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Chapter Text

Spider-Man found himself in unfamiliar territory. Sure, the GPS on his phone shows it's Manhattan geographically, but the buildings surrounding him say otherwise. Classically nouveau riche and art deco, more so than how it was when Cap was making the runs. The part that gets him is things are...stacked. As in there's levels to the roads, the railways, the buildings.
Spidey threw a web to the top of a multiplex and pulled himself upward to gain a vantage point. A blimp was sailing the air in the distance. The only time he ever saw one of those was in history books. Spidey scanned his eyes around everything in his immediate vision. Advertisements on billboards dotted the rooftops, showcasing celebrities in bright costumes of a futuristically garish make. Suits of armor that Tony would make if he ever retained a Japanese sensibility. Brand logos adorned them too, the only one Spidey recognizes was Pepsi on the hat of a woman with icy blue eyes and lips.
"I have a feeling I'm not in Kansas anymore," was all Spidey could bring out of his mouth to an audience of none.
His Spider-Sense went off. From afar, he heard the screeching of tires, the high-pitched hum of a motor engine. Off to his right. Wait, from above. His head jerked to the source. From the upper level came a sleek, smooth motorcycle with a sidecar. Spidey cross-referenced his surroundings. On one of the billboards were the same as the driver and passenger.
The motorbike came down with a thud and skidded by Peter. On it were two men in angular suits of armor, sharing similar designs in a few places. Magenta and lime green as the detailings for these two respective mystery men, some parts painted, others tinted fibreglass. The rest was black and white, the black for the under areas and the white on the plate armor to accentuate those brands. S.H. Figuarts and SoftBank on the green one, Calbee and Bandai on the magenta one.
The pink one's helmet retracted, showing a bespectacled yet handsome male face with blonde hair poking through the inseams. "Attention, stranger," he began. "Surrender yourself to us or face the consequences!"
The green one looked at what Spidey assumed was his higher-up with a cocked head. Even thought it doesn't look like it from the featureless helmet, the guy wasn't looking to keep his emotions to himself. "What the hell, Bunny?" He said with a rough, mature voice synthesized by the suit. "Can't you see he's one of us?"
"All the same, Wild Tiger," Bunny said back to him. "If he's not part of Hero TV, then he's an outlaw."
"The heck I ain't!" Spidey interrupted. "I'm buddies with the Fantastic Four and the Avengers! If anything, I'm just out of my comfort zone!"
Bunny stared him down with doubt. "The Fantastic Four and Avengers have been gone for decades. If you're done reminiscing over ghosts, then allow yourself to be turned in."
Typical Parker luck, Spidey thought. Just when you've thought you've seen it all, you're thrown forward to a whole new world like you're Dorothy in a tornado.
"Sorry, boys," The Wall-Crawler said, his legs widening and wrists pointing at his targets. "But I'm the kinda guy that likes to play hard to get."

Chapter Text

TRANSCRIPT: Interview with Macho Man Randy Savage on the Thirteenth of June, 1988
Gene Okerlund: Ladies and gentlemen, I am here with Macho Man Randy Savage, and (beat) it seems that you're awfully, uhh, in a mood right now. Tell me, is this in reference to this mystery guest challenger that's been brewing in the rumor mill?
Randy Savage: (breathing heavily) Oh yeah, lemme tell ya something, Gene, my man. The Macho Man has plenty of tolerance for the future. Things like what to have for dinner, where I'm booked for the next month, what time I'm gonna spend with my wife. But the thought of this "mystery guest challenger" is driving me...up...the wall. Oh yeah, it's making me steam, Gene! You can see the red in my face, DONTCHA, GENE?
Gene Okerlund: (stammering) Yeah, I see it.
Randy Savage: The Macho Man's never steamed before in his life! But here, thinking about what this jabroni's got in store for me or any of my pals in the WWF is doing it for me! I'm steaming like the tea in gramma's tea kettle! AND I'M GONNA POUR IT ALL OUT ON THIS NEW CHALLENGER!
Gene Okerlund: I don't think it's tea you'll be needing, Randy.
Randy Savage: (beat) Say what now?
(Audible crashing sound, followed by the sounds of yells from both Randy and Gene)
Mystery Guest Challenger: OH YEAH!
Randy Savage: Y...YOU GOTTA BE ****ING ME!!
Kool-Aid Man: I assure you, Macho Man Randy Savage, I am not! And watch your language! There are kids present!
Randy Savage: Oh, I don't see no kids around here, jughead! And no kids'll definitely not be present WHEN THE MACHO MAN'S GONNA WIPE THE FLOOR WITH YOU AND YOUR TEENY LIL GLASSY BITS!
Kool-Aid Man: You talk a tough game, Randy! But I assure you, when we're both in the ring, we're both gonna be getting red everywhere! Only difference is yours'll be harder to clean up!
Macho Man Randy Savage: THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN, YOU WINO? YOU SAYING YOU GOT A DEATH WISH?
(Both Randy Savage and Kool-Aid Man devolve into an argument. They start getting in each others' faces. Security promptly breaks them up)
Gene Okerlund: (ahem) Seems you've heard it here, folks! Courtesy of General Foods, ladies and gentlemen, our mystery guest challenger is...THE KOOL-AID MAN! His first opponent, in 2 weeks time...MACHO MAN RANDY SAVAGE!
(Cut to commercial)

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It's been six days now since Captain America was given the order. A foreign cyborg running amok across the world on a quest of bloody vengeance. It was a pure act of global vigilantism, and S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't taking any chances. The man is reported to be extremely dangerous. The kind of person that Cap is used to at this point, both on the battlefield and as an Avenger.
Two days before, he was on the cyborg's trail. A county sheriff in Iowa had an account of a strange man with a bulky, metallic belt with a swirl on it stopping at a diner, ordering a bottle of iced tea before heading east (an eyewitness reported the man spitting out the iced tea before saying something in Japanese. From the tone, it must have been a negative statement regarding his drink.)
Currently, Cap has been shadowing the cyborg, driving down Route 66, both on motorbike. By now, Cap is certain he knows he's being followed. He also noted the cyborg's bike is custom-made, though the engine sounds like that of a Suzuki or Honda. More stylish than Cap's reliable Harley, but that's Japan for you.
Cap kept his speed steady, about fifty miles. But that's when he noticed the cyborg's bike took a fierce U-turn. He came quick and effortless. Cap took the challenge head-on, brandishing his shield. If they were to joust, then he would best be prepared. He floored the pedal hard, matching his enemy's speed.
He didn't account for the next move.
Right after Cap saw the cyborg do the damnedest thing by jumping off his seat, a flash engulfed his eyes. A strange, high-pitched warble, like that of a demented cricket's chittering, echoed for miles. Cap was bedazzled from the sudden auditory and visual explosion, and the best thing he could do was raise his shield to get the flash out. That saved his life for the moment, as he felt a blunt impact reverberate through the shield, connecting to his whole left arm, right up to his shoulder. The shifting in weight caused his Harley to overturn and slide on its right, sparks spraying out onto the asphalt.
Cap was forced off his ride, the weight relieving itself, almost like it jumped off the shield. He still couldn't see a thing, and he was blindly rolling along the road, taking a bad road rash on the way. By the end of it, Cap was in pain, but he's taken worse. Gunshot and stab wounds are a commonality in his life.
His vision cleared out. Before long, kneeling in pain, he saw his opponent. A man completely in costume, but it wasn't anything like the gaudy suits Cap was used to. The helmet bore the red eyes of an insect, accompanied by the twin antenna like that of a grasshopper. A red scarf billowed in the wind, draped around this mystery man's neck. On the chest were pads of dark green in the shape of pectoral muscles on top and a ribcage underneath. The rest was like a jumpsuit; black leather on the arms and legs with standard gloves and boots.
"Who are you?" The mystery man demanded. His voice had a clear Japanese accent with a bassy, dramatic flair. "Why have you been following me?"
Cap got up and recomposed himself. "Before you do anything you'll regret," he spoke calmly. "Tell me your name. I'm not looking for trouble."
The mystery man folded his arms. "Of course, the American isn't aware of larger events," he said gruffly. "I am Kamen Rider, the man bastardized by the underground collective of evil known as SHOCKER!"
He certainly has a flair for the dramatic, Cap thought, more so than Thor. Speaking aloud, Cap said, "I understand your sentiment, Kamen Rider. If you could come with me, we can talk about your situation."
Kamen Rider twitched defensively, raising his right arm up with a clenched fist. Something in Cap's head interpreted that as his special way of saying no. Then he spoke, this time loudly and with a definitive pride to it.
"You'll get nothing from me!" he exclaimed, rushing in with determination. His opponent wished for things to turn out differently. But deep down, both knew that there was a greater enemy in all of this.

