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Chapter Text

The air reeked of moisture and rot as a man with greasy black hair looked at the writing he had placed on the most black stone across from his bed. The world was still and silent, as if afraid to awaken his ambition. He adjusted his green t-shirt, a madness in his eyes.

“The show must go on,” he sneered. He ran his finger over the inscriptions. He began to laugh aloud, alone in that cell at the end of the hall in the basement of a prison. Footsteps echoed down the stone hall of the almost medieval dungeon. “I’ve solved it! The perfect show!”

Madly he began to slam on the bars. A guard slammed on them, swatting his hand away with a horrid clang. “Keep it down you psychopath!”

“Oh,” he shook his head, spinning joyfully on his heel. “No. Everyone will hear this when I’m done. I want to use my phone call.” Sadistic glee in his eye he declared, “This will be our best season yet…”

A show pitch arrived on the desk of the owner of the network. The fat CEO, exuding an aura of greed in his opulent office at his oversized desk, sneered. “By god. It’s perfect, but I have to ask, why a show? With this power you could do a lot more.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” The prisoner demanded. “You didn’t pay my bail for this power. You paid for the best show in history. One everyone. EVERYONE. Will see.” He learned across the massive desk. “Imagine the ratings!”

The CEO thought for a second, his girth, a mountain of greasy fat as ugly as his soul, and nodded. “I’ll get it set up for you by next week… Mr. McLean.”

Far away, a woman took a deep breath and brushed the hair away from her eyes as she sat in a small news studio for the local news station. The lights seemed to glare at her, judging her, no. Judging whoever was responsible for what she was about to describe.

“Good evening,” she forced the words out as the cameraman signaled her. “Our top story tonight: The murder of an infant girl who died in her own home. One year old Riley West was found dead today…”

“You OK?” A voice inquired of her. She opened her eyes to see a boy older than her by a few years, with hair messy and black as night. His eyes were a dark color as well, and his attire, makeshift military garb of a red shirt and a metal shoulder pad, didn’t lessen his menacing stature. Not that he was particularly tall or muscular, his build was lean but fit. However, she knew if he held malice, she was outmatched.

The girl saw him smile, his smile genuine and soft, with a smugness hidden behind the kindness. She took his hand as he offered it to her, rising to her feet. She took a look at her surroundings. Tall trees, leaves full and green, towered over her. The branches swayed in the warm breeze. The shade rendered the area cool, but Summer was clearly in the air.

She had long brown hair, slightly curled and now dissimilar in coloration than the forest floor. Her skin was fair, and she was adorned in simple attire, a black t-shirt with a white hockey mask in the center. Above and below the mask in the center was the sentence, “Purify the filth.” She wore a pair of rugged blue jeans, as she tried to look for any distinguishing features of the forest with her emerald green eyes. She couldn’t see anything, but she could hear the distant sound of water, indicating some body of water was nearby.

“What’s your name?” The boy asked. He extended his hand to the girl, who took it and rose to her feet. She realized how much taller he was. She was kinda short for her age, only four foot six, while he appeared older and taller. Still only a boy, but closer to adulthood himself.

“Riley West,” she replied. “You?”

“Friends call me Jet,” he replied with a nod. He began to look around, slinging a sheathed sword over his shoulder. “You know where we are?”

“Not a clue,” Riley shook her head. “You?”

Jet have a sigh and looked down. “I don’t understand.” He muttered, “Last I remember I was at Lake Laogai…”

“What’s that?” Riley inquired, confused.

Hey collected himself, rubbing his eyes before returning to his confident smile. “Oh don’t worry, just… if I may ask what’s your last memory?”

“Oh it’s-“ Riley began to answer, but she froze. Her last memory. Her most recent memory. Her only memory. She tried to recall something. Anything. Not even something recent just anything at all.

But there was nothing there.

“I don’t remember…” Riley realized. “Anything.”

“So you don’t know what your shirt means?” Jet inquired. “I assume if it’s on your clothes it’s important to you.”

Riley lokked down at her shirt and examined it. It was a menacing outfit. Something about the design exuded aggression and hatred for the world. She couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever the mask represented was someone deeply bitter and angry, but she didn’t have a clue who it was. She scratched the back of her head and tried to think, still finding nothing. “I mean I guess so? But I can’t recall it.”

