DGS3 -- The Finale

[Ridley]

Flavor smashed a kick into the zombified Superman’s head, interrupting his bull rush. The blessed talisman glowed with a bright light as electricity surged through the power suit and arced through the zombie’s body to knock him back a good dozen feet, or so.

“Phew…” the Fusion grimaced, shaking off her foot. Even the Kryptonian’s head felt like kicking a wall of granite, despite the Power Suit’s protection, and she felt lucky she was born without the ability to really feel pain.

Still felt weird though, and Flavor stuck out her tongue as the two broke from the furious combat for a moment. Zuperman studied her with his undead eyes, looking for her next weak point like a hungry, hateful predator. He viewed her not as a being, but as beef. Meat.

Flavor studied Zuperman too, as something important came to mind.


“Oh! I am so sorry!” she called out, giving an exaggerated bow as she allowed herself to drop to the ground, slowly floating down onto her heels. “Should introduce myself to my last dance partner. I am - The Princess of Flavor. You can call me Flavor. Or Princess Flavor. You’re just going to call me ‘soul’ because you’re a horrible psycho that’s eaten Superman’s, I know. But it’s important!”

Zuperman, whatever he was, didn’t respond with words. He responded with blazing red beams of heat that left Flavor running on her feet, firing back with a barrage of lasers and bullets. Most of them hit the mark, punching little dents into the super-flesh as he turned into the world’s smelliest laser turret, leaving a trail of melted steel bubbling in his wake.

She couldn’t outrun it forever - so instead, she stepped through the shadows. She reappeared right in front of the Man of Steel with an inferno dancing in her maw, enhanced by her talisman with lightning as she unleashed an almighty burp of scorching electricity that knocked the Man of Steel into the dirt in a thunderous cascade. The heat beam was sent careening off to parts unknown as Flavor gasped for air.

She’d knocked him down - again - but that was it. The Man of Steel had left bruises across her body with every graze and dodge, and, well, the employees had left some marks of their own. She was fast enough to keep anything big from hitting, and had stamina for days, but this was fast approaching the immovable object facing the unstoppable force - and while she was able to take a beating, eventually, the unstoppable force was going to move her.

The Fusion’s ponderance was interrupted by the unceasing flow of combat, as Superman pulled himself up to his feet wordlessly, before bursting forward with ridiculous levels of speed. Flavor was quick enough to jump out of the way, but his hand reached out to grab her leg, and the Fusion yelped as the Kryptonian slammed her into the ground with one hand, leaving a crater that sent a shockwave reverberating across her body. Twisting like a fish in his grip, Flavor barely dodged a barrage of stabs, as Soul Edge hungrily impaled the ground beneath her, searching for her flesh and leaving a quartet of grooves in the earth.

An inhuman growl tore from Superman’s throat as frustration shone on his undead face, before chucking Flavor to the floor, sending her flying the length of a football field.
A cut scored across her cheek as she felt herself hit multiple scraps of metal, colliding with the remains of The Chorus.

“Hey…sorry, buddy.” Flavor stammered. Her friend was more or less in the same condition she left him - until she noticed something small, shiny and orange shining in the wreckage of her friend.

“Right! The balls.” Flavor murmured, staring at the little things. The Chorus found them very important, she remembered, though she wasn’t exactly sure why.

Stumbling to her feet, she grabbed the set of five up just as the zombified blur entered the fray… and stopped.

Superman’s form stared emotionlessly as she picked up Chorus’s balls. The look made Flavor nervous. Surely, he didn’t know what they were for?

The lifeless Clark’s neck bent, cracking and pushing beyond human limits to its left as he viewed the balls, a horrifying rictus of a smile appearing on his face. A visage of greed that its original owner would never have shown.

“All of your souls… will be mine…”

It was then that Flavor saw the slit eye on Soul Edge’s blade, felt the danger wafting from it, and something primal struck her. Amidst all her instincts, something was warning her to keep the balls from being used by this, this, thing!

Flavor planted her feet, placing the orange orbs into the belt pouch she’d taken from Vitallion earlier, then bracing herself as she focused all of her attention back onto Superman.

It might’ve been wishful thinking, or just childish whimsy. Maybe it was something else… but as her body tensed, and she slipped the Emperor back into her hands with a graceful spin, she felt determination enter her veins.

Whether ordained by fate, or just herself, some part of her knew she had found her destiny!

In the midst of this death tournament, she would keep these balls out of the hands of this monster. Everything she’d become up to this point was for this moment.

Her opponent was a monster - but she was one hell of a monster herself! Which meant she might be one of the only people here with a chance to end this freak’s reign of terror! In this case, Flavor was not a general, nor a warrior, and not an assassin. Flavor was….

Flavor was the hero of Deathgame. No, with the danger this freak might pose, this wasn’t just about Deathgame anymore.

In this moment, she was the hero of the Crossroads, saving them from the brutal destruction this abomination might bring! He was a threat to everything the living friendship cared about, and while she knew the task was thankless, what a role to take at the very end!

“Heh… all of our souls?”

Flavor dug in her heels as she readied to dash.

“Not while The Princess of Flavor is still standing!”

 

[Ridley]

Flavor and Superman charged, both giving a furious war cry. Flavor fired until Emperor ran dry into Superman’s torso, but the undead was undeterred, taking the opportunity to fling a vicious haymaker.

With a grin, Flavor vaulted herself into the air using the Cooper Cane, before slamming down on Superman with a kick, flames building in her maw as she hooked the Soul Edge-bound arm back with the crook of her weapon, piledriving the zombie into the ground.

Point-blank, the Fusion gave Superman both barrels from behind, targeting the brain - since that was where you shot zombies, right?