Chapter Text

Sing to me, oh muse of man, bring us far away
To realms of gods, so mighty, rule us every day
Play to us, oh great muses, of battles long ago
Between lands, vast and wide, clash for our show
Two great gods, wielding skies, as if 'twere cloth
Shake our heavens, in a fight, flaring with wroth
So come and sit, man and woman, and those in-between
Let our muses, take you away, indulge in tales unseen

Twas another day among the dwellings Mt. Olympus, nothing to be alarmed or heard of. Hermes ran and teased among the residents, Aphrodite toiled about with man and woman alike, Dionysus was busy crafting new and exquisite wines. Again, another day to the gods.
Zeus rested on his satin silk bed in his chambers, nary a thought as his loving wife Hera cuddled and touched him. His mind wandered like a deer in the wildlands. He was content in his living and status as ruler of the heavens.
But thus, a shiver struck him, 'twere the lightning he commands. An outsider! From where? No time to explain. Zeus brushed off his wife and strode toward the outer gates. His vision doth bequeathed him a strange site, one he only foresaw in visions from around the world. This outsider hailed from the Northlands. Zeus could tell from his messy, red locks of hair draped on his shoulders, the stench of what the Norse call ale expanding from his bearded mouth.
The outsider was beside a chariot, gorging on a ginormous goat without preparation. Such barbarism, Zeus thought. With no time to linger, he grabbed a thunderbolt, lobbed it at the outsider.
The thunderbolt went straight into the tip of the outsiders' diminutive hammer, outstretched by his hand, absorbed it 'twere its own energy. Zeus felt anger boiling in him, boiling like savory broth in a stew. The outsider laughed. He laughed, gods damn him! Laughed in front of the ruler of Mt. Olympus! The vainness of such a man, nay, a foreigner!
"Thou art Zeus, correct?" Spake the outsider. "Gods should know better than to interrupt a meal of the mighty Thor." He took another bite of the uncooked red meat, then slapped it down. Thor scoffed, looking at the white-bearded cheat and laughed again, this time coming from his engorged belly. "Zeus, god of thunder! More like god of bastards!"
Said Zeus to his newfound enemy, "you mustn't speak, outsider! Ye of carnivorous, unsightly behavior, get from my presence, from my very realm or die!"
All Thor could do was keep laughing. He took pleasure from ruffling the feathers of such a pretentious being. He stood from his spot. His second goat, drawn his chariot, bleated in an utmost mocking fashion. Thor raised his hammer, pointed it at Zeus. "Gods have little say in matters such as these," he decreed. "Only fate decides who dies."

Chapter Text

DISCO ELYSIUM: THE FINAL CUT - Abandoned tenement, 7:08:49 (2024/04/08)

WORN-OUT JOURNAL - A worn-out journal lies on the end table, the dim light of the lamp highlighting its hastily-scribbled label, "Rorschach's Journal."
YOU - Read its contents.
INLAND EMPIRE - Are you sure? Something tells you that whatever you are about to read is not for the faint of heart. In fact, it should not be read by anyone. The contents may change your perspective on everything you are aware of, what you perceive in the past, present, and future. Surely you would not wish to risk another mental breakdown, no?
YOU - Read anyway.
WORN-OUT JOURNAL - You open the cover and start reading carefully, making sure that you not skip any details. This could matter to the case at hand. Insurmountable evidence could hide in the inscriptions in this journal.
LOGIC [Easy: Success] - The handwriting is erratic, formless. It is clear that whoever this "Rorschach" is is clearly out of his mind.
WORN-OUT JOURNAL - Rorschach's Journal, 3 Hours 27 Minutes Post-Transference: Found empty journal at local bookstore. Decided to take to keep self sane by writing, as how I did pre-transference. 
Place is unusual. Must have been teleported somewhere by bastard Manhattan. Only things on person are spare change, lint, and grapnel gun for self-defense.
City called Revachol by locals. Never heard of any city called that. Buildings look Eastern European. Cars are somewhere between rickshaws and Model T's. Feel alone in new world. Nothing is familiar.
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Trivial: Success] - These names mean nothing to you. Manhattan, Eastern European, Model T; they are the figments of an extremely imaginative figure.
YOU - Continue reading.
WORN-OUT JOURNAL - 7 Hours Post-Transference: Getting cold outside. Not as bad as Arctic, but still concerning. Obviously northern climate. Must find shelter. People staring at face like they have seen ghost.
People are uneasy. Saw protests in local harbor. Only thing interesting in whole place. Possible uprising in works. Don't want to be around when guns start firing. Have to find way to return home.
[Conceptualization - Formidable 13] - Is this Rorschach person from an alternate universe?
CONCEPTUALIZATION [Formidable: Success] - The telltales are as clear as day. These are not just names foreign to this country; they are foreign to this reality. This Rorschach has been sent from his home reality to this one. This should not be conceivably possible, and yet, the truth lies in this very journal.
YOU - Kim, the writer of this journal is from an alternate universe.
KIM KITSURAGI - "That is great to hear, Lieutenant," Kim says with a hint of disbelief in his voice. "But we had best be leaving. Scrounging through journals is not something police officers should do without a warrant."
YOU - I have a strong feeling this would help in our case.
KIM KITSURAGI - "I do not doubt that, Lieutenant. I just think we have pried too much on what is someone else's business."
YOU - Take the journal to use as evidence.
WORN-OUT JOURNAL - You close the book and put it in your pocket. You can read it further whenever you wish.

WORN-OUT JOURNAL - You hold the worn-out journal of the person named Rorschach in your hand.
YOU - Read from where you left off.
WORN-OUT JOURNAL - Rorschach's Journal, 1 Day 6 Hours Post-Transference: Spent most of spare time at bookstore reading about new world history. Names unfamiliar as expected. 
Planet isn't called Earth, called Elysium instead. No concrete evidence of globe shape. Simpletons haven't made it into space yet.
LOGIC [Medium: Success] - Whatever this Earth is, it seems to be more advanced in technological progress than our world. You recall what Joyce has said about the ORG's attempts to study Elysium's geography.
WORN-OUT JOURNAL - Elysium made of smaller landmasses. No continents. No Americas, no Africa, no Eurasia, no Oceania. Called "isolas." Prefer to call islands, even when corrected.
One thing interests me; unknown phenomenon called pale. No succinct definition yet; just exists around islands like blue sky and green grass.
Effects of pale on person is random. Too much of risk to utilize to return home. May find better results if studied further and compartmentalized.
RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - Rorschach is truly speaking as an outsider here. He knows just as much about the pale as even the greatest scientists of our age.
CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Could it be possible that no supernatural phenomena like the pale exists on Earth? But then what could explain the so-called "transference?"
AUTHORITY - Do not let the questions perturb you. Continue reading. The truth will unveil itself eventually.
WORN-OUT JOURNAL - Rorschach's Journal, 1 Day 9 Hours 17 Minutes Post-Transference: Thinking about Earth and what's happening. Must be November 3rd.
LOGIC [Trivial: Success] - At least the calendars have the same conventions.
WORN-OUT JOURNAL - Thinking about rat bastard Veidt. Rat bastard played everyone like fiddles. May continue to play for years to come. Hope New Frontiersman found old journal in mail. Only way of stopping his invisible reign of terror.
Remember last true words before transference. "Never compromise." Words that should've been on tombstone.
RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - "Never compromise." Those words reek of Mazovian binoperception.
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - Mazovian binoperception is the philosophy that there is only good and evil. No moral greys.
RHETORIC - The bourgeois prefer to call it something safer, more palatable for unopened eyes; objectivism.
WORN-OUT JOURNAL - But Manhattan made huge mistake. He spared me. Thought it was enough to send me to alternate reality. Blue piece of shit is stupider than I thought. That can be exploited. Supermen can be exploited. Realized face was grinning on its own.
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Challenging: Success] - No such word "superman" exists in the dictionary. What could that possibly mean?
CONCEPTUALIZATION [Godly: Failure] - This Manhattan, whomever they are, is an alien. No doubt about it. Otherworldly powers. Blue skin. Exotic-sounding name. Alien shit, my dude.

