Character Scramble 15 Semifinals: I'm Still Here

[u/LetterSequence]

This round is now closed for voting! Please vote for the write ups in the form linked here. Voting will close at 10PM on April 12th.

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Hub Post

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This round is for matches 37 and 38 on the bracket. Make sure to double check to see if you’re in this one!

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Your journey is reaching its end. The location of Kingdom Hearts may be nearly impossible to reach on foot, by land, or by sky. Except there is one way to get there. After all this time traveling, all the information you’ve acquired, all the things you’ve seen, you know the secret. It all involves a door.

“When the door is open, so too will Kingdom Hearts open.”

There’s one door that is spoken of. A door used by a dreaded space captain. This captain stole treasures from all across the universe, and kept them to himself, never to be seen again. This door is a portal that opens to his treasure, and it can also open up to anywhere in the entire universe. It can open the way to Kingdom Hearts.

And that door is located on…

Treasure Planet

So you know where to go. But how do you exactly open this door?

Luckily for you, one brave adventurer holds a map, a spaceship, and the key to this door, and is looking for a crew to help escort them across the cosmos to reach the planet unharmed. That’s when the ideas start to formulate.

Escort or Heist?

Will your team present themselves to this adventurer and offer them aid? In exchange for directions, a split prize, and a companion, this would involve ensuring their safety, providing passage across all of Treasure Planet, fighting off any who would stand in your path, putting your life in harm's way all the while.

Or… will your team simply wait for someone else to take up the offer? If they follow this path, they can stalk the team who joins them instead. By prowling in wait, they can ambush the other team at the vital moment they reach the treasure, and take it all for themselves. However, you’d need to obtain your own means of travel, as losing sight of them means losing the treasure in its entirety.

Space, Land, or Underground?

Traversing an entire planet aimlessly is a good way to get yourselves killed. You’ll need to pick a route that’s safest to get there with the least danger possible.

Do you approach from outer space? Going from above may seem like the route with the least danger, but it comes with plenty of downsides. One wrong move, a stray asteroid, an attack that leaves you stranded from the ship, can leave you floating in the deep reaches of space until you finally perish.

Do you approach from land? It’s the most straightforward and easiest to circumnavigate, but this planet is covered in deep jungles and vegetation, with very little wildlife. Resources may be difficult to manage, the path would be the longest, and an ambush is almost all but guaranteed.

Do you approach from the underground? Beneath the surface is an entire system of passageways, tunnels, and heavy machinery, as if the planet was built by some insane person. It’d get you to the door the fastest if you know where you’re going, but if you don’t… you may be lost under here forever.

The Door

At the pivotal moment when the door is open, what will your team do? It can offer them guidance, lead them anywhere in the universe, and lead them exactly to Kingdom Hearts. But the promise of unlimited riches stands in front of them as well. It is here that what is most important to them will be tested.

All of this being said… this is the final leg of your quest before finally obtaining all you desire. So… what will you do?

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Scramble Rules

That’s Sora, Donald, and Goofy Too!: Every participant this season received three characters on their team, but many of them might not be a household name. To aid with readability, please give a brief summary of your characters, with enough information so the average reader can get excited for your team before starting.

Let Your Heart Be Your Guiding Key: Your write up will depict a scenario where your team is the victor. Even if your team has a one in a million chance of overcoming the odds, show what they’d need to do to come out on top against the challenge in front of them!

Unlocking Limit Form: Writers are allowed to make changes to their characters in their narrative to fit their story, such as allowing power stealers to gain more powers, teaching martial artists new techniques, or having characters gradually grow in strength between rounds. However, you are not beholden to following what your opponent is doing. When facing another team, you are only required to write their characters as they were submitted. This is to help with ease of research, and make things more fun for both sides.

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Round Rules

Guest Starring…: Space Adventurers! The guest in this round is someone who has a vested interest in Treasure Planet. Are they the person who holds the key, who needs to be escorted to the door? Are they the leader of the band of misfits who intend on stealing your treasure for themselves, or the group that escorts the client to the door? Are they a lone wanderer, stuck on this planet, who once resided on the crew of the captain who stole all the treasure? However they show up is up to you!

Setting: Treasure Planet, a mysterious and deadly planet said to hold all the treasures in the world at its core. The solar system surrounding it, deep in the cosmos, bathes this world in purple hues, the lights from hundreds of millions of stars. The planet itself is teeming with vegetation. Thick jungles, moss, mildew, and yet curiously, no life at all. Only the remnants of an adventure long since finished. Underneath the surface, this planet functions as a machine. Deep tunnels that lead to secret passageways, lights that illuminate this world, and cogs turning for some reason or another. There are plenty of paths that all lead to the same place. The door that leads to everywhere, and most importantly, to your goal.

Key Points: The key points of this round are as follows. You must obtain the key to open the door that leads into your ultimate goal (Kingdom Hearts). How you obtain this key, reach the door, and what roles the enemy team and guest fill are up to you.

Post Limit: For this round, writers will be limited to 10 posts, or 100k characters. While it is fine to go a little bit over, anything that far surpasses this limit will be automatically disqualified. This limit does not include intro posts, or analysis of the matchup. Use your best judgment, if you think your story is too long for the round, it probably is.

Due Date: Write ups will be due at 10PM EST on April 8th. That’s a full month, so you should have plenty of time!

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Flavor Suggestions

The Door is Open: Your team is heading for the door that resides somewhere on this planet. This door is essentially a portal that can lead to anywhere in the entire universe. While you ultimately have a destination in mind, does such a prospect tempt anyone on your team? How would they react to such an easy method of transportation? Would they try to keep it for themselves? Visit any places before settling on Kingdom Hearts?

Fool’s Gold: The core of Treasure Planet is roughly one hundred million billion metric tons of gold, jewelry, and riches stolen from various cultures and civilizations. Maybe your team is only in it for the money. So, is there something that’d tempt them even more than this? Some kind of goal that’d make them seek out Kingdom Hearts instead of ending their journey here and just nabbing as much gold as they can get their hands on? Or maybe, they’ll get greedy, and try to do both? Remember, it all depends on what your team would do!

[u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Two miles away, a helicopter circled Zaun's city limits. This was a small operation. The first operative was merely functional, in the pilot's seat; the second was the star of the show, hanging out of the open door, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun. After all, his eyes were very sensitive. He was channeling the visual acuity of an eagle and the infrared sight of a bullfrog, allowing him to track his targets in the middle of a crowded city from a distance. It wasn't too hard to identify the specifics. Not when one of them was jumping clear over the buildings like that.

"What do you think," the pilot asked, "You got your guy?"

The other man didn't respond for a moment. It wasn't that he had to think about his answer. It was more that he didn't know how to feel about it.

"That's absolutely Saxton Hale. It's time to move in."

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Hale was starting to learn a thing or two about tactical retreating. So-called "conventional wisdom" said that you retreated from a fight you couldn't win. Hale had cleverly adapted the tactic of running from a fight to suit his own interests--running from a fight to find larger, better fights.

See, Hale understood Chuuya when he flew off. He really got to understanding that guy, even if he was a shrimp with baby arms and hippie hair. He knew Chuuya wasn't leaving because he was scared. He was ditching Steeljack while he was distracted, to go and settle accounts with that boss guy or whatever his name was (Hale wasn't listening).