A barrage of arm cannon shots, miraculous electricity, bullets and good old-fashioned turtle fire erupted from Flavor, hoping to take the Frankensteined Superhero down while he was pinned, but even as she started to finally see a hole or two in his skull - even as Clark’s face was slowly, hideously melted into some debased parody - his strength didn’t waver for a second, and Flavor felt the sinews on Clark’s sword arm tense against the improvised arm bar she’d put it in. The Cooper Cane shivered against the full might of Clark’s body like a fishing rod that had caught a trophy pike, and the Princess’s confident grin turned into a nervous grimace as she felt her tail muscles starting to give.

She was about to let go of the Emperor to put her free hand into it before she heard something snap and splinter, and the Cooper Cane broke in two with a cloud of sawdust. The Kryptonian swiftly pushed himself back up - and his assailant off - with a brutal backhand that knocked her sky high and left every one of her bones rattling in their sockets.

Flavor barely righted herself in the air, remembering in the nick of time that she could float!

Then she quickly noticed Superman was not following her. Instead, he was… getting fat?

Her senses were keen to give her a what, if not a why. Somehow, the zombified superhero was pulling in air from across his body into his lungs, using the unnatural orifices as extra breathing apparatuses. Flavor anxiously breathed deep herself, worried about if this guy had his own breath weapon.

Superman answered her question a second later as he exhaled hard enough to cause the air itself to freeze, and Flavor countered with a panicked puff of flames, the fire melting the ice, as the two were locked in a stalemate.

An alarming realization crept into the Fusion’s mind as the opposing elements clashed. Even amidst the sound of the blazing inferno and shattering frost, she could still hear air flow into Superman’s body. He’d had so many perforations popped into him he could just use them as auxiliary tracheas, which meant his breath would be continuous.

Flavor’s, on the other hand, was all too finite.

The Fusion’s eyes turned to distress as her fire died out, and she was encased in a frigid tomb that left her a sculpture falling to earth.

Or, as Superman made sure to add, a fractured sculpture, as he appeared straight above her and landed one strong haymaker straight into her stomach.

The ice bursted, and much of Flavor's skin ruptured with it as cuts erupted from her body in a hundred places. The wounded Princess fell from the sky in a shower of blood as she impacted.

“G… guh…” the Fusion panted, now covered in gashes. Nothing hurt, but she imagined she was quite the sight right now.

Superman landed on top of her, stomping his foot into her solar plexus as he bent down on one knee, reaching for Vitallion’s pouch.

“N… no!” Flavor snarled, slapping at his hand with her gun-arm, but the steel was useless compared to the man made entirely of it. She could finally see the mess she’d made of Clark’s face - a skull with dots of fire in place of eyes, and skin in improper areas, varying degrees of burnt, and rarely in the place it actually should have been. It could hardly be called a face at all, much less Clark’s, yet it roared in triumph with his stolen voice all the same.

At least, until a shadowy dagger took his back and a set of playing cards struck him straight in his ugly mug, staggering the Man of Steel.

Flavor used the distraction to pass away through the shadows, and soon spotted Sixteen and Fourteen, also leaping away from the terrifying aberration.

“So you on my side…?” Flavor asked, thoroughly confused.

Fourteen responded by holding up two middle fingers. “Oh, no. Don’t get this mixed up. I’m looking forward to seeing you choke on kelp and die, little turtle!”

Sixteen appeared from within Flavor’s shadow with a grin. “Our benefactor is assuredly enjoying the spectacle, but there are a few things he’d disagree with us allowing to happen. One of those is allowing that little abomination to get his hands on the Dragonballs. That’s the sort of thing that gets our arena erased. And more importantly, our sponsors disappointed! We don’t have infinite money, kiddo!”

Flavor’s face changed to disgust as Sixteen continued, “Oh, is our brief assistance really so terrible?”

“I’ve been touching a dragon’s what?!” Flavor screamed, looking like she was about to vomit.

Sixteen shook his head with a bemused expression. “Filling the quota, are we?” he mused, seeming to speak to some invisible audience as Superman pushed himself back onto his feet, before getting back to business.

“Do you recall your little deal with Peter? Ten seconds. We’ll give the opening, you give us a dead Kryptonian! A grand deal, if I do say so myself!” the demon volunteered with a chilling grin.

Flavor smirked as energy charged into her arm cannon. “Got it! Make the opening! Be on it in a second!” she assured, disappearing through the shadow.

Sixteen’s smile fell slightly. “Well! Quite a good thing she’s too stupid for this to be a trick to kill us all off…”

Fourteen just gave a nod. “We’re a hundred percent killing her, right?”

Sixteen’s smile returned to its full extent. “My dear, I wouldn’t dream of missing the occasion!”

With that, Superman charged the red suits. “You’re in my way!” the possessed Kryptonian yelled, as Sixteen simply bowed and slipped into his own shadow, reappearing from it as Superman’s rush kept him going.

“Fourteen? If you would?” Sixteen’s voice called out smoothly.

The magician responded with a bow and… an array of doves, hundreds spilling from her cloak and harrying superman, leaving the Man of Steel in disarray as they all worked to distract him. Even Soul Edge’s hunger was denied as he swiped at the organized birds, only for each to explode into confetti as he struck, leaving him snarling and angry.

And, of course, unable to do anything about the chains of shadow that wrapped around his body.

“You should really watch your step.” Sixteen taunted, as Superman looked straight at him with baleful eyes. The triumphant smirk across his face vanished as crimson energy jetted from Superman’s eyes, catching Sixteen in the shoulder and Fourteen in the side, as they both fell to the ground with a baseball-sized hole from the lancing heat beams.

“F-fuck… you.” Fourteen stammered, as Superman strained against his newfound chains. It would only take him a second to break them…

But as Flavor reappeared behind the undead menace, Superman wasn’t about to get that second.