SHIVERS - Stop what you are doing right now. You heard something outside the apartment. Someone is here.
PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] - Shadows are dancing underneath the door. You hear keys jingling.
YOU - (Whispering) Lieutenant, someone's here!
KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant responds silently. He paces to a safer vantage point--to your right--and reaches his hand for his holster.
RORSCHACH - The door opens slowly. This figure enters the room. This tall, unyielding figure with no face. What passes for a face are blots fluidly streaming around. Sometimes they take the shape of eyes and a mouth, only to alter itself into more strange configurations.
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Challenging: Success] - Rorschach tests. A psychiatric test of making mental associations based on abstract act. This fucker thinks he's clever.
RORSCHACH - The voice begins to speak. It's the vocal equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. "Uninvited guests. Have five seconds before beating both into thin paste."
YOU - We're enthusiasts of your work, Rorschach. We love your work.
RORSCHACH - "Have been here less than two days, and I'm already getting admirers. Hurm." The scoff sounds more like gargling water.
"Regardless, what makes you think you have right to burst into my home?"
PERCEPTION [Trivial: Success] - His voice maintains a low baritone. With any other man, they'd have to speak up to be heard. This is just his speaking voice.
YOU - We're your landlords.
RORSCHACH - "Not sure if better than last one."
KIM KITSURAGI - "We are not here to hurt you, sir. If you could remove the mask and let us talk..."
RORSCHACH - The man interrupts, his voice harsher. "DO NOT. TOUCH MY FACE."
DRAMA [Medium: Success] - The man is so deluded that he thinks that his mask is what he considers to be his own when he looks in the mirror. There must be some psychological reason behind it.
DRAMA [Formidable: Success] - He clearly hates looking at his own face. It brings back bad memories.
RORSCHACH - Rorschach looks at the end table near his bed. He notices something is missing.
LOGIC [Trivial: Success] - The journal.
INLAND EMPIRE [Trivial: Success] - You shouldn't have picked up that journal, you idiot. Read through it. You opened up Pandora's box.
RORSCHACH - "Which one of you fucks took my journal?" He spoke angrily. If he weren't wearing a mask, he would've let spittle out.
KIM KITSURAGI - Kim looks at you disdainfully. Out of all the sidetracking you have done on this case, this is by far the one that will get you and him in the most hot water.
YOU - What journal?
RORSCHACH - "DON'T PLAY DUMB, YOU F****T FUCK!"
[Half-Light - Heroic 15] Assert dominance. Show him who's boss.
HALF-LIGHT [Heroic: Failure] - You think this man can boss you around? Think again. Show him what's what.
YOU - You can't tell us what to do!
RORSCHACH - Rorschach has thrown a wild haymaker into your face. Your nose gets flattened, blood spilling out from your nostrils. Your ears ring uncontrollably, the spund of your brain reeling from the blunt trauma.
KIM KITSURAGI - His gun is trained on Rorschach, finger on the trigger.
[Physical Instrument - Challenging 12] Fight back.

Chapter Text

A TAIL OF TWO CATS
By L.J. Anton
Illustrated by MORI Toshimichi

In a high-up mountain, there was a city called Kagutsuchi. In that city, there was a little village of cat people that lived happy lives. These cat people, called the Kakas, were known for wearing baggy hoodies that concealed their faces just enough to show only what's needed to be shown. Among one of the Kakas was the appropriately named Taokaka, a friendly yet scatterbrained girl that loved to eat, or whatever interests her in the moment.
What interested her in this particular moment was another cat person. This one wasn't wearing a hoodie. She found her while wandering outside of the Kaka village for food. Her face was as bright as day, and her hair was as blue as the sky.
That's one strange-looking Kaka, Taokaka thought, staring at her with rapt attention. But then, she noticed something about this cat girl that was most alarming.
"Hey!" Said Taokaka, calling to this unfamiliar catgirl. "You're naked!"
The cat girl rubbed the back of her head with her giant white paws. "Yeah, I get that a lot," she said shyly.
Taokaka paced around the cat girl, still fixated on her. "But...aren't you chilly?" She asked.
"No no, it's fine," the cat girl replied. "I run warmer than humans. The fur helps, too!"
Taokaka's ears twitched, signalling confusion. What this cat girl had for fur was way too minimal. It was more like stripes on nude skin.
Either way, Taokaka decided not to question it. She looks and sounds smarter than her, and she was taught to respect those who were smart.
"I have a feeling I'm not in Kansas anymore," the cat girl continued, now observing her surroundings.
Kansas... That's a fancy new word to Taokaka. She's never heard of a place called Kansas. Maybe she's just moved in to Kagutsuchi.
Suddenly, inspiration! An idea struck Taokaka's empty head! She should do her due diligence and show her around! ... But showing her around the city would be too long and too boring.
Instead, Taokaka offered to introduce herself.
"Hi, Taokaka! I'm Felicia!" The cat girl answered in kind.
Felicia! What a beautiful name! Taokaka felt a spark between the two of them.
Suddenly, she sprang up and beamed at her new friend! "You're pretty cool!" She said enthusiastically. "You wanna play?"
"I'd love to, but I have to figure out a way back home," said Felicia.
"Back to Kansas?" Assumed Taokaka.
Felicia giggled at Taokaka's innocence. "Something along those lines," she said. Then she decided to humor her new friend. "Tell you what; we can play for a little while, and then you can help me find my way back home! Sound good?"
Taokaka wasted no time and jumped right at Felicia. She wasn't going to just play...she was going to play competitively! Taokaka's gonna make this Felicia girl work up a sweat with all the playing they're gonna do.
And so, let the games begin!

Chapter Text

外国の侵略
瀬戸際の我が国
一人が守る
(Foreigners invade)
(Japan on the brink of death)
(One man stands alone)

Heishiro Mitsurugi was surrounded by five men. These strange men in white armor wielding handguns so small, yet so destructive. They spoke English--or some dialect of English he's never heard before--but their voices were crackling, almost unnatural. Their helmets bore the faces of kodama, the kindly forest spirits. But these people are anything but; from their ship that sailed in from the stars, they burned crops, pillaged towns, and murdered countless men, women, and children.
Mitsurugi was going to make sure they pay for their crimes against humanity.
The men in the white armor slowly paced around him. Their guns were primed, ready to unleash hell upon him with one false move. Let them come, the samurai thought to himself, I have sparred with the bearer of the Soul Edge before. They don't scare me.
The nearest soldier to his right was the first target. He dashed in, struck at the weak spots in his armor. The other four retaliated with gunshots that sounded like a dragon's roar. A couple of shots only singed Mitsurugi's armor.
Mitsurugi was faster than the bolts of fire that the soldiers shot out. One by one, he sliced at them. The fools missed every shot. Maybe they shouldn't be firing the hip. Or be wielding such tiny firearms.
By the time Mitsurugi was finished, they were stunned, held in place by the pain that coursed through the soldiers' bodies. He flicked his sword, splattering blood across the ground. The soldiers fell limp to the ground, exhaling their last breaths.
Mitsurugi took a moment to look around himself. That ship was still up in the afternoon sky. Around it were these flying things, looking like a sphere with screen doors attached, unleashing green bolts down on the masses. Whomever was leading the cause, Mitsurugi was sure they will pay for it tenfold. Using such mythological instruments of destruction on the weak only reeks of a man with no honor.
Then, Mitsurugi saw someone unlike the rest. Sure, the pearly-armored men surrounded this new being, but the black armor was indistinguishable, his helmet like a demon's, his cape billowing in the wind. In his hand held something small. Whatever it was, Mitsurugi kept his guard up. But even then, he wasn't ready for the red glow to emerge from that small thing. His gut told him that was some kind of fancy sword.
Mitsurugi was certain that this was the leader of this whole invasion. And now he was going to pay the price. He let out a battle cry as he rushed in, sword raised high.