The point was, it was more like he was delegating the fight to Fourze. This was his sign of trust in the kid. He'd seen him fight, they'd tussled with each other's foes, now he was passing off this badass knight battle to him. There were much bigger fish to fry than this. The sheer aura of violence radiating from the entire city got Saxton's fighter's blood boiling, he was ready to start throwing down and administering dope slaps and dick punches. He just needed to find his perfect match. Clearly, if he just started swinging his legs and arms as hard as he could in a crowded area, then he would eventually run into someone tough.

So he did. He leapt right into another dark alley, straight through a crowd of muscled roughnecks, and did what he did best. They didn't even know what hit them. People started flying through walls, dashed against rocks. Blood splashed. A foot flew through the air and nobody knew whose it was. Yes, this was Hale's truth. The fury, the whirlwind, the deathbringer! He didn't need a reason to fight, he just needed a strong opponent, away from that moralizing kid.

And immediately, things were different. This wasn't like G-CORP, Hale could actually feel those punches. This was beyond simple martial arts training. These were people forged in the heart of battle, people who could take Saxton's blows, people who could perform admirably against an Australian. Finally, he was alive, he was free, he was... he was...

God damn it, he was bored! This wasn't fun for him anymore! Something was wrong, something had infected him. It was that kid! That damn kid, his niceness had gotten him all mixed up, and now he couldn't enjoy picking a fight with a hundred guys at once. The day that Saxton Hale doesn't enjoy that is the day Hell freezes over, but clearly Hell had frozen because he was getting kicked in the kidneys and it was barely mustering a chuckle out of him. What was it? What was he missing that he'd had before, that made him so happy before? All he felt was--he didn't know. He didn't know what he felt, and that was really starting to eat him.

He shoved his way through the crowd, cleared a path straight through the front of the closest building, and jumped! Up, straight through the floors, bursting through each story until he'd cleared the roof, then touched down and hopped away across the avenues. A hop, skip, and a jump, from rooftop to rooftop, putting some space between him and the mob he'd created. It sounded like they were carrying on the fight in his absence, but even senseless violence couldn't cheer him up now.

What the hell was he doing, really? Why did he leave Fourze alone like that, run off to get into a brawl that didn't even thrill him? Had friendship made him soft?

Uh-oh. Now he was starting to have angsty internal monologues. That kid had really gotten his hooks into him.

The wind picked up. Saxton craned his neck and saw a helicopter lowering itself down towards the rooftops. It was sleek, jet black, and had no identifying markers. Black ops, maybe. Hale was familiar with this cloak and dagger stuff, he knew when governments wanted to keep this secret. He shipped munitions to most of them, after all.

Normally, when they hovered in the air like that, some mercenaries would start sliding down on a rope or something, but Hale couldn't see anything along those lines. Yet he could still sense another presence. The pilot up in the heli, and something... invisible? Something busily swooping towards him.

He stepped out of the way at the last moment, and the thing flew by him. It skidded across the roof. Plaster and concrete tore up and trenches dug themselves into the ground, revealing two parallel paths like someone pushed their heels in and skidded backwards. The mystery man.

"I thought it wouldn't be that easy," he said. A male voice. American accent. "You can see through the camo?"

"Don't need to. What is that, anyway? Even I've never seen cloaking tech that can fool my eyes, and I sell the best."

"That's because it's not for sale."

The man painted himself out of thin air. Blue and orange scales dappled into view and before his eyes the man reconstructed himself. A tall guy, with wild blonde hair and a ridiculous superhero outfit that paired a jacket with a jumpsuit.

"The name's Animal Man, and that was chameleon skin with some peregrine falcon flight. We need to talk."

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Animal Man

Buddy Baker is a superhero with the alias Animal Man. His story is typical in his world: stumbled across an alien spacecraft, touched it, got strange powers. In his case, he can tap into a "morphogenetic field" that allows him to copy animal powers. Buddy's abilities gave him a deep sympathy for animals, and among his fellow superheroes he's notorious for his activism. Buddy is known to engage in vigilantism and even borderline terrorism to fight against poachers, illegal experimenters, and the like. He's also been through some serious shit. Like, fucked up stuff. Don't even ask.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

"I'd bet we don't need to talk," Hale said. "Unless you're looking for a scrap. Or some kinda major arms deal. Then you can jaw away."

"No, Hale. This isn't about that. This is about you, personally. Once I heard you'd gotten stuck outside of Australia, I knew I had to see you. I called in favors. Went under the Justice League's nose. Got through JSDF-patrolled closed-off airspace. All so I could finally meet the famous Mr. Hale."

Hale struck a circus strongman pose. A singular ripple seemed to ebb out from the entirety of his muscles, like a rock dropped into a pond, flowing from one side of his taut skin to the other.

"Well, you got a meeting with the genuine article. What do you want, an autograph?"

"It's not just what I want. I'm acting on behalf of the Australian government today. They want you to stand trial in their territory, not Japan's. And I want you to turn yourself in quietly."

Oh. Oh. He got it now. "The government is after me, too? Can't anyone just give me a bloody break?! So what, I punched a couple cops! That's like a national pastime down under!"

"I really don't care what they want. I just needed their cooperation so I could talk to you. Back there, you were protected, you had your cronies, the laws were stacked up like a fortress around you. It's not like that here. I want you to tell me something, honestly, face to face. No red tape, no lies."

He circled around Hale's shoulder. Animal Man was radiating--something, a dark aura that made Hale hesitate to step in for the first punch. It didn't seem like he wanted to fight, and yet he seemed so angry...

"Do you know that you hunted at least eight different species to extinction?"

Hale smirked. "At least."

"Not for its body," he continued, "Not even for profit. Do you realize how--insane--it sounds, that you fought and killed so many things that were alive, and felt pain like you and me, and did it in the most inhumane and grotesque way I could imagine, because you wanted to fistfight them? I've wanted to ask you, ever since I learned what you'd done. Do you feel any shame at all?"

Huh.

This topic. He remembered this. This was something that got Hale negative attention before. Most human opponents posed no challenge to Hale, so he took his fights to the animal kingdom, battling the rarest and most exotic creatures and wrestling them with his bare hands. Those fights were usually to the death. Sometimes the animal was the last of its kind. There were these talks, and arguments, and protests, and lots of people shouting at him. They dared to talk that way to Saxton Hale! Nobody tough at all, a bunch of flowy-haired hippies telling him how to live his life, saying he couldn't do this and that!

That was just what the bastards back at Mann Co had done! Just what Mishima and those government stuffed shirts had done! They were always prodding and poking him, criticizing them, trying to fit him into one of their boxes, trying to make him what they wanted him to be! It was like people didn't even want him to exist anymore! All these people that didn't understand him, could never understand him! Because Saxton Hale was an individual, God broke the mold on him, never to be used again, born the strongest, elevated above everyone else, looking for a true equal!

They didn't know what it was like to be alone.