“Sorry I’m late! You ever mounted a cannon to a tail before?” Flavor asked, before going into a graceful spin. A charged burst from her arm cannon was followed up with a solar-powered blast from her tail-mounted X-Buster. Lightning arced through the Emperor as she blasted every bullet she had, and finished up with an unceremonious pistol whip to Superman’s head. The attacks finally landed damage, rending huge holes through the Man of Steel’s body from the surprise, leaving him closer to skeleton than zombie as more and more of his body was dismantled.

The chains dissolved as the superhero staggered, and Flavor whipped around with fire crackling in her maw.

She opened her mouth to let it free, only for Superman to cut her off with a grab, his seeming stillness replaced with sudden clarity, and Flavor saw Soul Edge coming for her, the weapon shearing through her armour and into her side.

“You… I will have you.” the corrupted Kryptonian spat, covering Flavor’s face with vile fluids, as she felt the blade cut into her body, felt her spirit almost sucked into the blade. Somehow, it had merely cut a heavy slash into her side - had she done something to dodge it? She couldn’t remember. Superman continued to squeeze on her throat,he power suit starting to dissipate on her body, and everything began to feel so hazy. Defeat felt near…

But the power of the ring could not be undone.

New strength filled Flavor’s limbs as she pulled Superman’s hand free, a wordless cry of anger filling her as the Ring of Power glittered with an eerie light, and she grabbed Superman by the shoulder.

She placed her ring hand palm-up on the Man of Steel’s chest, hatred welling up from her as profane energies coursed through her body. A blackened burn spread across the Man of Steel’s chest, glittering with sorcerous energies as a new symbol emblazoned itself across his body, one nearly as iconic as his original one.

The Lidless Eye.

Superman staggered, the magical attack piercing him in a way nothing else Flavor unleashed before ever had, and she took advantage, wrapping two clawed arms around his tree-trunk of a sword arm.

Flavor planted both feet on Superman’s armpit as she got ready to pull. If this sword attached to his arm was helping him so much, she only had one option. Pretending the scorched, rotting flesh was a double down, Flavor opened up her maw of pointy teeth and bit down with all her might, flames charring the arm even as her teeth sawed through like a shark’s.

She would bite this stupid arm off, or she would die trying!

used 1 focus to Utilize the ring of power for sorcery shenanigans
used 1 focus to put some 'oomph' into ripping Superman's arm off with one last burst of energy.

 

[Number Five]

From the final battlefield debris contestant #16 Number Five pushed himself upwards. His back hasn’t felt this bad in many years. He groans in pain pushing himself up from the rubble, fingers buried in the gravel below.

“Ugh, the bastard shot me in the back.” He groaned.

The umbrella academy uniform is torn to shreds–his shorts ripped, jacket filled with holes and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. It takes him more strength than usual just to get up. Breathing heavily he remains on one knee for just a moment longer, using the time to catch his breath and assess the damage he took from that blast. With a glimpse, he noticed that the robot was shut down…shut down hard it seemed. The hitman grinned, ’one down'.

It was only at that moment he started to notice the background of the decommissioned machine. A cataclysmic scene of events that could only be described as judgment day. The undead Superman, the fusion, the angel and the alpha predator– Each one of them powered up and driven by their ambition giving it their all on the battlefield, creating chaos and destruction never seen before. Five stood in awe when he realized the impossible position he was in. He was no fool, he knows this is bad.

It wasn’t the first time Five was presented with an impossible mission. Hell, he even prevented an apocalypse. But that’s just it…Fixing an apocalypse is easy, it’s simple math. It's about finding the right target, the right butterfly, taking it out of the equation and the problem is no more.

This, however, was an entirely different dimensional plane of algebra. In between an army of crazed fighters, demigods, titans and angelic creatures–Five has never felt as insignificant as at this exact moment. A teleporter, a hitman, armed with nothing but his wits and this blade, against all of -that-.

Nevertheless, the deal he made with the leader known as eighteen was his only chance, those jacked-up, steroid-induced maniacs will have to take each other out, or at the very least mortally wound each other. Five just hoped the words of that man could be trusted.

He glanced over at Superman, currently busy going toe to toe with the fusion known as Princess Flavor, then back to Nanauo. Those three… must destroy each other before they turn the rest of us into dust. Five took a moment, observing the monstrous strength of each of them. The ring of power, in all its glory, shined bright as Flavor managed to hold their own against the demigod.

On the other side, he saw the two vs one battle, the Angel and shark versus whatever the hell number that was. That’s the weak link, that’s where the focus should lie for now. At least to make good on his end of the bargain that was struck and the slightest chance of surviving this entire ordeal. One final time his eyes shifted towards his only ally through all of this, the swiss cheese that was once known as Eddie, “Well ol’ chap, if this goes to shit I just might join you soon.”

It was time to set his final plan in motion. Arrange the chess pieces, set the domino and hope, no pray, everything falls the right way, his way.

All Five had to do was nudge the first Domino. With a wide swing of his sword, he sent out three blazing, scorching hot fireballs through the air. Like homing missiles, the magical projectiles soared through the air towards their target…Zayin. The Angel was preoccupied with the enemy in front of him and took two direct hits in his back, and one to the back of his head–Domino nudged.

This was but the first strike. Catching the angelic being off guard during his flanking of twenty-one was the best course of action. No way he was going to piss off that shark guy unless he really, -really- had to. Five blipped closer to the smouldering angel that did not look too keen on being shot in the back.

“I know, it sucks being shot in the back right?” Five said knowing his own back was still killing him after being shot by the chorus mere moments ago. Yet he prepared for another strike, this time, crackling yellow energy gathered around the blad before it erupted several lightning strikes. As whips they travelled through the ground and air, thundering towards the angel. Zayin, however, was no pushover. With grace, he dodged the lethal doses of electricity.

“Tssh the bastard got moves.”

“That…that sword.” The angel’s eyes visibly widened as he noticed the zenathian blade in Five's hand.