Chapter Text

二人の勇士
旅人にして英雄
彼らは戦う
(Two mighty fighters)
(One homegrown, one from afar)
(Tonight, one will stand)

It is nighttime at the Genbu Temple. The only source of light is the moon hanging high above. The petals of the cherry blossoms softly descend from their home. On a pathway outside the temple leading to the torii gates, there lies a man. A man that has seen roughly 35 years of combat, of trial, of self-discovery. Even as he has gone through much, these things still test him. New surprises keep him on his toes, keeping him seasoned.
Ryu is expecting someone. An old sparring partner of his. A man who has been on Earth longer than him, and may possibly live on after Ryu's passing. His soul is rugged, unpredictable, animalistic, but deep down, lacking pieces that it once had. They've been forgotten, but new pieces have filled the gaps. New friends, new acquaintances, new reasons to live and fight for what he believes in.
He could hear his motorcycle's engine from miles away in this nighttime silence.
Ryu knows these superhero types; they rend to be fashionably late. But even then, Logan didn't always have the trappings of a clear-cut hero.
The engine's sound drew closer. Ryu got up from his seiza position, dusted himself off. He saw the light from the road along the mountain, twisting and bending before becoming brighter and more apparent.
Logan was in costume. Strange that he was. In times like these, he would be wearing his usual civilian getup; a leather jacket, sleeveless shirt, and jeans. But it didn't matter to Ryu. Whatever kind of clothes people wear wouldn't matter much when it comes to a fight.
The bike came to a stop a couple yards down the pathway. A minute later, Wolverine was standing before Ryu. He saw that he was smoking a Cuban cigar. At the rate he smokes them, it could catch up to his healing factor and do some damage.
"What's the costume for?" Ryu asked in his native tongue.
Wolverine responded in the same language, "had some business with the boys earlier today. Silver Samurai was up to his bullshit. Didn't have time to change into something more comfortable."
"So... Are you ready?" Ryu entered his shotokan stance.
Wolverine took another puff, then put it into a case. Ryu expected no less of him. Logan always held high regards for Japan and everything it beheld, nature included. A cigar would ruin the feng shui of a peaceful Japanese temple by the sea.
The Canadian popped his knuckles and back, a metallic cracking with the air being released in them. Then he crossed his arms together. Instinct flowed through his hands like an animal going into flight or flight.

SNIKT!

Wolverine hunched over, growing significantly smaller. A smaller posture means less a chance of getting hit. He sneered at Ryu. "Got no time to fuck around," he growled. "Let's go, bub."

Chapter Text

The Justice League is down. Goku and Vegeta are off-world. The Z Fighters are ill-prepared. All hope is lost in Metropolis.
Around Goku Black were the smoldering fires of the prospering city, spawning from toppled cars, wrecked buildings, the bodies of the innocent. The body inside him saw it as another step to attaining perfection. By pulling out the weeds by the fistful, getting rid of these mortal worms and self-centered "heroes."
Of course, not all the credit is for him. All he did was help jumpstart an initiative led by the Legion of Doom. They needed a powerhouse; they got one. And now 90% of the Justice League is taken care of. They were fearsome, but ultimately, what did these gods pretending to be men expect when facing a true deity?
Goku Black heard something moving in the rubble. Then he noticed a green light. He wasted no time releasing a ki blast into the man designated as "The Green Lantern." Pitiful, they were. They are no substitute for the Kaioshin or any other higher power.
The Legion of Doom only told Goku Black to incapacitate him, but these Westerners have no sense of efficiency. Besides, where was the fun in that? Better they die lest they come back and try over and over to get in his way. Goku Black spawned a ki blade in his hand as he walked up to the Green Lantern. The dark-skinned man didn't have hair long enough to grasp on to, so he resorted to handling him with his other hand. Getting his fingers dirty like that made something toil in Goku Black's conscience.

FWOOSH!

Goku Black was hit by a punch he hadn't felt from anything else, produced by something faster than he could comprehend. The Legion of Doom warned him about this man. It's that fast, red bastard. As Goku Black hit the ground, the red blur solidified into a human in a red full-body spandex suit. 
It took him a moment for his sense to be recollected. Goku Black rushed in with fervor. Now that he wasn't caught off-guard, he could see the Flash zooming around him, throwing out potshot after potshot like an annoying bug. He had enough; a fierce punch to the gut followed by a rapid series of kicks is what did the Flash in. He wasn't dead yet; Goku Black wanted this one to suffer.
He produced a ki scythe, started moving as fast as he can while the iron was still hot; slice after slice, Goku Black reaped at the Flash. Making this false god bleed brought so much euphoria to him, more than the materialistic pleasures of food or wine.
By the end of it, it was more than the costume that made the Flash red. Cuts all over his body, deep ones. He's lucky that Goku Black hadn't gone for the organs...yet.
But he needn't long for the sweet embrace of death any longer. Goku Black postured to deliver the final blow, but then another FWOOSH, followed by the distorted screeching that sounded like a human saying "No!" real loudly. This time, instead of the yellow lightning bolts, it was red, and the body was the inverse.
"We had a deal, Black!" Reverse-Flash roared at Goku Black, his hand gripped on the forearm that held the scythe. "This one is mine! He always was!"
How boring, thought Goku Black. He slapped Reverse-Flash off of him using the back of his hand. "What kind of people are you, this Legion of Doom?" Goku Black snidely talked down to the evil speedster. "You know nothing of achieving true power. There's no point in these idiotic games you and your enemies play. All your power, and you refuse to kill him. Why?"
Reverse-Flash stared down the traitor. "You don't know the half of it. It's about proving we're better than them. Making them live with the fact their bullshit isn't up to par."
"I fail to see the enjoyment in that." In his head, Zamasu beckoned to just throw caution to the wind and engage on both sides. To hell with this whole struggle with good vs. evil. Gods do not care for such a thing. Besides, the extra bloodshed means nobody would truly be in his way. 
Goku Black raised a hand and sneered. Both Flashes are going to die.

Chapter Text

Diary o' Ben Grimm - 9/12/1981

Just when I thought I'd seen everything there is in the cosmos--the Skrulls, the Kree, the Celestials, the whole stinkin' nine yards--Lady Luck always serves up somethin' new to surprise me.

Distress signal comin' in from the Arctic, says Reed one hot August morning. Says that a UFO was spotted a week and two days prior. Nothin' came of it till a Norwegian station went dark 3 days after. I saw them pictures taken by the neighborin' American station that fell later on. Sweet Aunt Petunia, I spent the next 10 minutes yakkin' up Susie's pancakes.

Reed said that he had things to take care of with Stark and a few other peeps, Johnny's too busy buddyin' up with that Frankie girl, and Sue? Well, she's a mother. Gotta let 'er do 'er job.

So anyway, I took the job, and there I was, takin' a barge to a station on the coast of that big ol' iceberg. Cap'n says to me, "so yer business is huntin' aliens now?" I says to 'im, "Nah, more like Stretch wants another frog to dissect. The guy's love for discovery's gonna be 'is undoin' one day."

Tha funny thing is 'bout trekkin' the Arctic is how much I didn't mind the cold. My rock skin's got plenty of insulation. That, 'n maybe all the hoagies I eat's helpin' my fat keep me all toasty.

The reason' I'm walkin' with only my pants on is cuz the station I was dropped off at was some 20 miles off the east the American outpost that got wrecked. Whatever this thing is, it's itchin' fer a fight. Me? This ain't gonna be some Yancy Street knifefight. This thing's special.

So it's basically midnight fer me now.. My compass is busted, 'n I think I'm gettin' goosebumps under the rocks in this weather. But then, in the whole blasted blizzard, I see a figure! Who the heck's out here at this time o' night?

I got closer. The guy looked all shaken up. He kinda looked like that mook that played Elvis in that one movie. I asked him, "'Ey, ya need a place to stay? I can make an igloo, maybe light up a fire with a match!" Then the darnedest thing happened, and I swear to God above, I felt like I dropped a couple bricks where the sun don't shine. (Don't worry, I didn't actually crap my pants. Ya hear that, Johnny? If yer readin' this, don't start makin' rumors! I'll know!)