“Well,” Jet began to look around. “We don’t know where we are or if anyone near here is dangerous or not. Stay close and stay quiet. It’s safe to assume we were brought here against our will. This reeks of the fire nation.”

“The what?” Riley inquired.

“The fire nation?” Jet repeated, staring at Riley in confused bewilderment. “You know, the warmongering nation of firebenders?”

“Firebenders?” Riley was completely lost. “What are you talking about?”

“Where are you from?” Jet inquired, trying to gauge the situation. Perhaps she was of the Earth Kingdom? There was no war in Ba-Sing Se after all.

“The United States,” Riley replied.

“That’s…” Jet shook his head. “Not a real place.”

“Nor is the Fire Nation,” Riley retorted.

Hey groaned, “Ok what’s going on here? This doesn’t make any sense!”

There was a rustling in the branches above. Jet leapt between Riley and the noise from above. “Show yourself!” He demanded.

A woman in a black jumpsuit leapt down from the trees, gracefully landing with ease from the fall. She towered over the two, one hand on her holster with a pistol at the ready, the other extended out with an open palm. Her red, curly hair was short as not to obscure her surroundings. “Easy. Easy. I don’t want trouble. I’m just as confused as you two kids.”

“I’m no kid,” Jet snapped, gripping the hand of his blade tight. “Your name. Now.”

“Natalia Romanova,” she replied. She moved her hand away from her gun. “I’m an agent with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“What is S.H.I.E.L.D.?” Riley demanded, stepping forward. Jet grabbed her arm, firmly, but Riley looked back with a wordless nod. Natalia wasn’t looking for trouble, and they needed any information she could get.

“You’re not familiar?” Natalia demanded.

“No both of you are describing things that don’t exist!” Jet demanded.

“It’s clear we’re coming from different places,” Natalia suggested. “Places with different nations and rules. Arguing about what’s real or not would get us nowhere. We need to see if there’s anyone else. You kids stay behind me. OK?”

Jet groaned, insulted at being called a kid, but Riley nodded at him once again. He knew Riley was the youngest, likely no older than thirteen, so he complied and played along. The trio cautiously wandered the forest without a word before finding a clearing full of people on wooden benches in strange attire. In front of them all was a now much cleaner looking middle aged man, who smiled at the trio as they peeked from between the trees.

“And that’s the last of them!” He exclaimed as he beakoned them to approach. Natalia gripped her pistol. Riley tried to scan her surroundings, trying to absorb the mix of mundane and extravagant outfits amongst the crowd. However her attention soon returned to the host of the crowd.

“I’m Chris McLean!” He exclaimed clapping his hands together. “And congratulations to all of you on your second chance!”

A blonde young man in a red and black striped hoodie stood up, confused. “Second chance? What do you mean second chance?”

Chris chuckled, “Calm down Mancer. I’ll explain.”

The young man sat back down, as the crowd returned their attention to Chris. Chris sneered as he inquired, “So… do you all remember dying?”

There was a heavy silence over the crowd now. A wordless answer that unnerved even the normally collected Natalia. Riley however, didn’t. She didn’t recall dying or anything like that, but the silent unease of the crowd told her she had died. They all had died at some point, so she must have too.

“Alright then campers!” Chris clapped his hands to regain everyone’s focus. “That’s why you’re all here! I'm offering you a second chance. You’ll be participating in a series of challenges! And the winner…”

Chris could hardly contain his glee as he declared, “…will be brought back to life. Welcome everyone, to Total Drama - Lazarus!”

Chapter Text

The first to speak up was a man in checked pants with an eyepatch. He was calm and collected, standing off to the side. He inquired to Chris, “So… that’s it? We play your little game and return to life?”

“That’s right!” Chris declared. “You will be split into two teams, and the losing team of each challenge must vote off a member! You will
Split into these teams shortly!”

A baseball player in monochromatic attire down to his very flesh approached Chris, inquiring, “What is that smell? I don’t smell any smoke.”

Chris chuckled, “Oh right you’re from a weird one aren’t you? This world isn’t like yours. Just focus on the challenge.”

“I care not for your games,” the man coldly declared, gripping his black bat. “I must complete my sacred mission and purify my world.”

“Purify?…” Riley muttered under her breath. Why did that sound familiar? The man himself wasn’t familiar to her but the concept of a purifier…

“You OK?” Jet inquired, noticing Riley in deep contemplation.