“Yeah that’s mine, complimentary of the house. It’s not my first choice of weapons but it’ll do for now. I preferred a rifle but hey, what can you do, am I right?”

Five held track of their position during his assault. He prepared another attack, the blade shot out several more whips of lightning that crackled across the field. His foe, still nimble, sidestepped them one by one until…’perfect.’

Time for one last nudge.

The Umbrella student turned to his right, shouting at the top of his voice,
“Hey!! Eighteen, how about your friends and your goons join the party… We had a deal, remember?!"The hitman shouted across the battlefield.

From a distance the charismatic leader can be seen, standing tall with his arms across his chest. Several of his numbered comrades gathered at his side, amongst them the woman that has been a thorn in his eye from the moment he met her, Number Five, the rabbit girl who had the most annoying smile on her lips.

With a slight grin, he replied, holding his right arm bent slightly upwards and roaring the order; “MEN! In position!”

Like ants swarming a piece of sugar, the soldiers gathered in front of their beloved leader Eighteen and several of his comrades. Every single one of the soldiers aimed their firearms towards the general direction of Zayin, Nanauo, Twenty one and…Five himself.

The hitman’s eyes widened as he realized, ‘Shit…I’m collateral damage.’

“FIRE!!!!”

A barrage of bullets and projectiles was shot towards the group. Five got overwhelmed with adrenaline. Instinctively takes a step back, through his portal the split second he hears Eighteen give the command–Dodging into safety, his most powerful weapon.

 

[The Man in Red]

The Final Showdown
#002 Zayin, #007 King Shark, #016 Five, #X Princess Flavor​

As a storm of gunfire ripped over the the battlefield, number eighteen held a smirk plastered over his face. Only when his underlings' weapons ran dry of ammunition did he hold up his hand with a clenched fist. "Hole fire! Reload, shuffle positions!" he barked, and his underlings obeyed; quickly running about and scrambling over and around each other and the dead bodies and rubble to take up new positions and find whatever tentative cover was available for them.

When the dust of bullet hell cleared, the only casualty of the assault seemed to be...twenty one, his massive and engorged leonine corpse reduced to swiss cheese as the hulking shark-man held it up in front of himself and his angelic ally.

Eighteen's eyes narrowed slightly in consternation, his until then unbroken confidence momentarily shaking slightly.

"C'mon, now, big guy!" beside him, number five nudged his side with one elbow, peering up at him intently. "You know how twenty one is; if he was actually pushed that far, then those other two goofs are already as good as dead!"

"....yeah. I guess you're right about that one." And with that, the commander's proud smirk returned, and he patted the little bunny on her head. "What say we finish this, then?"

"You know it, chief~" And with a quick stretch, number five quickly bolted forward, dashing and darting around everything in her path.

Nanaue growled as he heaved aside the corpse of twenty one, the bulky lion man's remains already visibly steaming and diminishing back down to his much less impressive human state.

And then number five was there, in a bouncing and hopping blur as she seemingly just appeared out of the fog of battle, leaping up to plant a double-booted dropkick directly into the shark king's snout. It was enough of a blow to snap his head back and elicit a grumble of discontent, but solidly not enough to actually cause him any real harm. "Hiya, fellas~" the bunny girl chirped happily, as she kicked off of her new 'perch' and went sailing into a graceful flip to land behind her new dance partners. "You two holding up alright over here? Having fun with the final show?"

"Having fun?" Zayin snapped, visibly bristling. "You think any of this is fun?!"

Number five just tilted her head slightly, her ears twitching. "Well...yeah? Don't you? That's why you're here, isn't it?"

"This entire thing is a farce!" the angel of challenge took a step forward, gesturing with one of his swords. "Forcing them to come here and sign up for this? To fight and kill and die for what? Entertainment?! Your boss is--"

"A very brilliant businessman," number five cut in, with a charming smile. She clapped her gloved hands together once. "You don't have to like it, little angel, but don't try and twist things around. He does things this way because people watch it. You think he'd waste time on something there wasn't a market for?"

Zayin frowned, his expression faltering slightly but his fury not abating. "Just because people watch this doesn't mean--"

"And another thing!" Number five went on, pointing accusingly at Zayin. "Why are you trying to hard to make us the bad guys here, anyway?" She frowned, with a rather genuine looking pout. "We just do this 'cause it's a job, you know. You have any idea how hard it is actually acting so mean and nasty and crazy all the time? Sure some of us might actually enjoy it, but..." She trailed off. "But then again, I guess it doesn't really matter to you, huh? We're just monsters cause we don't go prancing around being big heroic heroes, right? Well how 'bout you just--"

"NO MORE TALK!" Nanaue suddenly bellowed, and he thundered forward with the axe of godfrey raised in one hand, swinging it in a massive overhand chop. Number five squeaked out a terrified 'eep!' and quickly scrambled away, only narrowly avoiding a certain deathblow as she hopped aside, the ground under her boots splitting and tearing open with a yawning fissure as the massive axe struck home.

Zayin was hot on her heels, sprinting over the ruined battle field to give chase to the disoriented bunny girl.

"Ahem." A sudden voice cut in, close to Zayin's side. "Might I interject for a moment?"

The angel of challenge scarcely had a moment to register before he felt a sharp impact in his abdomen, nearly folding him in half before sending him rocketing off at an upward angle, bouncing off the ceiling to crash down into the ground again. He barely had time to dizzily regain his feet before number six stepped into view. "Forgive me for interrupting so suddenly," he said quietly. "But I was reminded rather pointedly I've been somewhat lacking in...screen presence during this whole affair."

"Screen...presence?" Zayin growled, as he stood up on only slightly trembling legs. "This...really is all just a show to you, isn't it?!" For a moment, just one fleeting moment, he had almost started to buy some of what that rabbit had been selling. But that had long passed, even moments ago as it was.