"I make it a policy not to regret anything," Hale said, at last. "I'm a killer. I'm a ruthless, gun-dealing son of a bitch, and I don't shed any tears. It thrills me, even. Knowing that I snap my fingers, and a million weapons ship out and change the world. It's even better when you're right in the thick of the action yourself. Breaking an elephant's neck over my knee as I twist its body into an impossible grapple. Tearing an arm off an endangered gorilla on the highest Himalayan peak. I admit it, I did it all, I killed so many of those critters it'd make your head spin right off your block. And I didn't do it for sport, or for pride. I did it because I am Saxton Hale. I am not nice, I am not easy, and I am absolutely not weak. If I didn't prove it every day, I wouldn't exist anymore. So let me ask you a question, you self-righteous thrift store superhero wanker. Do you have a problem with the way I live? If you do... you'd better be ready to settle it with your fists."

Hale put his dukes up. Two guns more powerful than anything he'd ever sold, already twinkling with sweat and stained in blood. Animal Man gave it a quick glance, then back up to meet Hale's eyes.

"It sounds to me," Animal Man said, "Like it'd be safer for everyone if you were locked up for good."

"They don't make chains strong enough for me."

The two of them stepped forward at the same time, and vanished. And then, with a crack of thunder, they collided.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Well, there's a lot to analyze here. The juxtaposition of the ancient armor and the diesel machine? The man had mentioned the Round Table--did that mean the Round Table Fourze was thinking of? Was he a time traveler? Did he get frozen in ice like Captain America?

Okay. That should probably wait for later. Fourze was gonna get himself into a bigger mess by dawdling and daydreaming.

"You, foeman of the ivory armor." That sword was sharp. That sword was SO sharp, and he toted it as casually as a cigarette. "Why do you stand and prepare to fight, while your allies abandon you?"

"That's the question, huh," Fourze said.

The knight removed his helmet. He was strikingly handsome. "You seem to bear a higher character than that rabble. Why then, foeman, do you defend their meager honor?"

"That's the question, huh," Fourze said.

"Repetitious foeman, give me your name. If you are indeed a man of standards, so much as a brigand may be, you are at least worth my title, if you will permit me yours."

No, he couldn't suppress those thoughts anymore. He couldn't. Too much of his life was internal. His friends had run off to fight on their own and he was in a dirty crater, and maybe his other friends were dead or hated him now and maybe his grandpa would die while he was still a murderer and a fugitive. This all flooded suddenly into his mind in three seconds while he was standing there and the knight was looking at him on his bike.

He closed his eyes. He pushed it out, and breathed.

"My name is Gentaro Kisaragi. I ain't a knight or anything, but my dream is to make friends with everyone I can. Because everyone needs a friend."

"I see. That is truly a worthy creed, foeman Kisaragi. To repay your courtesy, I shall reveal my name in turn."

And the black knight bowed, and was true to his word.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Sir Lancelot du Lac

Undeniably the most famous of King Arthur's knights, and often considered the bravest. Lancelot went on many adventures and won many honors, but he is unfortunately known for his failures more than his successes, such as the berserker rages he frequently fell into, and his affair with Guinevere which contributed to the downfall of Camelot.

Lancelot originates from the 12th century chivalric romance The Knight of the Cart, written by Chrétien de Troyes several centuries after the historical Arthur would have lived (if there was any historical basis for King Arthur at all). However, he undeniably exists in the factual present; he is Mishima's successful experiment to write a complex fictional concept into a physical truth.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Lancelot edged the rim of the crater with the front wheel. It wasn't huge, certainly wasn't bigger than the craters Fourze had seen back on the moon. The scene felt more like he was in a motorcycle cage. Some kind of circus act, a hapless volunteer in the middle of a ring with the stuntman about to bear down on him. But it wasn't anything more serious than what he'd already dealt with before. Fighting the Zodiarts, battling another Kamen Rider, or a ten-foot-tall monster. This was something he could handle.

So why was he so nervous?

The black knight gunned the engine, and barreled down the side of the crater straight towards Fourze.

Fourze had been inside a building when Chuuya Nakahara brought the whole thing down. And he'd fought a guy that tried to hit Yokohama with a sun. A freaking sun. For all he knew, this guy was going to be just as strong. Or stronger. And there was no way to know which was which until he started fighting.

But, if he was too strong, then what was he supposed to do? Not fight? That wasn't something he could give up. Being a Kamen Rider wasn't something you threw aside if it got too hard.

Lancelot was 40 feet away.

C'mon. Come on.

30 feet.

Closer. C'mon, closer.

20 feet.

Now!

Lancelot drove the distance in a fraction of a moment, and by the time he hit the 10 foot mark his sword and arm were already long enough to split Fourze in two where he stood. That was when he had to act.

Water, on!

He swung his claymore, but he simply hit the empty space where Fourze had been. The Kamen Rider had fallen onto his back, pulled his knee up to his chest, and fired a high-pressure aquatic spray straight from his shin to Lancelot's solar plexus. It was enough to stop his forward momentum. In fact, it lifted the entire thing straight into the air, bike and rider.

It was a snap decision. Fourze was quick, but he couldn't sprint as fast as a top-of-the-line motorcycle. That's kinda why he rode one. If he could knock Lancelot off the bike, he could disable a serious advantage. Right now Lancelot spun merrily through the air. Wild vertical rotation easily beyond 360 degrees, twirling like a top, guaranteed to bail in his heavy armor. That was what would've made logical sense.

Instead, in the eyeblink he'd been flipped rightside-up, he speared his sword into the ground, rooting himself in place with sheer strength of arm. Lancelot allowed the bike to swing away, backwards, then swung himself forward again and launched with the momentum, swinging down mightily on Fourze. He had to pump his jetpack to push himself away from the blade, missing the edge by centimeters. What was that? What the hell was that supposed to be?! Was he some kind of acrobat?

No time to question it, here he comes again--

N+S Magnet, on!

He had to risk it. He transformed while Lancelot was bearing down on him, giving him no time to dodge. It wasn't his sword this time--the motorcycle itself was about to run him over, the front wheel a foot away. On the other hand, he was wearing a lot of metal. It only made sense to try and repel him.

Just before he was about to be dashed against the unforgiving ground by a speeding motorcycle, Fourze fired a shot of charged, repulsive magnetic energy that did absolutely nothing.

The front wheel of the bike had lifted slightly off the ground, enough that the tire struck him directly in the gut above his groin. The impact rippled through his whole body. His guts shuddered, his heart beat erratically. Quickly the tire gained purchase on his Rider suit, the treads pulling straight up his chest as Lancelot accelerated through him and pulled him underneath the wheels of the motorcycle. What did that add up to, a man that height, with armor and a full-size claymore and a speed machine like that? Must've been nearly half a ton. Half a ton driving straight over Fourze's body.

Yeah. That would've fucking killed him if he wasn't in the suit. He wasn't exactly having a good time with it. Why didn't that work? That was definitely metal, he could've pushed or pulled anything with his Magnet form. Unless it wasn't ferromagnetic? That's absurd, was his armor made of stainless steel or something?

Of course. Why wouldn't it be? They knew how Fourze fought by now. They had plenty of time to adapt.

