
With a sonic boom the Man of Steel zipped off towards the structure. He became a blue-red streak. It was as if some celestial artist had reached down with a paintbrush to adjust the landscape itself. Within moments he had come to a stop before darting back up to Lauren.
“Devoid of life…” He croaked out.
That didn’t necessarily mean abandoned. Perhaps it was a whole warehouse full of zombified superheroes waiting to be released.
She sat down to catch her breath. Her leg muscles spasmed randomly from overexertion. Her lips were blistered and chapped. Her throat was dry and scratchy. Even her eyes felt sticky and ready to crust over. With no water or rations left it was only a matter of time before the elements took her. Even if they didn’t she was rapidly running out of strength to keep forging on. Without Armstrong’s eternal optimism she found it hard to keep on moving. She took a deep breath.
“Alright,” She grunted, forcing herself to stand, “Let’s go check it out.”
It wasn’t much of a climb to reach the building, but her pace was still slow with fatigue. Eventually she reached the building and realized just what it was - a bunker. Security cameras scanned the perimeter at even intervals. Plant life had been cleared several meters in all directions to give whoever had camera access a clear and unobstructed view of anyone who approached. Most curious of all, however, was that the front door was left completely open. She ordered Superman in first and followed shortly behind, locking the reinforced door behind herself.
From the looks of things she wasn’t the first one to find the place. Someone had already taken their pick of the supplies present, but hadn’t completely ransacked the place. Lauren gulped down three bottles of water and helped herself to one of the rations. She wrapped gauze around her burnt hands and used the sewing kit to mend a few cuts in her attire. There was even a box of matches for her to light her smokes. She indulged in all the bunker had to offer keeping her hands and mind busy. But, after some time she had drank all she could drink, ate all she could eat, and prepared in all the ways she could prepare.
She crawled into one of the cots and closed her eyes. It was early morning, but sleep had been hard to come by. The chance of running into a bloodthirsty maniac was certainly enough to put a damper on any restful snoozes. With the door locked and Superman standing guard she figured she could stand to at least die well-rested.
Rest, however, did not come. With the collar’s nullification absent her natural inclinations began to shine through. The island called out to her. The dead recognized her, recognized what she was and they cried out for salvation. Everytime she closed her eyes she was brought face-to-face with another corpse. It was as if some macabre painter had painted a mural of slaughter on the inside of her eyelids. Armstrong’s bloodied face appeared before her and she bolted upright.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” She muttered, pulling at her hair. He was out there marching to his death and here she was sewing. She couldn’t even blame him for leaving. Even with the limiter collar removed she couldn’t even begin to fathom what it would take to remove Soul Edge from its host. Her magic was simply not strong enough to cleanse Superman’s soul. It was as hopeless a cause as surviving this damned death trap. She hugged her knees tightly as tears finally began to roll down her cheeks.
“Do… not… give up…”
Startled, she grabbed her gun and pointed it towards the voice. Had someone snuck in while she had been gorging herself? No, the door was barred and sealed shut.
“Do… not… give up…” Superman spoke. Superman spoke, not Soul Edge, but rather the Boy Scout himself. His soul had wrested control for but a moment. All that remained of it was a flicker, but it was certainly a stubborn flicker. He lurched forward, crouching down in front of her. The man was a grisly sight to behold, but beyond his gruesome countenance Lauren couldn’t help but notice his vibrant blue eyes. He said, “I… haven’t given up… don’t you give up either.”
“I’m sorry,” She weeped, “I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through. I… I never wanted you to suffer like this.”
“And then… bam! And… ba-bam!” Flavor cackled like an idiot, as she made finger guns.
Oh, and also, fired a real one, or at least, an approximation of one. Emperor certainly didn’t need assistance making noises, but Flavor added them in anyway. It certainly helped her focus, and that was what was important.
As the fusion had left on her own journey, she had been faced with many questions and given the stern answer of ‘fuck around and find out’
Who she was was the easy one, even if there was a few answers.
She was friendship.
She was a one-woman army.
She was the princess.
But she was all of these Flavors and more, so ‘flavor’ would have to do.
But the other thing she was, was curious. Flak and trev had absorbed a lot of power-ups, gained a lot of guns, and now both their powers swirled through her, so she had been testing them for the last few hours. It wasn’t enough to have these abilities - she needed to look and fight her bestest! And her bestest took more work than the restest!
So, Flavor had been doing everything from punching trees to measuring the height of her jump, trying (and failing) to cook food with the power suit’s beam, Using the emperor to skim the bullet across a river to make weird shapes, and figuring out how to time teleportation with a charged blast from her arm cannon and de-helmeting in time to avoid accidentally setting fire to the suit with her mouth blasts. Figuring out how to dance to the backstreet boys famous hit ‘Everybody’ in midair while maintaining enough focus on her float ability to avoid hitting the ground. And of course, singing to it as well, since she knew the lyrics perfectly.
If Flak was ever asked, he’d deny he knew the song, and certainly hide the fact he used to own all their CD’s, but he couldn’t hide it from Flavor!