"Of course. What else would it be?" Number six shrugged. "Forgive me, however; I'm not exactly one to waste time talking like some of my compatriots." He lifted a hand to smooth back his pale hair, and carefully pull the breathing mask from his face, tossing it aside nonchalantly. "So let's, as they say...cut to the chase?"

With only a growl of frustration, the angel of challenge lurched forward. Sky Scorcher blazed with barely-repressed fury in one hand, while one of his signature swords was held at ease in the other. This one, at least, was an actual monster, he knew -- not just some evil human like most of the others, but something...much more sinister. And it would be doing the world a service to put him down.

Number six almost casually slid into a relaxed, easy stance only vaguely reminiscent of something tangential to martial arts.

Zayin leaped forward, striking out with both weapons...and was met with a spray of blood and an explosive plume of dust and dislodged battlefield rubble.

When it cleared, the special class vampire had lifted one arm and caught Zayin's sword between two fingers, holding it at bad. The flaming blade of the sky scorcher, however, had bit deep into his opposite shoulder, cleaving a blow nearly down to the bottom of his ribcage. "Poor choice of target," he murmured, as his wound already began to heal and mend itself, forcing the blade of the halberd slowly but steadily out of the wound.

Zayin didn't bother to puzzle over why his opponent hadn't bothered to even try and avoid the blow, instead only yanking his weapons free and staggering back a step. He was going to have to--

His focus was torn as the halberd in his hand was suddenly pulled on with a tremendous force, threatening to take his arm with it if he didn't let go. Stumbling aside, he cast a hurried glance to see what was up, and beheld the miraculously unblemished form of number ten staring back at him with a playful smirk.

"Room for one more, I trust?" and with a flick of his wrist he sent the sky scorcher spinning through the air to hover at his side as several other discarded weapons and dangerously sized chunks of rubble began to similarly lift into the air to array at his sides, ready to be put to deadly use.

"....you've got to be kidding me," Zayin said weakly, quickly fumbling his other sword into his hands.

"Unfortunately for you, no." And with a grin, the psion flicked a finger and sent the entire deadly storm crashing down in a barrage toward the angelic challenger, who desperately blocked and deflected the smaller projectiles while frantically dodging and scrambling around the larger ones.

"All defense and no offense makes an angel go dull," number six's voice murmured quite suddenly, nearly in Zayin's ear, before he felt a quick one-two impact in his back, which he was all but certain broke something, and sent him crumpling to the floor only to be comically battered by the last of number ten's psychic barrage.

"See, now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" As if to punctuate the moment, the psion came casually strolling up, clapping his hands, and the sky scorcher itself twirled over hover ominously over the grounded angel.

"Not so fast," Five's voice rasped as the hitman blipped into view. "That one's mine." He raised the Zenithian Sword threateningly. "I have a deal to follow through on."

"Oh, my, how scary." Number ten laughed at that, but stepped aside, dropping into an overly done bow and sweeping his arm out to the side, gesturing at Zayin. "By all means, then; finish the job, if you please."

"Don't mind if I do." And the hitman strolled up to the downed angel of challenge, smirking at him. "Nothing personal, here. Just part of the game, you know?"

"Couldn't have said it better myself." A new voice cut in, accompanied by the soft jingling clink of a flipping coin. "Tails. Unlucky day for you." A lone gunshot rang out, the bullet piercing a clean line through the chaos of the battle, right through Five's chest and putting a hole neatly between Zayin's eyes. "...very lucky day for me, though."

"A two for one, seven?" Number six turned to look over his shoulder. "Trying to steal the show right at the end to make up for your lack of work so far?"

The gambler just chuckled quietly to that, rolling a coin over his fingers. "What can I say? I'm not a direct fighter like most of you. I had to...bide my time."

"Well, regardless; let's go finish up here, shall we? Things are drawing to a close!" And number ten casually tossed the sky scorcher aside, before the special class scattered to go resume their chaos elsewhere.

As Zayin crumpled completely to the floor, the green mushroom he had been forcibly gifted tumbled out of his robes, landing in the crook of his arm. For a moment, nothing happened...then it jittered about and jumped up in the air, momentarily flashing and flickering before fading away to nothing with a soft jingle. All at once, the injuries Zayin's body had accumulated from his most recent scuffle melted away as if they had never been, and his eyes snapped back to focus.

Sitting bolt upright, the angel of challenge reflexively coughed. "Ugh...what just happened...?"

Results

#002 Zayin -- DEAD
#016 Five -- DEAD
#002 Zayin -- ALIVE

More to come shortly. Stay tuned.

 

[The Man in Red]

The Final Showdown
#002 Zayin, #007 King Shark, #X Princess Flavor​

Flavor latched onto Superman's arm and thrashed about like some horrid cross between a shark and a crocodile, jagged teeth sawing and gnashing and flaming breath scorching the ruined flesh beneath. For his part, the corrupted man of steel mercilessly and relentlessly pummeled her with his free hand, raining out a blurred storm of blows that hit with alternating sounds of a sledgehammer striking a side of beef or the side of a car. Blood started to stain his ruined knuckles, and cracks spread throughout the fusion's spiked shell.

Then there came a sharp CRACK and something gave.

Her teeth aching and threatening to splinter, something finally crunched. A piercing scream, of equal parts rage and surprise, went up from Superman's body as the arm bearing Soul Edge was violently ripped free of the rest of his body. Dark, oily blood dripped weakly from the stump of his arm as he staggered back, dropping to a knee. His body, grotesquely beaten and injured beyond all semblance of natural life, tried to surge back up to his feet, but his seemingly endless strength finally began to desert him. Without the malevolent will of Soul Edge, down here in thus sunless bunker, his broken and weary body had reached the limits of even its undead resilience.