Lancelot circled around, turning in an impossibly tight curve to throw a backhand sword-swing towards Fourze's prone body. He was beaten, sure, but he wasn't dead, it was just one hard hit. He twisted his body away, avoided the blow, but the knight only had to flick his wrist to scoop Fourze's body up with the flat of the blade. Instinctively, Fourze held on. Lancelot revved the engine. Away they went.

That was unmistakable riding talent. Fourze had never really been big on Arthurian mythology (he only knew Lancelot from anime), but he got the sense the guy was good on horseback. He could maneuver the bike underneath him like a steed, guiding it with twists that could've jackknifed if it were anyone else behind the handlebars. He hit the other side of the crater, rode up and jumped the whole thing into the air like a skier off a ramp, Fourze still clinging desperately to the sword. While Lancelot sped on towards another cramped alley, Fourze reviewed his options. Parachute Switch? Rocket Switch? Yeah, Rocket Switch was the way to go--

The sword swung with Fourze still on it and slammed him straight through the wall parallel to Lancelot. The Switch dropped from his hand. Lancelot had sped straight into one of the crooked, tight side streets, pressed in on all sides by buildings, and it was easy enough to simply hold his arm out and let Fourze scrape through the concrete siding. There was no thought, just alternating pain and numbness coming to him in waves, letting up for split instants whenever he tore through one building's wall and just before he smashed into another; agony, nothing, agony, nothing.

Was this another strong one? Like Karna? Like Chuuya? Did it even matter? It took all his energy just to stay conscious through the barrage. He only noticed something had changed when the pain-numbness pattern slowed down, the motorcycle steadily coming to a stop as its engine sputtered.

Of course, you can't ride a chopper that hard, was the first thing Fourze thought when he snapped back to awareness. His other senses came back slowly, then all at once--the realization he was upside-down on his back, the surging aches of his injuries, and the sky full of stars above him.

Once again, he was staring into the Sun. Hanging by that was Mercury, then Venus, and the little blue planet. All the other celestial bodies were in their orders, and their orbits--hell, even Pluto. Fourze blinked. He twisted his neck (painful), saw the other dioramas, reconstructions of spacecraft now half-rotting. Saw Lancelot getting up from his bike, now spewing smoke.

It was a planetarium. Clearly, the place had fallen into disrepair along with everything else in the city. If the ninth planet was still hanging around, it'd probably been built a long time ago. Looking up at the heavens. Surrounded by space itself. It would be a fitting place to die.

Of course, it'd be a nice place to live, too. He'd have to weigh his options, 'cause Lancelot was heading straight towards him.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

What?

Hale thought. For a brief moment. In a white flash lasting a single instant.

Where am I?

His eyes refocused and the world seemed to come in around him. In that fraction of a moment, he saw what had happened. His fist, held out, missing Animal Man by a mile. The hero's own fist, crumpling into his face.

• SUPERHUMAN REACTION TIME (housefly)
• SUPERSONIC PUNCH (mantis shrimp)

He'd underestimated him. No hippie had ever punched Saxton Hale before, hadn't even dared--but this was clearly a super-hippie, forged in the fires of okra and socialism as the perfect anti-Hale weapon. Or something. He was trying a lot of mental tactics to come to terms with the fact that a man that wasn't even Australian had just cold-clocked him with a phantom punch.

That punch flowed into a series of relentless jabs, fourteen or fifteen rolling out near-simultaneously. Hale had to give it to him, the guy knew how to follow up. The most important part of a fight was always following up on your hits, after all, and he wasn't giving Hale the slightest opportunity to counter with his famous fists. All he could do was parry with his forearm. It wasn't like he couldn't take the hits or anything, but it wasn't the kind of punch Hale wanted to take a hundred of directly to the face. Fortunately, he still had his legs.

Saxton stomped down hard. His heel pushed through the floor, and all around him cracks and cervices webbed outward from one side of the roof to the other. That was enough to knock Animal Man off balance for a tenth, a sixtieth of a second, some small timeframe that wasn't enough for a panicked heartbeat. It was, in fact, just barely enough time to throw a killer uppercut right into a jaw, and Animal Man was lifted six feet in the air. When he came back down again Saxton tackled him straight off the building.

Ideally, he would tackle him through the building the alley over, but things never turned out how Hale wanted. How was he supposed to know Animal Man could fall UP?

• FLIGHT (peregrine falcon)

What was the point of that, just to drop him from a height? How could he let go of him? Saxton's grappling was legendary! Animal Man could never escape his tackle no matter what he tried, not that it was skillful or competent, but he was very, very strong. Surely even Super-Hippie here couldn't shake him off that easily.

• ELECTRICITY GENERATION (electric eel)
• POISONOUS SKIN (poison dart frog)

He was trying his damnedest, though.

Voltage like a city power line ran through his heart, toxin enough to kill an elephant ran through his body. Hale was familiar with these animals, but normally their defense mechanisms were just a pleasant tickle to him. This was scaled up and massively intensified, like a kid's balloon swollen into a zeppelin. That was enough to make him let go.

But the fool flew back for him! He barreled right into his torso while Hale spun in freefall, blasting down to bounce off another roof and landing on another still. Hale shoved him away and got to one knee.

"Must feel like a haunting," Animal Man said. "All the animals you've killed, beating you down one by one."

"They're just stupid animals, for God's sake!" Hale said, exasperated. "They don't," huff, puff, "even think! They don't have brains!"

"That's so ridiculous I don't even know where to begin. This is why I wanted to talk to you! If you could just understand, about the animals, maybe things could change."

Hale tore a chunk out of the roof and threw it at Animal Man, shattering over his guard.

"I don't want to change! Why should I, suddenly, have to change when everything was fine before!? I don't need to be fixed, damn you! I'll tear you apart! I'll beat you to death, then no one can lecture me!"

He bounded towards him. There wasn't any need to talk it out or think about it. Just punch. Just break things. It always worked out, that wouldn't change, he wouldn't change. His fist just had to reach him.

And, at the last moment--

CLAP

--he phased through Animal Man's body and tripped onto his face. What the hell kind of animal was that supposed to be? No--it didn't feel like he passed through him, more like his position suddenly changed. How?

"This city is full of exotic life," Animal Man said. "The toughest, strongest, strangest people in the entire country... Did you think I couldn't copy humans?"

• SWAPPING THE PLACEMENT OF TWO OBJECTS WITH A HAND CLAP (Aoi Todo)

Come on, stand up, keep fighting. Animal Man was already running up on him just to press the advantage. Hale pulled himself to his feet and turned around just in time for a fistful of swords to slash across his body.

• BLADE FORMATION (Kotomine Kirei)

Animal Man's speed, boosted by flies and ants and cheetahs, was faster even than Bradley's and with sharper blades. "I could take your Australian body, too, use your own strength against you. But I don't have to. The last thing you need is more ego stroking."

It was all he could do to keep the slashes away from the vital parts of his body, but now he felt himself slowing down, his joints stressed by an unfamiliar pressure. His shoes sank into the concrete like a palm of God was pushing down on him, and instantly he knew what creature he was copying.

• GRAVITY CONTROL (Chuuya/???)

It was the moment he realized that the blades pierced his heart. Hale sank over Animal Man's body, being held like Christ off the cross. His breathing slowed. In the distance, through the swimming blood in his brain, he heard the encroachment of more black helicopters. Helicopters coming for him.