The guy lunged at me, but then his flesh started openin' up. All these teeth and bones poked out as the meat was rended apart like how I do sheet metal in a pinch. The blasted thing was tryin' ta swallow me whole! And I thought ta myself, nuts to that! I lodged a big ol' fist inta his guts. The alien wasn't phased from that, so I kicked 'im off me as an equalizer.

After that was all a blur. All I know is that me and that thing from another world...we got busy.

Chapter Text

The scene starts with the X-Men being teleported onto a ship, currently afloat at daytime. The team is Cyclops, Wolverine, Jean Grey, Iceman, Gambit, Beast, Storm, Colossus, Nightcrawler, and Cable
Cyclops: takes a look around the place. Everywhere he looks, there's ocean This the right place, Cable?
Cable: Should be. Kang's coordinates were reported to be on Earth-5867.
Beast: What a fascinating sight... It could make one sing "yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum."
Gambit: This dudn't look like the kinda place Kang'd run off to. Might as well look somewhere else.
Cyclops: Jean, take a scan of the area. Storm, you're our eyes in the air.
Storm: Understood. Storm takes flight and swoops about, scanning the surrounding area
Iceman: Hmm... Awful lot of blue. Be a shame if a guy can just freeze it all up.
Colossus: Would that really be the best way of alerting the crew to our presence?
Iceman: It's just so we can ask questions.
Cyclops: Best to reconsider, Iceman. I don't think we need a Titanic situation here.
Wolverine: That your best attempt at dark comedy, Scott?
then the helmsman of the ship peeks his head out from above the quarter deck
Jinbe: What in the...? STRAW HATS! INTRUDERS!
Wolverine: SNIKT! Dammit all...
Cyclops: Wolverine, hold it. to Jinbe Hang on! We didn't mean to intrude!
Luffy bursts in from the captain's quarters
Luffy: What's this about intruders?! LEMME AT 'EM
Jean Grey: Cyclops, someone's coming from the hatch...
Iceman: I'll hold 'em off! uses his ice powers to freeze the hatch
Luffy: The Ice-Ice Fruit! You work for the marines?
Wolverine: Army, more like.
Cyclops: We're not with any military body, sir! Now please, give us a moment to explain! And Iceman, thaw the hatch!
voices from underneath the hatch are heard under the X-Men's feet
Nightcrawler: Die Sache gerät außer Kontrolle... draws his swords Cable, be ready.
Cable: pumps his laser gun They won't see us coming.
Nightcrawler: Not like zat!
Cable: I know what I said.
Nightcrawler: Zis is not ze time for violence!
Iceman: Outta the way, guys! Just following orders! starts thawing the ice around the hatch until they hear a loud, boisterous cry from underneath

FRANKYYYYY RADICAL BEEEEEEAM!

a laser beam erupts from the hatch, sending Iceman hurtling into the sky, then later dropping into the sea
Franky: HAH~! Man overboard!
Zoro: draws his swords and jumps out. He begins tussling with Wolverine and Nightcrawler, blades hitting and clashing
Nami: What the hell is going on?!
Sanji: Not sure, but that redhead in spandex is really doin' it for me! Ooh la la~❤️
Jean Grey: Creep! I'm married!
Cable: keeps his guns aimed at the rest of the Straw Hats Make a single move and you're all dust.
Franky: Hey, that's some SUPER heat you're packin'! Who made 'em?
Cable: None of your damn business.
Franky: And you, chrome guy! Where do I get cybernetics like those?
Colossus: It is not cybernetics. It is my power.
Robin: Never heard of a Devil Fruit that gives you metal skin. Strange...
Brook: jumps up onto the hatch with his ukelele in hand Ladies, gentlemen! Why must we fight? We must celebrate this meeting of the mind with some tunes! Song #1! 🎵 Why can't we be friends? Why can't we be frie-- Wolverine collides with Brook
Zoro: What happened to your shortstack fella is what I'm gonna do to you if you don't surrender, demon boy.
Nightcrawler: I am no demon, samurai. I am homo superior!
Zoro: . . . Homo superior? Is that a club?
Nightcrawler: Nein, it is... Wait. You have no mutants on zis Earth?
Zoro: No?
Robin: Whatever the hell a mutant is, we don't appreciate you guys trashing our ship all the same.
Chopper: Robin, all of these people do not seem to possess any mutations. From my understanding, they're human as can be! Except for the blue one.
Nightcrawler: As usual, I'm ze odd one out... 😓
Luffy: ENOUGH! powers up to Gear 2nd I don't know who you are, or what you want. But the moment people cause trouble on my ship is when I need to butt heads!
Beast: Please, good sir! There is no need to do any of this. All this is one big misunderstanding. What say we settle over a nice cup of tea and tell each other what our purposes are in life?
Wolverine: Hank, I don't think that numbskull's gonna listen. See that? Literally fuming mad.
Cyclops: sigh I really wanted to avoid this... To me, my X-Men!

Chapter Text

It was a lovely night out in Japan. The moon shone down as a compliment to the countless street lights and neon signs of the Kanto region. An all too familiar sight for Morrigan Aensland. Her succubus nature naturally attracted her to nightlife like moths to a flame. She glided her way above the streets, mentally reaching out to the dreams of virgins and cute boys so she can fill up for the moment. But the problem was, there was something nagging at her. Among the bustling crowds, the car horns, the blaring of music from stores and eateries, she heard something brisk, light on their feet, trailing her.
Morrigan took a quick look behind her. The energy signature was very familiar to her; a vampiress. Morrigan's had experience fighting vampires, but this one was even greater. Rather than being demonic in nature like that daft bastard Demitri, this one seemed to resonate with that of the True Ancestors. Elementals. Yes, now it's coming back to her. It's one of the Brunestuds.
"Nice night for a walk," Arcueid started as she dropped down on the roof of an apartment complex. "Or, in your case, a flight." Arcueid had on her usual garment; nylon stockings, designer boots, a blue short skirt, and plain white sweater with a cheeky rosary.
"Aye, seems so," Said Morrigan. She conjured up some bats to allow her to recline in midair. She crossed her legs, too. Arcueid had thoughts brewing inside her. The residents of the Makai were adjacent to the Dead Apostles. Ergo, enemies of the True Ancestors. Arcueid was wondering what Morrigan was doing here. Was she here to corrupt the youths of this fine town? Spread chaos? Those seemed right up her alley. And Arcueid isn't going to have any of it.
"Oi, what're ye gettin' worked up over, lass?" Morrigan purred at her. "I can sense yer anger. Not a good thing t' keep it all bottled up. Maybe we can rent a love hotel and--"
"You think it's easy to win me over?" said Arcueid, her dulcet tone underlying snark. "First off, I don't swing that way. Second, I know your game, succubus. An ally of the Apostles is an enemy of mine."
"You mean those daft bastards?" Morrigan said out of confusion. "They aren't true vampires. Trust me, I know a few of 'em. Yer gettin' yer wires crossed, babe." She made a twirling gesture to her temple with her tongue sticking out.
Underneath, Arcueid was itching to get this lady to know her place. A Brunestud has no tolerance for people like Morrigan. But at the same time, she can smell her blood. It's tantalizing to a fault. Arcueid's primal urges tell her to lash out and taste her before completely brutalizing her. From what the tomes in Castle Brunestud says, Morrigan is the daughter of the great demon lord Belial. Even a fraction of his power within her is enough to make every human kneel before her.
So maybe she doesn't have to hold back against Morrigan. As the succubus kept teasing her, she hunched downwards, a smile curling on her face. Before she knew it, she already let instinct take over.