He weakly staggered forward, his remaining arm lifting up and reaching out with trembling, questing fingers. A dim, pale red glow still burned in his eyes, though it was rapidly fading. "The...sword...give...it back...!" he croaked, voice dry and cracked. "I will...have..."

Flavor slowly rose up to stand, both hands tearing and ripping away the mangled flesh and tendrils of Soul Edge from what was left of Superman's arm. "Nuh-uh. This is mine now. You hear me? Mine!" And she took the hilt of the sword in her hand and stepped forward, delivering one quick strike that neatly bisected the zombified corpse, the last gasp of fury and stubborn survival in the former hero's body finally giving out. And Flavor gave a roaring shout of triumph, thrusting the corrupt sword overhead as a plume of fire erupted from her mouth in some strange mockery of victory fireworks.

And next second she whirled round and let loose an entirely new wave of fury and thunder across the gathered crowd of the special class, sending them all reeling and engulfed in a wave of fire and lightning. "Back off!" she roared, voice hoarse.

And she bolted into the fray, quite literally just barging through the scattered mass of her former opponents, and barreling right toward one of the two keeping this competition still going.

She hit Nanaue like a runaway semi truck hitting a garbage truck. Both of them went skidding over the floor from the impact, sparks flying and guttering as the blade of Soul Edge tried to batter its way past the sheer bulk and heft of Godfrey's Axe. "Nothing personal, shark-man, but this has gotta end! Like, right now!"

Nanaue's gills flared, his mouth setting in a grim line as he let out a rumbling noise from somewhere deep within. And he pushed back, with a surprising strength, sheer virtue of his much greater bulk and the awesome power of the Chieftan's Crown giving him the advantage in a purely physical contest. He lumbered forward, one step after another, forcing Flavor back steadily and relentlessly even as her heels dug deep grooves into the floor and she struggled with all her own immense might. "C'mon, this ain't right...!" she growled.

...and then she vanished. Melting into the shadows, and leaving King Shark to stumble drunkenly forward as he was suddenly fighting against nothing.

"Nanaue!" Zayin's voice suddenly shouted out, in panic, as he rushed across the battlefield. "Behind you!"

The king of sharks turned around, but too slowly. He was met with the lightning-wreathed arm cannon of the power suit slamming into the side of his face like a piledriver, electric current coursing through his body even as the barrel of the weapon dug and gouged into his flesh and across his face, burying itself in his eye socket. And with a rumbling and buildup of heat....it fired, letting loose a concentrated plume of fel energy, tongues of flame belching out and leaving oily smoke hanging thick in the air, as half of the shark king's face and head were incinerated in the blast, leaving him staggering back and crumbling to the floor in a heap.

Flavor alighted on her feet, breathing heavily and raggedly, keeping the barrel of her arm cannon trained on Nanaue's body. "Come on...you ain't down for good yet, I know it..."

Then the angel of challenge was upon her, howling with fury. The Zenithian Sword, taken from Five, flashed in one hand with Sky Scorcher blazed with fury in his other. He leaped forward, launching into an all-out frenzy of assault against Flavor. Waves of ice and lightning and fire from the sword, crackling arcs and earth-shaking electrical impacts from the halberd, all driven by eons of experience and precision. In terms of pure power, Zayin was very much outclassed. But there was a precision and manic energy to his blows that couldn't be undersold, and he forced Flavor on the defensive, if only momentarily.

"Back OFF!" she suddenly roared, letting loose a coruscating wave of energy with a swing of the corrupt sword, fire and lightning turning the battlefield rubble to glass and cinders as Zayin was sent tumbling back. ""I ain't gonna lose this one! Not now, after all this! I'm gonna--"

A shadow fell over her, as the earth shuddered beneath her feet. Nanaue, his face and head blackened and scorched, loomed over her with the axe of Godfrey clutched in both hands and wound up to his side ready to swing. With a wordless roar, he swung for all he was worth, like some great lumberjack trying to fell a mighty redwood in one fell stroke.

And the blow hit solidly, striking Flavor in the ribs with a horrid screeching, grating of metal as the chieftan's axe burst through the protective energy field, sheared through the power suit's metal exterior, and ripped through flesh and bone beneath. Sundered in twin at just above the waist, Princess Flavor was launched across the battlefield in two halves, each one skipping and leaving a bloody trail through the dust and rubble.

Bellowing fury and defiance to the world, the mighty shark king stormed after her, bulldozing through and over anyone and everything in his way, until one of his massive mitts seized the upper half of his fallen foe. His jaws yawned wide, gaping and promising certain, agonizing death, as he brought the mighty fusion into the gaping, razor-filled deaths.

Only Zayin saw what was about to happen, as his eyes widened. Tongues of flame flickered among the fusion's own jagged teeth, sparks of lightning arcing across her battered and broken form. "Nanaue, don't--!"

Too late.

His jaws bit down, crunching through metal and flesh and bone. Blood ran down his chin and spattered thickly on the floor. Then something practically exploded, with a dull rumbling BOOM deep in his innards, as his chest comically expanded. Red-orange light briefly lit him from within, as smoke billowed out of his gills and through his bloodied teeth. And then his body went limp, sagging, as he gave a wordless groan. His jaws went slack, and he slowly, ponderously, toppled over backward, even as Flavor's mangled and mutilated remains spilled from his mouth.

Both of them hit the ground at the same time, with a resounding crash, seeming to shake the entire arena.

Results

#007 King Shark -- DEAD

 

[The Man in Red]

The Final Showdown
#002 Zayin, #X Princess Flavor​

Zayin rushed to the side of his fallen friend and skidded to a halt, kneeling down next to him. "Nanaue! Nanaue! Come on..." He put a hand out and did his best to shake the massive shark man, but it might as well have been trying to shake a boulder. Slowly, his hand slid down to rest in the dust and blood on the floor, as his mind grappled with what had just happened.