Hale grinned as the blood dripped down his jawline.

"Guess it's time to start taking this serious." Nobody ever lost after they said a line like that.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

The Occupied Zone was in the deepest pit of poverty. It was hard to believe that Mori could exist in a place like this, let alone be born into it, but Dazai's intelligence network had never failed him. It made sense, anyway. Any information about Mori's past was a total blank. Chuuya had bumped into plenty of crooks who covered up their identities, but nothing looked as strange as his secret attempts to check Mori's history. It'd make more sense if he never had a birth certificate in the first place.

One question, though: If Mori had come here, to his hometown, then where was he? Answer: Somewhere ostentatious.

That's what he was scouting for. The fanciest-looking place in this scummy cesspool. His eyes weren't much better than average or anything, and the awkward way he was flying over the city wasn't helping, but it wasn't hard to notice one building that stood out from the others. Well, it was just an apartment building like many of the others in the seemingly-abandoned city. But it wasn't partially destroyed, or covered in moss, or on fire. And the lights were on.

Chuuya let go of his gravitational hold on the bird, and his foot peeled away from its belly without it ever caring he was there. He was plummeting now. Angling downwards like a javelin, falling at some strange angle totally at odds with conventional physics. He wasn't going to let anything get between him and his target. Not even God's natural laws.

He crashed straight through the outer wall. It was just another building, just another hallway, like the stupid hallways he'd been fighting through in the office building. The difference was that it looked like someone had made an effort to clean it. Even though the ceilings looked leaky and the floor looked like some serious mold damage had been done long ago, it wasn't dusty, and there were lanterns hung up to keep the place looking cozy despite the lack of conventional electricity.

More than that. He could feel it. Mori was here. Mori, Mori, MORI!!

In his rage, Chuuya might've been able to jump up to the next floor like Saxton, but that wasn't his style. He sprinted, valuing speed over precision, twisting his body so his feet left the floor and he ran straight up the wall. Everything in his vision spiraled out of control once he found the stairs. He never touched a single stairstep. He was throwing himself upwards, using walls and ceilings as footholds, treating any surface like a floor. All he cared about was going up, towards that hateful feeling he'd gotten, this aura of incredible power! Another floor up, and another, twisting through stairwell after stairwell. And once he was there--he knew, he knew. Knew he was there. Knew something was there, anyway.

Yeah. He ended up being surprised.

This was just another level of the apartment building, probably the topmost one before the roof itself. It was a straight and narrow hallway, twice enough room for Chuuya to hold his arms out. Doors lining the sides, apartment numbers. The look and smell of fresh paint in a functional but cozy beige along the walls. At the far end of that hall was a door--Maintenance Office--with a guard out front. Pink hair. Massive, heavy gauntlets. She'd pulled up a folding chair right outside and sat down, one leg lazily tucked over the other. Of course Mori wouldn't make it easy on him, this shit was just like what happened with Karna. The speed bump before the boss fight.

"Y'know," Vi said, "I wasn't trying to trick you. Steeljack was gonna show you guys the way through, into Tokyo. All we wanted you to do was stick with him and not get yourselves in trouble. 'Course, I wasn't naive enough to think you'd do it. That's why we're sitting here shooting the shit right now, right?"

Chuuya growled. "I don't have time for this. The human garbage you're protecting sold out the whole country. Don't get in the way of what I have to do."

"What part of this is so hard to understand? We don't care what's going on out there, that's why we didn't start shooting at you the moment you set foot in the city. Their problems aren't our problems, and your problems aren't our problems. But, I can tell you don't get it, or maybe you do and you don't care, whatever. So let me put it this way. I'm going to sit in this chair here. And if you make me get out of this chair, for any reason, I'm gonna break your face. Don't make me be that person."

He did not have time for this shit. He should just... start up Corruption. Dazai would be there to pull him out if he tried it, anyway. And if he used it, no matter the risks, he could crush her like a grape. He just had to peel off his gloves. And tuck them in his pockets. And he--

Seized suddenly, slumping against the wall, fresh paint smearing over his suit like blood. Red ichor drained from his nose, blood vessels beating in his neck, ba-DUMP, ba-DUMP, ba-DUMP--

There was an indescribable pain in Chuuya's chest, termites chewing at his heart muscle, travelling through the arteries all the way up and down his arms. Breathe in. Breathe out. What the fuck was that?

...that thing you turned into. It looked like it was killing you.

Unbelievable. Suddenly he'd burned himself out, he couldn't use his strongest attack anymore? He'd wasted it on a midcard fight, with Mori and Yamada and Mishima still squirreled away in complete safety? But what if he--what if he had to...

Something came up the stairs, thundering metal CLUNKs and the sound of labored breath. Behind him. He didn't even have to guess who it was.

"You got here fast," Vi said.

"Had to, borrow a, bicycle." Steeljack huffed and puffed through his words. "Also, might've, broken a, bicycle. Eight, hundred pounds."

"Well, pull yourself together, we're gonna kick this guy's ass in a few seconds. It'll be fun."

God, he had to fight two fucking people like this. And Vi was already getting out of her chair. What did he do? How was he going to play it?

Stop. Focus. Blink.

Vi sprinted for him. Chuuya stepped back, just barely dodging her first swing, swaying out of reach of her follow-up hooks, waiting for the right moment to counter. The right moment didn't come. Cold steel arms wrapped around his torso from behind, kept him from moving, and Vi clapped both her fists down on his cheeks to pop his head like a watermelon.

Chuuya shook the thought out of his mind. That's not gonna work...

Okay, Steeljack's coming in from behind, so he can't get pinned. Chuuya stepped to the side, matador-style, turned so he could keep both of them in his vision at the same time. He clapped with all his strength, sent shockwaves through the air to throw them off-balance. The two of them were heavy enough already, wasn't hard to get them stumbling. Chuuya reached into his pockets, grabbed a handful of bullets, and snapped them off at Vi. Three rounds missed. Two went through her stomach and shoulder. In that half-second he looked away, Steeljack lurched towards him, grabbed Chuuya and folded him in half backwards like a piece of paper.

Shit, that wouldn't work either...

He could see it in her eyes. She was watching, too. Playing out the scenarios in her mind, waiting for him to slip up. Chuuya doubted Steeljack was the kind of guy who could track these thing internally. He'd probably start swinging the moment he caught his breath, or if Chuuya caught up to him. So maybe...

Chuuya feinted a step forward. Vi reacted, but Chuuya didn't move that false step--before his foot landed, he suddenly started to slide backwards, "falling" down the hall in the opposite direction with his gravity control. He just had to do it fast enough to grab onto Steeljack, and from there, 800 pounds of metal meant nothing. He could decrease his weight to that of a plastic party cup.

"Don't move, lady. I'll crush him."

He'd repositioned himself, making Steeljack a shield between him and Vi. Cowardly, sure, but it made her slow to a stop. A full-frontal fight would've been suicidal in his condition, not to mention she had nearly a foot of reach on him. He had to play this like a real crook. Use every advantage he could get.