Chapter Text

〒458-0817
Aichi, Nagoya-shi, Midori-ku, Moro No Ki 2-1-4
Ms. Inko Midoriya

Hey, mom! This is my first letter to you after transferring to Avengers Academy. I'm loving it here! All the students are so welcoming towards me. They think my quirk is cool, though I really don't think otherwise. Training sessions are murder for me, given how it works. 
All in all, I'm reminded of UA High, but it's got so much more diversity here. I'm making friends with a Korean guy that's got Juggernaut's powers, and that's strange to me because the first Juggernaut is still active. I'm not bothered too much by it, but still...
One cool thing is that campus changes every time you leave because of science nonsense I didn't really get. One time I left for a bite to eat, I was in outer space! But I didn't want that, so next time I was back in New York.
Let me tell you, mom; New York is awesome! It feels so liberating being able to fight villains without fear of getting my hero license revoked. According to the brochure, New York's a mecca for superhero activity, so there's not really laws regarding Hero Association rigamorol.
But that leads to the best part; I was out fighting the Rhino, this giant man in a rhinoceros costume. I hit him with a solid Smash to the head, knocking him out cold! And that's where Spider-Man came in, wrapping Rhino up in webbing and cracking jokes to the people!
It wasn't the original Spider-Man, though. It was the new one in red-and-black. I was still ecstatic, though! He shook my hand and congratulated me for a job well done! I still get shivers thinking about it!
I nearly fumbled the ball when I started speaking English to him. He noticed my accent and spoke to me in surprisingly good Japanese. I asked how he spoke it so well, and he said, "my friends and I watch a ton of anime. You tend to pick things up the more you watch it." Americans really do have a funny obsession with the stuff we watch...
I asked if we could test out our skills later that night, so before curfew, I went to Central Park. We fought a whole bunch, and Spidey didn't let up. Well, neither did I! I'm the protege of All Might! I've got plenty of skills up my sleeve!
We fought until just about an hour before curfew, and Spidey treated me with authentic New York pizza for being such a good challenge. I never knew pizza could taste so good!
All in all, my first week at Avengers Academy has been nothing short of stellar! I can't wait to see more of it!
I'll be sending letters to my classmates talking about it. I fear for my fingers. They're already cramping...

Thanks for reading this, mom!
~ Izuku

Chapter Text

Excerpt from Terry Burns, found in wreckage of Manhattan apartment

Excerpt dated 23/05/2047

I don't know how long it's been since the aliens arrived. I want to say 16 days, but hiding in this building makes it feel like it's been longer. I still hear the explosions. The gunshots. That sound, the ear-piercing "DRIIIIIIIING" when the aliens fire their death rays. 
The aliens... Those things with their bulbous metal armor, descending from above like angels coming to pass judgment on all of us sinners. Nobody knows where they came from. They just came down. That long stock on them, like an eye. It sees everything. I don't know how I lasted so long. I've had to eat rats, for Chrissakes.
I hoped the Sentinels were enough. Those towering beasts with firepower that can put the Commies to shame. The ones that killed the heroes of old. The ones my grandpa told me about, of mutants and marvels. You think those would've been enough? Surely, they could've. A lot of good the Sentinels did in the end.
It just hit me. The world's falling apart, all the old heroes are dead. The aliens... They were waiting for the competition to subside. They saw us as fruit ripe for harvesting. For some kind of sick game, hunting people for sport with that laser beam, and that suction thing... Oh God, Marcia... I still hear her screaming when I try to sleep at night. I was the only one who heard it. Over that one word the aliens kept saying.
"Exterminate." That's all they say. These fucking things have no soul. All they do is kill. 
The Sentinels weren't enough. One of their heads is sitting outside. It keeps staring at me. Like it was saying to me, "you thought we were bad? You would've preferred us in the end." It's like a rock and a hard place. All you can do is suffer until the killing blow.
One of the aliens is out there. It's looking at the Sentinel head. Now it's looking around. Oh God... I've never been a religious man, but God, oh God, what did we do to deserve this? It's been downhill since before my dad was born. We could've had so much better.
I think it's looki

Chapter Text

The mission briefing came in less than 30 minutes ago, lit up on the supercomputer nestled in the Great Lakes Avengers' base in Milwaukee. Some sort of terrorist has been singlehandedly sabotaging bottling plants in Mexico. The identity is unknown, but according to the primitive black-and-white CCTV footage, it's some kind of metahuman wearing what looks like a morphsuit utilizing enhanced strength and speed to manhandle and demolish the machinery of each plant. The man has a kind of vendetta against the owner of these plants, which is Coca-Cola FEMSA. Strange as the circumstances may be, the GLA aren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth with this mission. After all, how can you do that when justice is blind?

Taking their main method of transport--a 2005 Nissan Murano whose oil still needs to get changed--down to Mexico, the team smelled opportunity in the air. What is more American than Coca-Cola itself besides apple pie and Big Macs? This could be the perfect way of showing the Great Lakes Avengers were a force to be reckoned with, not a bunch of rejects that were just dumped onto the Midwest where literally nothing happens. The big break they were looking for was finally here.

Passing the border and singing whatever Mexican tune they can before just turning on the radio (Mr. Immortal was confused why the Macarena song wasn't playing), Flatman got in touch with the local police force and headed Guadalajara where one of the few untouched bottling plants were. The pattern this terrorist was taking started in Tijuana and kept going down Southeast. Intercepting the man here was strategically optimal.

Problem is, in the sweltering August heat, it was hell just standing outside of the plant waiting. Sure, there were thousands of fresh bottles, but the issue was that it was all meant for distribution elsewhere, not in the plants themselves. Plus, they aren't refrigerated, so nuts to getting that ice-cold refreshing taste in the weather.

"Yeah, I know," Squirrel Girl said to her ever-faithful pal Tippy-Toe, currently perched on her left shoulder. "It's a crying shame we gotta bring our own drink." She held up her Thermos and rotated it a little, listening to the ice cubes clattering and water swishing like a wind chime trapped in a tsunami.

A ping went off on her phone. Checking it, she saw a message from Doorman in the group chat. It said, "any sign yet?" The team replied promptly.
Mr. Immortal: nothing here
Big Bertha: I saw a tumbleweed. Does that count?
Flatman: netting
Flatman: *noting
Flatman: *NOTHING
Flatman: Stupid flat figners
Squirrel Girl couldn't help but chuckle at Flatman's shortcoming. Not everyone is blessed with the same powers as Thor or Captain Marvel. But she always believed in making lemonade out of what you've got and using them for good.

Tippy-Toe squeaked frantically, pointing at something on the horizon. Squirrel Girl looked up from her phone and spotted something in the distance. Dust is billowing up enough that it could be mistaken for very beige clouds. She's seen this kind of thing with speedsters on TV. She quickly texts to the others about it and to rendezvous at her spot. She's beaten Galactus and Thanos and Doctor Doom, but she does like to have her close friends participate, even if she can completely solo the opposition.
She sent a distress signal to all the squirrels she can get in touch with. She's conversational in Spanish, so it didn't take much to get the point across. Squirrel Girl assumed a defensive stance, legs spread out and arms chambered. Whatever this threat is, she's going to catch them off-guard. Thirty thousand gray squirrels have been amassed from her to Durango. Decent numbers for swarming.
The cloud trail grew ever so near, and she could make out the target beyond the haze. It is indeed a morphsuit of some kind. No face, though. Just a silver dome for a head with the silver extending to the right arm, and the chest has blue over the legs, the chest, and the left arm. She can barely make out the symbol on the chest, though. Some kind of circle.
By the time she figured out the person, this mystery man has stopped dead in its tracks to face Squirrel Girl. Looking without any eyes towards her, a hole opened where its mouth should be as it made a peculiar "pshwaa" noise. A can of Pepsi materialized in Squirrel Girl's hand without warning. Then she noticed the symbol on the chest. It all came together.
"Thanks," she said, "but I've already got my own drink." That made this Pepsi Man sulk a bit, but Squirrel Girl quickly reassured him it's fine. "Listen," she continued. "I just want to talk about this. Y'know, maybe destroying Coca-Cola plants isn't a very consumer-friendly thing to do? I mean, there's anti-competitor laws and all that. Plus, you're destroying property, so that's...y'know, illegal. So can you do me a solid and stop, please? Pretty please?" Squirrel Girl put on her best deer-eye face to emphasize the request.
Pepsiman didn't even acknowledge that and just suddenly went back to sprinting towards the plant. Dust was kicked in Squirrel Girl's eyes and mouth, blinding her and leaving a very icky taste on her tongue. Recovering from her initial stun, she realized what she must do. Breaking into a run on all fours, she gave chase. This isn't the most noble fight she's ever been in--and frankly, she's more of a Pepsi girl herself--But she isn't going to let her biases obstruct the hammer of justice from finding its target and bringing it down on the wicked. At least she'll do her best to go easy on him.