Slowly, he rose up to stand again, almost mechanically, and turned in place to look at those who were left. Many of the special class, injured and battered but alive, remained. Seated on corpses or rubble, just watching.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Zayin said, quietly. "This is over. Just finish it already."

"Over?" fourteen mused. "Dear boy, this isn't over quite yet."

"What do you--" Zayin's blood, if he had any, would have run cold.

A soft scraping sound behind him, and then a long drawn-out hissing noise, like a breath through clenched teeth. No way, it couldn't be...! He whirled around in time to see the mangled remains of Princess Flavor suddenly lurching his way, trailing blood and gore in her wake but still, apparently, very much alive!

The angel of challenge scrambled back, bringing his weapons to bear just in time to defend himself from a clumsy lunging attack from the corrupt sword. As Flavor landed in a heap after the blow, she rolled over and spun awkwardly about, arm cannon of the power suit whipping up and letting off an unsteady barrage of shots in Zayin's general direction. "Hold...still...!" she growled, voice slurring and unsteady, as she crawled and pulled herself after him.

Something in Zayin's nonexistent guts churned at the sight, and he had to steel himself. What kind of horrors had the other equipment in this 'game' been to do something like this?!

He lunged in, sword flashing as he struck out. The awkwardness of fighting against an opponent in such a...disturbing state was difficult to overcome initially, but he put it out of mind. If his skill wouldn't suffice, then he'd just have to get...creative. Especially with the way Flavor kept floundering and flopping about, teleporting and jumping about unpredictably.

"Which one do you think's going to win?" distantly number five murmured quietly.

"If I had to guess...I have no clue," eighteen remarked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Before that one got torn in half, I'd have said it was a sure thing." Fourteen gestured at what remained of Flavor. "But now..."

"It could still go either way." Seven smirked. "One wrong move from either one, one solid hit, and it's lights out."

"....hmmm."

A torrent of flames belched out of Flavor's bloodied maw, bathing Zayin's side with withering heat, though he deftly spun around it and lunged in with what should have been a decisive chop. An arching ripple of lightning intercepted the blade, jolting his blow off course.

A swift hop carried him over a scything blow from Soul Edge, as he brought sky scorcher around in a ground-churning blow of his own. A jittering teleport through shadows saw Flavor suddenly behind Zayin, a salvo of energy bolts peppering his back and staggering him.

Taking momentary flight, Zayin hovered in the air and furrowed his brow, casting aside the sky scorcher to take the Zenithian sword in both hands. Raising it overhead, it crackled with a swirling cascade of fire, ice and lightning as he plummeted down on his foe like a divine comet.

Flavor cackled, lodging Soul Edge in the ground to lever herself up to meet the challenge head-on.

The impact rocked the entire arena, plumes of dust and bloody rubble throwing the entire place into chaos and momentarily blocking out the cameras.

After several seconds, there was a dull, grating rumble. And then a massive torrent of fire and lightning shot out of the dust, sending Zayin's scorched and battered body tumbling end over end to land in a crushed, smoking heap. He weakly curled in on himself, his battered and broken body trembling and shaking.

And from the rubble, Flavor came slowly crawling out. Dragging herself with one arm, the other one a ruined bloody mess of pulverized meat and bone trailing limply behind her. One eye was hanging out of its socket, her entire face covered in a multitude of burns and scorched flesh, and whatever had been left of her dress reduced to naught but ash staining her bloodied and beaten body. "Almost...had me..." she rasped, steadily crawling and dragging herself closer.

"...but not...good...enough...!" And she teleported forward in several quick, stuttering 'steps', and her clawed fingers closed about Zayin's neck from behind. Lifting him up, she roared wordlessly as she slammed his face into the ground. And then again. And again, and again, and again, until it was utterly unrecognizable and her shaking fingers were left holding only a mess of angel pulp.

Results

#002 Zayin -- DEAD

 

[The Man in Red]

The Final Showdown
#X Princess Flavor​

Flavor cackled victoriously, sputtering and hacking up a mixture of blood and something dark and oily as she slowly rolled over onto her back. "Hah...hahaha...take that..." she mumbled to no one in particular.

"To the fusion of contestants number six and number ten...Trevor O'Skully and Flak. Congratulations." The voice of the Man in Red spoke up from hidden speakers somewhere, that had miraculously survived the hell unleashed in the bunker-arena. "You are the last ones still standing -- or, perhaps, the last ones still alive. And as such....you are the victors of this little game of mine. Thank you for playing."

"I trust you enjoyed your time? No, no; don't bother answering that. There will be plenty of time later, when you aren't bleeding everywhere and in one piece again. I'll have someone along to scoop you up and get you somewhere for some proper medical treatment to keep you alive, never fear."

The speakers went dead at that, with a crackle of static.

And over Flavor's miraculously still living form, the shadow of several of the special class loomed.

"Poor thing," Fourteen murmured, one hand wrapped around the laser-induced hole in her side. "Let's get them somewhere nice and safe, quick."

"Yo, comin' through!" and number eight came barreling up, pulling a stretcher out of his back pocket and slamming it down. "C'mon, get her loaded up!"

And in short order, the battered and broken Princess of Flavor was safely loaded up onto the stretcher, and administered a probably dangerous dose of painkillers and anesthetic as she drifted off into a pleasant blackness, and was wheeled out of the hellscape that was the final arena.

To where? Who knows. But somewhere better than a bloody underground pit, at the very least.

Results

#X Princess Flavor -- WINNER!

 

[Shinku]

"Graaaahhhhhh!," Princess Flavor growled in agony, her body writhing in pain as she finally felt all the wounds, bruises, and fractures she sustained in the brutal death game. The medical team rushed to her side, administering painkillers and quickly transferring her to a clinical bed to transport her immediately to their medical facility.