Vi kept her gauntlets up, shifting her weight, trying to feel out a strategy. Steeljack was bigger than Chuuya, by a lot, but he couldn't fight against him with his gravity so thoroughly reduced. He could barely exert any force on Chuuya. He sure could get in the way, though. Act like a barrier while Chuuya put his arm over Steeljack's shoulder, a couple of bullets clenched between his fingers. He snapped. They fired! It was just like his imagination--she blocked with her gauntleted fists, but one still slipped through to pierce her torso. Unlike in his imagination, that didn't seem to slow her down.

More to the point, she was lunging at him. Did she think she had a way around his shield, or...?

No. Instead, she threw a haymaker squarely into Steeljack's stomach, sending him and Chuuya down the entire length of the hallway and through the back wall. If he wasn't so beaten-down, he wouldn't have made an amateur mistake like that. If he was willing to use a body as a meat shield, why wouldn't these hardened criminals be willing to punch through their allies? In fact, Steeljack might've accepted this as a possibility before it happened. Right now, Chuuya was crumpled over a broken couch, the hole in the wall in front of him. He was in the living area of one of the apartments, a weightless Steeljack was floating on the ceiling, and Vi opened the door like the smashed-open aperture wasn't just a foot away from it.

He tried to get up--

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

--just as Lancelot was bearing down on him.

Fourze had managed to get up on his hands and knees just as the knight had charged him, used his jetpack for an extra burst to get away from the effective range of his sword. Just barely missed him.

I can't believe I dropped the Rocket Switch back there. Dumb! Dumb, stupid, idiot!

He felt for a replacement Switch. C'mon, something good, now!

Smoke, on!

Fourze blasted the knight with a gout of heated, concentrated smoke. Normally, it would've stung his eyes, choked his throat, halted his advance, but the knight didn't even seem to hesitate. He swung again, Fourze just barely parrying with the back of his hand. Perhaps, then...

Stamper, on!

He leaned back for the kick. The Stamper Switch put a device like a hydraulic press on Fourze's leg, something that increased his striking power when he hit with it. That, too, didn't stop Lancelot, but it was able to knock him back a slight amount. Fourze threw out three kicks, each one faster than the eye could follow--a blow to the knee, to the stomach, to the solar plexus--each one able to take an unempowered human out of the fight with one hit--but all it did was stagger the knight. Still, it was something!

Giant Foot, on!

The second leg transformed into a massive boot, and he swung around for a powerful roundhouse kick. It didn't connect with Lancelot, but it didn't have to; the secondary effect of the Stamper Switch had activated. Three spots on the knight's body. Three sigils where his kicks had landed. They acted on a time delay, each one bursting with great force and launching him backwards. Straight into the path of--

A massive projection of solidified force in the shape of a boot, swinging sideways to follow the path of Fourze's kick. The Giant Foot Switch's effect. It crashed into Lancelot like a speeding semi truck and swept him away. Finally, some progress! Fourze thought. His body was aching after Lancelot's ruthless blows. He needed some sign that he was damaging him, that he wasn't losing, something that could turn the tables on him. He needed this.

And yet, when he stomped his foot down again, Lancelot didn't drop to the floor. He swung up and deflected it with his sword.

He parried a giant foot.

"D-damn it!"

Fourze stomped again, this time striking the knight cleanly. He only buckled for a second.

"Just go down already!"

He stomped again. The knight faltered, but he did not yield completely.

"I have to do this! I have to stop Mishima!"

He stomped again, and crushed the ground underneath the knight.

"I have to save the country! I have to be a Kamen Rider! I have to be a hero!"

He stomped again.

"I don't want anybody to get hurt anymore!"

He stomped again.

"I don't want to hurt anyone anymore!"

He stomped again.

"So don't make me into that person!"

He stomped again.

"I just--"

He stomped again.

"Want--"

He stomped--

"--everything-"

--stomped again

"to--"

Again, he--

"STOP!"

Over,

and over,

and over,

and,

the shape of the knight before him folded up like a tin can.

When was it that started to happen? When he started to pulverize him? Because he was all wrapped up in black armor, it was hard to tell the extent of the injuries, just that he was crumpled grotesquely and that blood was oozing from the cracks in the armor.

There was no time to waste. Fourze activated his Medical Switch in mid-stride, racing towards Lancelot.

"Don't die!" A whole case full of medicine appeared on his arm. He reached in, grabbed a vial, took the next step, and the next step--but the knight was so far away, and he got further and further the more he ran towards him, and he was keeping less of his human shape-- "I can help you, as long as you don't die! Just, just let me fix you!"

He reached out to pour the medicine into Lancelot's mouth. And, conversely, Lancelot reached out to put his sword through Fourze's stomach.

It didn't even hurt that bad. He'd heard before that deeper wounds can hurt less than small ones. Not just because of the shock, but because you have less pain receptors deeper inside of you. That, and Kamen Riders could resist damage that would be instantly fatal for a human... that was the only reason he could think about it clinically like that. It was like all feeling had left him. In that instant, the only thing going through his mind was... apathy.

"As if... I would ever.. accept quarter... from you... blackguard!"

He flung Fourze away, sliding off the tip of the blade and landing on the floor belly-down like a penguin. The huge, ungainly model of the solar system was spinning above him, each planet suspended precariously. Before him, the wretched shape staggered forward.

"Now--back--to Hell."

Lancelot threw his sword with the last of his strength, high into the air. Fourze couldn't see where it hit. He could only hear it cut through something thick and taut with a weighty SNAP, and then there was nothing else to hear, because the Earth fell down onto his back and crushed him.

Gentaro detransformed.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

See, when Hale said it was time to take things serious, he expected that it meant he'd start winning. Fact is, he wasn't too used to fighting seriously. Anyone as strong as Saxton Hale could win most fights with undisciplined flails of their beefy arms.

• DINOSAUR PHYSIOLOGY (Diego Brando)

Most of Hale's fights didn't involve velociraptors, though. Most.

Animal Man was partially transformed, his head erupting into a maw of draconic teeth, his hands wicked claws (which held swords). It was extremely difficult to wrestle a velociraptor that also had swords, as Hale was discovering. Its scaly, slippery neck was hard to catch, not to mention the strange shape of its stubby arms and its talons raking terrible wounds into him with every step, and even Hale's Australian body was struggling to keep pace. Yeah, he healed faster than normal, but it wasn't enough. Animal Man was augmenting his speed somehow, he was too quick, quicker than his cells could regrow and knit together. And he kept unveiling new and awful surprises.

Saxton pressed down on the small of his back, folding his spine like an accordion, but right when he thought he'd hear the SNAP, he heard nothing but the grunts of his own exertion, and the whap-whap-whap of the black helicopters closing in on the two of them. The local airspace was getting seriously crowded right now.

• JOINT HYPERFLEXIBILITY (Gabimaru the Hollow)

"Is--this--your--backup?!" Saxton asked, each word punctuated by a heavy blow from his fist. "You think you can take me on with an army?! I don't care if the whole world wants me dead, I'll take them all on by myself!"

Saxton smashed him down flat onto his back, knocking the wind out of him. The force was enough to get him to drop the swords in one hand, leaving him vulnerable for just as long as Saxton needed. As long as he needed to sink his teeth right into Animal Man's scaly, velociraptic wrist and tear it away.