Chapter Text

Kaos watched his many plots unfurl across the Skylands from his high castle, watching through his Portal and observing his minions pillage and plunder every realm they could trespass upon...only for them to get promptly trounced by the Skylanders. The cravens, those colorful compatriots of Eon just making a mess of things. Everywhere he sends his armies of trolls and drow, they keep getting met by the Skylanders and their indomitable might. Kaos has seen the same images over and over, his servants getting bested by such idiotic heroes. Don't they know that Kaos has dreams and aspirations of his own? Everyone has those, from the tiniest of gnats to the most omnipotent of gods. So what if Kaos wants to take over everything with Darkness? If people like Eon were as virtuous as they say they are, they'd just turn the other cheek and let bygones be bygones. But no, they have to put on such a ridiculous façade and try and stop Kaos.
In a burst of rage, Kaos screamed out into the deepest halls of his castle. "WHY MUST THAT BLATHERING BOOB RUIN EVERYTHING? HIM AND HIS PUTRID SKYLANDERS!" He retched at his whole circumstance, feeling the darkest depths of his soul swelter up in pure malice. "MUST THIS DAY GET ANY WORSE?"

Milliseconds after saying that, he felt the air change in a manner unbecoming of, well, air. It turned into wind, turned into surges of energy whipping around him. It didn't take a novice wizard to figure out it was a portal opening up.
"Me and my big, fat mouth," Kaos muttered to himself. He called upon his elements of magic to prepare for the intrusion. What entered from the maelstrom was an odd-looking fellow. A rotund, stocky build with a body that's made of the cosmos, a head crowned by a macabre death's-head helmet, a dark, tattered cape guided by the energy flowing from the portal, and in his claw-like appendage wielded a staff of magic. Kaos assumed that was what this being used to open his way here uninvited. From there, this figure announced himself.

"Greetings from beyond the multiverse! I am Lord Vortech, and this universe has been chosen to be annexed under my domain! Should you peacefully accept this force of action, your life will be spared!"
Kaos wound up puzzled by this figure. It sounds a tad ironic coming from him, but this Lord Vortech feels very...artificial, so to speak. No, that isn't quite the right word. It's something else. "You look like a toy doll, dear Vortech person." Kaos said.
Vortech jolted his head some in disgust, leaned back a bit. "Excuse you?" Vortech spat back at Kaos. "What ever gave you that idea? Just because me and others born from the realm of Leggodt, you assume I am but a plaything? I am beyond such qualms! I have scoured countless dimensions, fought various threats, all to claim dominion over all of reality!"
Something rang familiar in Kaos' head. Maybe this toy man is mood kindred. "What kind of threats?" He asked.
"Oh, you wish to know?" Vortech decided to humor him. "Masked adventurers, wizards, Master Builders, time travelers, test subjects, middle-class families, teenagers, paleontologists, catmen, witches, ninjas, ghosts, ghostbusters, gamers, secret agents, freelance mercenaries, cartoon animals, aliens, children, policemen, elementals, cavemen, boy adventurers, ace pilots, supervillains, giant monsters, pirates, ogres, and monsters!" Lord Vortech took a moment to catch his breath after that tenuous exposition.
Kaos' thoughts proved correct. His magic died down and his face beamed. "OH MY GOODNESS!" He blurted without a moment's notice. "DID WE JUST BECOME BEST FRIENDS?"
"I believe we have," said Vortech. "How about we conquer this reality together in good spirits?"
Kaos initially accepted the offer. "YES!" Then he realized what the figurine had actually said. "Wait. NEVER!" His magics manifested once again, his face scrunched up in anger. "ALL OF REALITY IS MINE! *MINE, I SAY!* AND I WILL NOT HAVE SNIVELING IDIOTS CLAIM WHAT I SEEK!"
Vortech Let out a sigh and began channeling power into his staff. "Alas," he said, "you were my only friend."

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 8: CANOPY KINGDOM
# ACT 1: LIGHTS...CAMERA...SHOWTIME!

Another day, another adventure for the fun-loving Hat Kid! Departing from her spaceship high above the clouds, our hero made her way to an unfamiliar land. Upon arriving, she took a moment to observe her surroundings. It feels like Mafia Town to her, but it's not quite right. Many people of all different types can be seen walking around. Guys in suits doing guy-in-suity things, beast people lurking in alleyways playing funny dice games with money, and scrublords shouting bad words at each other while playing arcade fighting games.
Hat Kid took a moment to look at her map. True to what it said the last time she looked at it, she ended up in Canopy Kingdom, specifically in the city of New Meridian. Looking up from the map, Hat Kid eyed the scenery once more to get a lay of the land while walking. The grown-ups are quite particular in their own ways, but she can't deal with that right now. She has to find her Time Pieces and recover them to give her spaceship the fuel it needs.

She heard a voice overhead. A dramatic one, with all the "hup's" and "hyah's" of a cool, handsome actor! Or a cool, cute actress in this case, judging by the voice. She saw the source of it, and it's a girl in a yellow raincoat and hat, swinging a giant umbrella around like a sword, pantomiming some kind of dashing cavalier.
"A-ha! I have you by the ropes, knave!" The girl shouted triumphantly at her imaginary bad guy. "Surrender your gains or be brought to justice!"
A grown-up was walking beside her. Okay, not really a grown-up, she doesn't really have any ugly wrinkles on her. Maybe she's her big sister? Anyway, this sorta-grown-up was really pretty-looking, with long red hair, a sleek black dress, and holding up an umbrella to protect herself from something even though it isn't raining. She said, "I knew you'd like that movie, Umbrella."
"Yeah, it was super cool!" Umbrella beamed at her. "Even better that you didn't bring those weird Egret guys!"
Hat Kid looked at these and felt a connection between them. Is this little girl like me? Is she just like me for real? And that sorta-grown-up. Is she what other people call a "big sister?"
Hat Kid let her heart take the wheel and dashed straight for the sisters. She unfurled her parasol from her super deep pocket and immediately clashed umbrellas with her in a one-handed swordbrella salute, letting out the most triumphant of calls with "ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE!"
Umbrella squee'd equally as loud and responded with "See, big sis? She gets it!"
"Oh, I'm not denying that," big sis said to her lil sis. "Seems you've got a new friend. Go ahead and play with her, all right? I'll be back in 15 minutes. I've got a call to make."
Umbrella turned up at her big sis with a pouty look. "But I want you to watch us play," she whined.
The big sis took a moment to consider it, then she said, "all right, but don't hurt each other too badly, okay?"
"YES!" Umbrella squealed delightfully, and then the duel was on. Hat Kid is going to use all her tricks in the book to win the day, and she'll make a new friend in the process. Maybe she can introduce her to Bow Kid at some point. But as she dashed forward and Umbrella did the same, Hat Kid started to question why there were eyes on her foe's umbrella...

Chapter Text

It was dark in the underground. Really dark. Maybe even too dark for Kyoko Sakura. Still, she and Mami were given a mission by Kyuubey to find the lost child and eliminate any monster that stood in their way. So far, the monsters have been entirely harmless, and even though Kyoko was initially hard-pressed to bring them down, she couldn't help but pity them and ultimately just decided to avoid them. Mami was thankfully more merciful the first time around. That's my girl, Kyoko thought as she ruminated on that moment, seeing the big frog-like creature highlighted in Mami's crosshairs before she lowered the gun. However, Mami split up for a better chance at finding the child, and Kyoko felt alone, but not helpless.
Not only was it dark, but it was really damp. Her clothes were starting to get that way too, and she couldn't stand the weird feeling of feeling it stick to her body. The sooner she gets out of this cave, the better. Kyoko still kept pushing on. Father wouldn't want her to give up on this mission, so she stayed strong and kept going.