Half-conscious, she could still hear the chaotic noises around her. The sound of footsteps running, machines beeping, and people discussing amongst themselves echoed around her as she drifted in and out.

With another growl, she twitched, snapping a cable connected to one of the portable machines that monitored her vitals. With another twitch, a restraint that secured her wrists to the bed snapped, as waves of excruciating pain rushed to her mangled body, a testament to the brutality and intensity of the death game she just endured.

"Easy there tiger!," a medical staff begged her, as the rest of her attendants struggled to keep her restrained. She wanted to calm down but her body couldn't help but react violently to the pain that pulsed through every inch of her being. It wasn't that long when she felt a light sting on her butt.

Slowly, her senses went dull. Voices started to get fainter and mangled, and all her pains started to subside. The sedative slowly took effect, ushering her into a peaceful, deep slumber.

'Where am I?,' she asked, as her eyes fluttered open to a dark void. Was she floating? Or was she standing in a cloud of pure darkness? She couldn't tell, but for some reason, she felt calmness and serenity.

Suddenly, the figures of Trevor and Flak formed right in front of her. "We did it," they both greeted in unison, the brighter tone in courtesy of the huge commander that faced her with a wide grin, and a much grimmer tone blended with it in courtesy of Trevor.

"We sure did!," she replied, her voice filled with pride and satisfaction, but also tinged with a bit of sadness as she realized that her time of existence is almost up.

“Ya did good there pal!,” Flak greeted again, extending his arm in an invitation for a fist bump. Princess Flavor reciprocated the gesture, a bit reluctant but somehow felt warmth upon contact with the commander’s large hand.

"So I guess my time here is up eh," she remarked, flashing a bittersweet smile as she pulled her arm back.

Trevor remained silent, his expression solemn as he nodded in response to the princess’ query. Flak, on the other hand, stepped closer to her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Badass girl, will be alive in here!," Flak exclaimed, beating his chest and offering the forlorn princess a proud look.

A surge of emotions flooded within her, memories of her battles in the death game flashing before her eyes as the two slowly faded from her view. A kaleidoscope of colors and images filled the void around her, rapidly changing from frame to frame, settings upon settings.

The memories, however, eventually faded and the world around her swallowed her into a chaotic vortex. She braced herself, flashing one last smile before her body slowly disintegrated into nothingness.

Once again, a flash of light welcomed the vision, this time of Shinku waking up in a hospital room, his body hooked up to various machines and monitors. He looked around, a bit disoriented, wondering if all the events in his memories were real or merely long vivid dreams.

The scars on his body did remind him that all the battles were real, but memories of the fusion remained a puzzle in his thought. He helped himself up, sitting on the bed as he took a few deep breaths. At that moment, all that mattered was the fact that he was still alive.

 

[Ridley]

It wasn’t long before Flak woke up, dizzy as all hell and feeling about to vomit for the first couple seconds.

“...What the hell kind of fight even was that! I was a dude, then I was a chick, then I had that funny ring and I was also Trev and we had that big fight and now everything’s all weird and fuzzy and I’m back to bein’ a dude! And I feel like I ain’t ate in days!”

The Wyvern Lieutenant got back up to his feet, scratching an ass that hadn’t existed for at least a couple days now, and stumbled out of his hospital bed, ready to get going, though as he got up, something hit him.

“Uhh…”

The giant patted at his legs, several times. Then, after a moment of silence, several more.

“Yep. still there.”

Flak’s eyes blinked as a nurse stepped in, looking up at him. Nice lady, black wavy hair, tiny nose, and a lovely red uniform. Didn’t look great with her face all agape.

“A-a-ah, y-you’re…”

“Flak, yeah. You didn’t see me before the game-” Flak asked, surprised, before realizing something. Something important.

There was no familiar red tinge to his vision.

His long-lashed baby blues blinked several times as he put up a hand to his well-groomed, naturally swept Carmine locks of hair… then grabbed the nurse by the shoulders.

“Listen! You didn’t see anything”

“Uhhh… buhh… why…”

“Nobody hears about this!” Flak insisted, shaking her a little.

“Uhhh… ohh… okay?”

With a panicked grin, Flak turned around to find his goggles and helmet, putting them both back on in a flash, before noticing… something else sitting on the medical cabinet.

A familiar symbol of authority .

“Hmm… Yeah, sure.” the general added with a shrug, taking the Super crown in one hand as he started walking down the hall.

“I… I’m supposed to do your check-up!” the nurse yelled.

“Later! I got a bud to save!”

“O-okay. Later? Wait, my number is-”

---

The door to Trevor’s hospital room didn't have a door, which was kinda sad because Flak figured it’d be great to dramatically slam that sucker open. Still, he flashed Trevor an award-winning smile as he came and saw him.

“So am I the best damn commander you’ve ever met or what? Flavor army 1, rest of deathgame nothin’!” he called out, slamming a fist against his chest with a smirk… one that faded slightly as he added, “But it probably would’ve been harder if I didn’t have the best damn soldier in the crossroads with me! How ya feeling Trez? Seem to recall we lost out footing out there. Get it, cause we was legless! Ha-haw!” The big man blustered, looking Trevor in the eyes with that same goofy grin.

“We… did it? We… we did it!” Trevor replied, a smile falling across his face as he looked up to Flak. “And we did it together!”

Flak gave a sheepish look. “Course, Flavor kinda did the heavy lifting, but, y’know, kinda counts as us!” He cried out, crossing his arms across his chest. “But man, looking forward to being outta this place and getting some interviews as the 2 Deathgame winners of all time!”


Trev blinked, clearing his vision. “Yeah, that sounds nice!”

“And think! We also Won pillowgame ‘23!” Flak will point out. “So we’re probably getting double prizes!”

Trevor just gave a long sigh. “...good to see you haven’t changed at all, buddy.”