An opening! Finally, an opening! Losing his hand was enough to stagger the bastard, so Saxton could wrap his hands around his throat and try to crush his neck. But he kept unveiling new and awful surprises.

• FIREBENDING ("Uncle" Iroh)

He was like George wrestling with the dragon now. Animal Man only had to open his mouth and spray him with a flamethrower ignition, Saxton an inch away from his face. He was lucky enough to close his eyes before the flames hit, but that didn't keep his skin from getting scorched. Instinctively, Saxton put a hand to his own upper lip. His mustache was burned off. His MUSTACHE was BURNED OFF.

THAT'S IT. THAT IS IT. A BLOOD PRICE WILL BE PAID FOR EVERY HAIR FOLLICLE REMOVED FROM SAXTON'S FACE, A PRICE OF A THOUSAND MEN. STARTING RIGHT HERE.

Saxton intensified his attacks. It wasn't that he'd gotten any stronger. His heart was beating faster, for one thing, physically forcing his blood through his body at such an accelerated rate that his veins were starting to burst. His fury was beyond what his own Australian form could handle. Right here and now, Saxton was burning his candle at both ends, using his own life like a nuclear reactor.

That, and he'd stopped bothering to defend. Animal Man tore viciously at his body, trying to rip the flesh from his bones like a starving hyena, trying anything to stop Saxton's beating. Nothing worked. Saxton grabbed him by the collarbone, digging his fingers deep into the skin to wrap his whole hand around it like a horseshoe, and used it as leverage to slam him into the ground. Again, and again, and again.

He braced his feet against the ground, and raised his fist up for one final punch--but Animal Man's arm caught him in mid-strike, and started pushing back.

• SUPERHUMAN STRENGTH (Kyo Kusanagi)
  • (Duke Nukem)
  • (Bane)
  • (Jun Sekibayashi)
  • (Rock Lee)

Even at the very end, he wasn't copying Hale's own physique? That son-of-a-bitch! He'd rather die than surrender! Well, so be it! Hale struggled against Animal Man's dinosaur-claw, his strength suddenly quadrupling, no, quintupling, as if he was drawing on several sources at once, just to prevent him from winning! Saxton Hale would not let him win! He would not let him win! HE WOULD NOT LET HIM WIN!

The arm snapped backwards with a KRACK, and suddenly Hale was pushing with all his strength and no resistance. The two of them flung forward and fell off the roof. They bounced, hitting the front wall of the opposite building, then back again to the other wall, then forward, then back, and the both of them hit the ground and put a ten-foot crater in the dirt.

Saxton had landed on his feet. His knees were buckling, but they never touched the ground. He'd never surrendered. Animal Man was lying in a pile before him, cracked open and raw. By all accounts, he'd won.

Except that he couldn't move, he was exhausted, his body was overclocking just trying to keep his heartbeat stable. His bulletproof skin was torn and weathered, his bones were exposed to the plain air. There were holes in him big enough for a sparrow to fly through. His joints had locked together painfully, to the point that even wiggling his fingers might've been impossible. This wasn't a victory. This was a draw. A draw, handed to him by a hippie, who went against everything he stood for, who shaved the source of Saxton's pride and trussed him like a turkey without ever using his full strength. He didn't need Hale's Australian might to win.

He'd lost. Fair and simple. Animal Man's body and ideals were stronger than his, right to the end.

Hale heard the pop and sputter of a motorbike in the distance, over the din of the encircling helicopters. In a few moments, the helmeted rider appeared, dismounting and standing astride the bike in his long coat and bandages. "Well, don't you look like you've seen better days," Dazai said.

Dazai? Here?? Why??? Hale tried to question him, but his jaw was broken in several places, so he had to ask with his eyes. Dazai answered him.

"I had a feeling you'd get in a mess like this, so I came up with a plan on the fly. Hope you don't mind. First, I'll have to get you over to Fourze--my powers would probably kill you if I touched you now, so I'd have to tie a rope around you and drag you behind the motorcycle. Then, we'll both give Chuuya backup, we all know he'll need it, and then... and then... hmm."

He had clearly lost his train of thought. The black helicopters had landed, wherever they could fit, and about a dozen riot-geared men were filing out of each one. There had to have been more than fifty, and they all had rifles. Normally, it wouldn't have been a problem, but...

Dazai glanced around, at a situation that foretold nothing but impending doom, and winked at Hale. Ah. He'd come up with a plan to get them out of this. Of course. Dazai was some kind of planning genius, a living deus ex machina. He would know what to do.

"As members of the Nakahara terrorist group," Dazai said, both hands raised harmlessly in the air, "We surrender ourselves completely to the Japanese government, and without a fight. I only ask--"

A bullet went through his head, and he hit the dirt.

"What did he say?" The shooter asked. He had a clear, crisp Australian accent.

"I dunno," another said. "I don't know Japanese. Doesn't matter, anyway. All that matters is the priority target."

They hurried to surround Hale, clamping his wrists in comically-sized handcuffs. For such a heavy man, it took little effort to hoist him up and carry him like a hunting trophy.

"Saxton Hale," the first man said, "We're with the Commonwealth Government of Australia. Your time's up, mate."

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

All that effort put into avoiding Vi's strikes, and she'd gotten him anyway. At least that last hit wasn't a clean blow. It'd been filtered through Steeljack. If she punched him full bore in the face, he'd be less than pulp right now. Hell, even that softened punch was enough to loosen his teeth.

She didn't give him any time to collect himself. Vi was on him only as fast as he could dodge, throwing hooks so hard and quick that there was no time to go on offense. Gravity kept him light on his feet. Gravity let him dance away from her punches. He kept looking for an opportunity, but it wasn't getting him anywhere--just like last time, she was stronger than him and there was Steeljack to worry about--

There was a glint of gunmetal from the ceiling. Steeljack fired, and Chuuya reached up instinctively to catch the bullet in his hand. That was just enough to throw him off. When the next punch came out, Chuuya couldn't dodge it. He could only put his other arm up and let the hook hit on his full guard. His full strength was behind it. His full gravitational power was behind it. And he nearly felt both his arms breaking in front of him, right then and there.

Oh, I'm going to die.

He must've relaxed his hold on Steeljack or something, because he plummeted to the floor. The thud shook pictures off of walls and knocked things off of counters. If he'd been a little luckier, it could've broken the floor entirely. Of course, if he'd been a little luckier, he wouldn't be in this mess at all, or getting his lights punched out. He couldn't just speculate about things possibly being different, he had to draft out a real plan. Do something. Do something.

Chuuya's arms felt like jelly, but as he backpedaled he managed to grab something off the floor and throw it towards Vi. He didn't know what until it had left his hand and he saw it clearly--a chair cushion that'd toppled over--but that didn't matter, he'd enhanced its gravity as heavily as he could. Vi didn't have any reason to block a fluffy pillow. She didn't expect it to smack her in the face like a hammer throw.