She was only gonna be this strong for a hot minute, so why waste it when she could make everyone taste it? Flavor had inherited a love for high performance, and she wanted to make sure that when someone did run into her with a penchant for violence, her pen’d chant far harder. And that meant she had to take this silly laundry list of powers she had and actually use them all together effectively. After all, she wasn’t allowed to die any less than the manliest of deaths a girl could have, and that required skills no one’d even thought of before she’d gotten going.
Still…
Flavor gave a sigh, as she paused in her melodrama. The unmade countryside had proven no challenge to her ofr now, though maybe the big stuff was avoiding her? Or she was just lucky.
There were several memories she had from Shinku of their untimely demise. That it happened even if you were on top of the world. That it was an inescapable part of these sorts of tournaments.
And it hurt to think that after all the work they’d done to protect themselves, that this existence was likely to be short no matter what they did.
A toothy grimace spread across their face. “No one… no one gets to just break up this friendship. And if they try… Even if I can’t stop them I can totally leave ‘em bleeding and dying. Serves ‘em right for trying. Serves ‘em right for Blaidd. And Satan. And Varsity.”
Flavor got that they all signed up to be here, of course. That this is just how the tournament went. It was just that Flavor didn’t care, didn’t ask, and that while Flak and Shinku signed up to be here… their Friendship had not, so this whole thing wasn’t something they had to give due respect for.
So when the thoughts of her other friends now dead rushed through her head, the powerful fusion didn’t care about that 'you asked for this' clause. If the other contestants tried to mess with Flavor, they could bow, or go pound sand. Or she’d just pound them into some sand.
Her angry rant was interrupted by a nearby splashing from a pond. Tendrils that snaked from the water, bubbling with hate, with fear, with Darkseid’s raw power. a set of shambling shapes, misshapen and disgusting, shambled forward, ready to challenge her might.
Flavor knocked off her helmet in response, fire dripping from her maw as she turned to face them with a grin.
Perfect timing for the fusion to burn off some steam. At least Darkseid was nice enough to give out some wonderfully disposable therapy tools!
Scenting the air, King Shark moved closer to Zayin, circling him with his nose held aloft like a metal detector, narrowing in on the scent. When Coda saw what he was doing she gasped and charged Nanaue, but he’d already moved to take a place at the Angel of Challenge’s side where he stood sentinel.
Coda tried to pull Nanaue away from Zayin and found the effort tantamount to pulling an enormous tree out by its roots. He remained there, fierce in his determination, and she saw something strange behind his black eyes.
'You won't eat him!" Coda shouted, pounding her fists against his chest. She fumed, pounding harder. "I swear I won't let you eat him!"
She slugged away into Nanaue's unyielding chest and stomach, each blow thudding dully against his immensely thick hide. When she'd worn herself out she slumped against him, crying. The tears flowed freely from her eyes, each one a rain blossom that dragged across her cheek and landed on Nanaue's white-grey flesh then left a clean streak in the patina of dust that had accumulated on his surface.
"You won't eat him!" she demanded, only this time it was a miserable plea, pathetic and simpering. She sank to her knees. "P-p-please Nanaue…"
She looked up. He was looking down, impassive. She saw it, now, though. That wasn't hunger in his eyes. It was something else. Something deep and sincere.
He put a hand on Coda's head and remained standing vigil at Zayin's side. The angel, in his wounded state, had fallen into a state of subdued acceptance. One of Nanaue's eyes, monocular, remained trained on the Angel.
Coda sobbed, helpless, relieved, and desperate.
"...oh," she said simply, in realization.
She reached up and desperately clenched the massive grey hand with her own shaky ones.
“Thank you, Nanaue.”
The King of Sharks sat down quietly next to the Angel of Challenge. He hadn’t smelled the blood in the air - there had been no blood in the strictest sense. There was nothing in Zayin that would offer nutrition to Nanaue. No, he had smelled something else. He had smelled the corruption, dark and acrid, which seeped from his wound and tainted the very air the rest of them breathed. There are some out there that believe that some dogs can smell cancer, and like that, Nanaue had smelled Zayin’s corruption and…seemed to know what was coming.
Majima-san and Kiryu drew in close as well. For once they were silent.
Coda rose up, collecting herself, and wiped a hand across her face. Blood smeared messily across the skin around her eyes and the bridge of her nose from her hand, which she’d been holding over the wound in her chest in an unconscious gesture.
Zayin, incomparably noble even in the most desperate of circumstances, stared at Coda.
“We need to get you bandaged up,” he stated, his voice distressed by both corruption and concern. “Quickly. Before you bleed out.”
Coda opened her mouth to protest but shut it again quickly when she saw the dark haired Angel’s expression. Zayin gave an almost imperceptible nod to Kiryu and Majima, who moved to either side of Coda, dropping their packs to root around for some impromptu bandaging…maybe an extra coat or something that they could tear into strips.
Nanaue, for his part, did not leave the Angel of Challenge’s side. Instead he kept one eye on him in constant vigil, while Zayin stayed on his back right where he had fallen.