Soon enough, she found a light nearby. This was her chance. Breaking into a sprint, Kyoko rushed to the end of the corridor, and she found herself standing in front of a huge aquifer. On top of the damp clothes, her throat was parched, so some rich mineral water would help quench her thirst. Kyoko walked over to a pool, sat down in seiza and began drinking from there using her hands. The water slid down her throat and enriched her entire body. She felt whole again. However, she realized that she let her guard down.
A gruff voice, half-masculine half-feminine, growled out at her. "HALT! WHO GOES THERE?" The voice assaulted Kyoko's ears like loud cymbals clanging at a fast tempo. Kyoko turned to face the source while grabbing her multi-jointed spear, and what faced her was a kind of fishwoman in plate armor and an eyepatch, a glowing blue spear in her hands and pointed at Kyoko. But for a moment, this fishwoman lost her tenseness and dangerous glare. But for what reason?
"Waitasec..." The fishwoman began. Then she roared out again, and Kyoko felt her ears pop, but not from the pressure of the cave. "YEEEEAAAHHHHH! A REAL MAGICAL GIRL! I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO SEE ONE IN REAL LIFE!" And I thought I was a loudmouth, Kyoko thought. But her inner monologue was drowned out over the fishwoman screaming bloody murder out of what she could figure out as pure happiness.
"HEY HEY HEY," she continued. "SHOW ME YOUR SPECIAL TECHNIQUES! LIKE A MOON TIARA BOOMERANG, OR A RAINBOW STORM, OR EVEN..." The fishwoman's voice took on an unexpectedly hushed tone. "...a sexy beam."
The last part made Kyoko sick, and so she rebuked by saying, "What the hell kinda cliché otaku crap is that supposed to be?! I'm not some silly magical girl you'd find on TV! Get outta here with that!"
The fishwoman conceded by making her spear construct dissipate and raised her hands to show she doesn't mean harm. "Hey hey, I didn't mean to offend you!" she spoke. "I know that history books tend to jumble up their info a bit. I just got ahead of myself, y'know, cuz I'm meeting a real magical girl!" Even when she's on defense, her voice is still loud. At least it isn't ear-splitting.
"Fine," Kyoko said, still gripping her own spear tight like a vice. "I won't accept your apology, but I need to know some details. You've heard about a lost child, haven't you?" The words spun around the fishwoman's mind, and she took a moment to process the question. "A human child," added Kyoko.
"Oh, right!" The fishwoman realized. "You mean Frisk! Yeah, they're doing fine. Honestly a really chill kid." A calm waved through Kyoko, relieved that this monster had the right answer. "They've been working as an ambassador for the Underground and the Overworld."
Well, that's a relief, Kyoko thought. But why would Kyuubey give Kyoko and Mami outdated information? Maybe it was just an excuse to exterminate the monsters living here.
The fishwoman then abruptly asked her, "So uhhh... You wanna fight?" Kyoko let the words fly out her mouth without thinking. "Eh, got nothing better to do. Why not?" And then the cymbals started clanging again.
"HECK YES!!!!!! I GET TO FIGHT A LEGIT MAGICAL GIRL! YOU BETTER GET READY, CUZ I AIN'T GONNA HOLD BACK!!!!"

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be another casual day of retro gaming for Neptune, trying to beat her high score on her favorite fast-paced platformer with blast processing. While most gamers would have their hands caked with sweat, she's a cut above the rest and has no problem beating the stuffing out of the rotund egg boss in its giant robot. She's done this song and dance several times, so it's basically muscle memory at this point.
"Big siiiiiiiis!" Neptune heard Nepgear from outside the door. The big sister pressed pause on the gamepad and turned around. "Ya need something?" Neptune responded out of curiosity.
"We've got visitors! And they look real mean!" Her voice carried a fearful warble, befitting of her young demeanor. Neptune got up from her beanbag chair and rushed down the steps of her palace. Meeting Nepgear outside the balcony, she surveyed the grasslands outside of her city. An army ten thousand strong of various strange creatures ranging from normal warriors to zombies and demons and...penguins. Must be their mascot.
"These guys look like a cakewalk! They'll be no match for the protagonist of protagonists!" Neptune boasted proudly like the RPG protag she is as she vaulted over the guardrail. She could hear her little sister crying out for her from above as Neptune tapped into her HDD form, turning into Purple Heart in no time flat. Utilizing her flight capabilities, she boosted right into the fray.

"Wait, stop!" A flowery, angelic voice interrupted Purple Heart, rising from below. A blonde woman emerged from the masses. Whoever leads this army, she must be a negotiator of sorts. "Don't you think we should talk this over? We mustn't resort to violence like this," the woman continued. Down on the surface, Purple Heart heard someone gag.
"What is there to talk about? Your army is about to invade my city, and I'm not going let that stand!" said Purple Heart.
"Please, just hear us out!" The woman begged. Purple Heart couldn't bear to do this, but she decided to allow it. Descending to the meadow, she stood before a diminutive yet menacing person wearing only red jeans and a red scarf. This guy seems to be the commander of this army, and possibly the inferior protagonist of another story. And he's...cowering?
"What's the matter?" Purple Heart asked him. All this man could let out from his stammering mouth was "Big...boobs..."
"Fine..." Purple Heart muttered and returned to Neptune. "So," she continued in her more casual form. "Wanna talk about how royally you're gonna get your butt kicked?"
"Actually, you're the one whose butt is gonna be kicked!" roared the shirtless man. "I am the great Laharl, Overlord of the Netherworld! And this floating land has been chosen to be the first target of invasion in a conquest against the Overworld! Now, we can do this the easy way, or the way that involves getting your butt stomped to the curb!"
"Let's go for the third option," Neptune smirked as she summoned up Excalibur and drew it. "But when I turn into Purple Heart, you'd better not chicken out."
"I make no promises... But you shall stand ready for the great Laharl and his mighty power!" said Laharl as he drew an axe. The two of them dashed towards each other, marking either the easy repelling of a demon incursion, or the end of the Gamindustri as we know it...

Chapter Text

夕暮れの街
少年と狐の少女
鋼鉄の衝突

(Dusk in the city)
(A boy and a fox spirit)
(Blades will clash tonight)

Nighttime has always emphasized the colors of the bustling New Eridu. The city that never sleeps, so they say. Chihiro wasn't in need of that, however. His search for the Enchanted Blades has kept him up well past the threshold of any normal man. But not only has he been running into trouble from yakuza that were responsible for killing his father, but also the people associated with H.A.N.D. A statement was never given to Chihiro, but he assumed that it was because of the magical properties that Enten beheld. They must have confused it with the Hollows and their destructive tendencies. Chihiro just wanted to shout in their faces that they were the product of men using sorcery, but he knew they wouldn't listen, the damned government that they were. They'd sooner get rid of everything that didn't make sense to them rather than rationalize the things that actually did.
Maybe, Chihiro thought, that's why that Thiren girl's been tracking him all this time. Tracking him for the past hour and 45 minutes. She's nothing if not resilient. It must be the keen fox senses in her blood.
Chihiro turned did an about face to find the Thiren. He knew he was being followed, so he might as well fess up and just face her.

A razor-like gust snapped across the area, and it would've taken Chihiro's head off if he was a lesser man. Before the cut came to him, he raised Enten and unsheathed it by 4 centimeters to check the slice. Successfully diverted, evident by the blue energy of ethereal fire brushing past him, separated like waves hitting a pier. The cut echoed behind him, cutting mailboxes, signs, and lamp posts all around. They all crashed down with varying allotments of groaning metal and sparking electricity.
Chihiro resheathed Enten and assumed an iaijutsu stance, crouched down with the scabbard to his hip and his hand just off of the handle of his sword. Assuming the same form was the Thiren in front of him, 10 meters in front of him. He's heard stories about the latest in the Hoshimi family, the finest Void Hunters in New Eridu. Miyabi has proved to be a wunderkind in fighting with their heirloom, the katana Tailless. Chihiro could relate in that sense. Iaijutsu, powerful swords that run in the family. It's a shame he's being hunted. In another life, they would've been good allies. But he sees the icy killer instinct in her eyes, and so the time for talk has passed. On this cloudy night, under the black sky, a duel would be decided among two swordmasters.