Now. On the offensive, immediately. Chuuya burst forward while Vi was still flying backwards, the spittle from her mouth frozen in midair in the time it took him to cross the apartment. He heard the click of Steeljack's gun cocking, but this time he was sharper, he knew what he was looking for, he grabbed Vi's arm and repositioned it to block the shot. Then, he pumped his gravity into Vi's gauntlet, suddenly twisting her center of balance until her arm bent backwards and snapped at the elbow. Got her.

That was about the time that Steeljack's fists clapped over Chuuya's head from behind. Solid steel, 800 pounds, viciously hammering at his skull and neck. These fucking Zone guys didn't know when to give up! Vi wasn't giving up either, she didn't even yell or shout about it, she just grit her teeth and swung her knee up like a golf club to break Chuuya's balls. Steeljack managed to get his arms around Chuuya just as he brought his fist across Vi's face. She took a bite straight out of his hand.

"Just... stop... fucking... crowding me!"

Chuuya threw all his energy into shoving forward, striking Vi's solar plexus with his forehead, shifting his gravity to slam the three of them as hard as he could against the wall. Eight hundred pounds of metal, Vi's weighty gauntlets, and everything Chuuya had was enough to break down the outer wall entirely, and natural gravity took care of the rest. Everyone was sent plummeting from the highest floor of the apartment building, to break against the dirt.

Of course, when you're the only one that can stand on a vertical surface like a floor, gravity is a little more negotiable.

He stared down, at Vi and Steeljack as they tumbled through the air. The blood dripped sideways from his wounds, droplets curving in midair to follow gravity's natural course once they left him. It took him a moment to get his heart rate down. Catch his breath. Try and recover some strength.

The maintenance office was just down the hall. He needed everything he had for one last push.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

The door to the makeshift office wrenched open with a single pull. He was not hiding. He could not hide anymore. Before him, at the desk, was the capo of the Port Mafia. Ougai Mori, Chuuya's surrogate father. More or less.

"I had the feeling you would win," he said. His Elise sat on the desk, legs kicking idly over the side. It's not real, Chuuya had to remind himself she wasn't real. Practically a doll. A painting.

"Shut up." Chuuya would've walked over and smacked him if he didn't have to catch his breath. Inhale, exhale. "Just... shut up."

"What is it you wanted out of this meeting? Just to kill us? Surely you aren't here to appeal to a sense of justice that we don't have."

"I'm not an idiot. I know you don't." Chuuya stroked a hand through his hair and realized that he must've lost his hat in the fight. "I just want to know how much of this is your own free will. If this is all because Mishima is pulling your strings with that book."

Mori snorted. Even now, Chuuya felt like a scolded child before him.

"So Kazuya told on us? Clearly, he didn't give you the whole story, if you had to ask such a ridiculous question. You don't even know the extent of his--"

"Answer me."

"Ah, that's the Chuuya I know," he sighed. "A Chuuya can never be anything more than a Chuuya. Told Dazai that one, once. Regardless: the Book can influence people's behavior, yes. I'm sure it's gotten the three of you this far. Furthermore, it's entirely engineered his political support, and the public reaction to you. Nobody, police, civilian, Agency, or otherwise, would spare a second's thought to the idea of your innocence."

Except for Dazai. Did he know about that? Was it deliberate? Did Dazai's powers keep him from being manipulated by the Book? If not... what did that mean? I'll have to ask him.

"The problem with the Book is that it has to tell a proper story," he continued. "Would you understand what I meant if I said it had to follow narrative causality? Probably not... well, if you were watching a romantic comedy, and at the end the man turned into a werewolf and ate the woman, that wouldn't make any sense, yes? Not unless it was possible and consistent within the narrative. The Book cannot create anything that doesn't follow that rule. So he couldn't create anything unless it had a backstory, and he couldn't make anyone take any action they would never do on their own. The Book didn't make either of us act--what's the phrase--out of character. See, Chuuya, it's not so easy to avoid responsibility."

"So you wanted to betray us from the start?!"

Mori shrugged. "I thought you had a right to know, no hard feelings. A mafia has a capo at the helm, and every other member is a gun and a piggy bank. I was compelled into doing it, but for the price he offered me, he certainly didn't need to."

"You son of a--"

Chuuya's arm snapped backwards, the sleeve pinned to the wall by an enormous syringe. Elise must've thrown it when he'd blinked--she had a fist full of them now. Elise's power was creating medical equipment. Mori's power was creating Elise.

"I don't think you'll be taking one more step. Mishima wants you alive, but I never agreed to any such thing. You'll kill him for me, won't you, my darling?"

"Only because I'm being forced to," Elise said, straight-faced. "I'd rather let Chuuya break my neck. Every day is Hell for me."

"I don't think I like this new dark humor from you, Elise-chan."

He'd had enough. Enough of the stupid comedy routine. And the schemes and the smirks and the betrayals. Mori had taken him in, he'd been his leader, his family, for ten years. But that ended today. He couldn't respect or admire him the same way anymore, and all those old memories were blackened knowing what kind of man he was now, and what he'd been even back then. It was time to silence those memories forever. He'd have to end it in one strike.

Chuuya slipped out of his coat and shirt in one fluid motion. There were only six feet between him and the desk, him and Mori. Elise looked surprised. Mori was already pulling a pistol.

In the next fraction of eternity. Two dozen syringes flew through the air. Scalpels, scissors, rubber hammers. Chuuya's thin body weaved between the spaces. Some pierced his skin, and many missed.

The second step. Elise had a bonesaw half his size, she swung it down against him. Chuuya twisted back and let it merely scrape across his chest as he sidestepped. He flung himself forward.

In that instant he spat out his loose tooth. Gravity accelerated a single tiny piece of bone like a railgun shot and went right through her forehead. Chuuya looked away--Only a doll, a painting--

That shook Mori enough that he pulled the trigger before she even hit the ground, it went wide and the second shot was so close to his head that Chuuya couldn't hear anything from the right side anymore, not even ringing. Dead silence. He dove over the desk and grabbed Mori by the throat.

His neck pulsed under his palms. His eyes bulged. The gun slipped from his hand, and in a shaky, awkward motion, it reached up to caress Chuuya's face.

"Chuu...ya..."

That was when his thumb forced its way into Chuuya's eyee socket and twisted. Chuuya shouted his throat raw, pushed Mori to the floor.

The bastard was laughing. "Serves you right, Nakahara! Arahabaki! Go to hell!"

Chuuya grabbed the closest thing to him--it was a chair--he picked up the chair and smashed it over Mori's head, but it didn't stop the soudn of the laughter.

"Demon! Devil! Destruction god!"

Again and again he brought it down, hammering against his skull until the cackling turned to gurgling.

"Fake mafia--Dazai's lapdog--cuckold--drunkard--"

The chair was breaking into splinters in his hands, so Chuuya used his fists. Beating him until he didn't look like his father, or his enemy, or anything anymore.

"Better... he... were... never... bo...r...n..."

A bubble of bloody mucus popped from his nostril, and that was that.

Chuuya had stopped to catch his breath. One hand felt along his body, pulling out any metal tools or needles, and the other went to brush his hair back. He was probably still in shock, and the pain was already intolerable. No doubt, it'd be a thousand times more gruesome in a mere few hours... his broken eye blinked uselessly, he couldn't see or hear anything from his right anymore. He was beat half to death here.

He had to find Fourze.