“I…” Riley shook off the thought and sighed. “Yeah yeah. I’m fine.”

The man in checkered pants stepped forward as well. His tone was firm, “I’m called Daan back where I’m from, and I don’t know what the rules of this place are, but I have multiple issues with this.”

Chris smugly inquired, “And what’s that?”

“You’re involving children in a game for their lives yes?” Daan inquired.

“Hey yeah,” the man in the hoodie stood up. “That’s really fucked up!”

“Would you rather your sister was here Rory?” Chris mocked with a sly grin. “I’m doing them a favor. I bet if Carrie was here you’d be grateful.”

Rory fell silent, unsure what to say. On some level he felt Chris was right. He would give anything to see Carrie again, but this…

“You sick fuck!” A voice exclaimed, a man with short, spiky black hair trudged through the crowd, a blade in his hand to his side. He was adorned in an open blue trench coat with an open white undershirt that revealed his toned torso partway down. “You have no right to play with our lives!”

“But none of you have a life,” Chris reminded. “If not for me, you’d all be dead.”

“Hey,” Walter demanded. “Daan was it? Let’s get this guy.”

Daan thought for a moment, before nodding. “I’ve dealt with worse. We’re leaving Chris. All of us.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Chris’s tone became grim as he glared at the two. Jet went to assist them but Natalia grabbed his shoulder.

“What?” Jet demanded, his blade already drawn, his tone snapping like a growling dog.

“Something’s wrong,” she warned, calmly but firmly. “Just… watch for a second.”

Walter lunged forward, embers sparking magically from his fingertips. “I’ll end it thus!” He declared, firing off magical flames at Chris.

Daan observed Chris’s movements, or rather, attempted to, but by the time the flames collided he was no longer observing Chris at all. Chris was long gone, moving so quickly Daan had been focused on a mere afterimage, or was it merely a decoy, short range teleportation over speed? He couldn’t be sure.

Everyone heard Chris’s voice, a cold chuckle, from above, and looked up to see him sitting in a tree. He continued, “I suggest you all make introductions. The first challenge begins in an hour. Get to know your future teammates, and you two…”

The world went pitch black, as if bending to Chris’s will on a dime. There was a scream, and Riley couldn’t see her own hand in front of her face.

“Don’t try that again,” Chris demanded, grimly. “There’s no rule against killing contestants, for either of us. Next time I won’t be so patient.”

Light returned to the world, leaving Daan and Walter shaken. “He must be a demon!” Walter declared.

“Whatever he is,” Daan nervously lit a cigarette to calm his nerves. “He’s too powerful for us. Brute force won’t work.”

“OK everyone!” A voice from the crowd demanded. It was a slim, almost malnourished man with messy black hair, eyes tired and sunken, and plain attire of a white shirt and black pants. He kept his hands in his pockets. “It would appear there is no easy way out of this situation. We should play along for now until an opportunity arises. As such we should introduce ourselves. I am Detective L, I worked with Japanese law enforcement back home before my demise. What of all of you?”

A young girl in a blue dress stepped forward. Her hair was almost golden and long, but her skin was pale, too pale to just be from lack of sun. Daan noticed this, but didn’t say anything. She smiled and introduced herself, “I’m Maria Robotnick. I lived on the Space Colony Ark.”

Rory spoke up next, avoiding eye contact nervously. “I’m Rory Mancer. I’m a scene kid with a dead sister. That’s about it really.”

Riley wondered if Carrie was this dead sister, but given his unnerved expression and how he was looking at the ground solemnly, it seemed insensitive to push the matter.

Jet stepped forward with a sly grin, and confidently declared, “I’m Jet. I fight against the tyrannical Fire Nation as a rebel for freedom and justice.”

The next to step forward was a man with a cold expression and a deep, rugged voice. Despite his balding head, he had a full, thick black beard. He was missing his left arm, and the wound was only partially healed, implying it was lost recently. He wore a brown poncho and black pants. He introduced himself in his gruff voice, simply, “Brad Armstrong.”

“I’m Natalia Romanova,” Natalia declared. “I am an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., an organization dedicated to protecting the earth. I was part of a team of super humans, The Avengers, who cooperated with S.H.I.E.L.D.. I am also known by the alternative name of Black Widow.”

A young girl in tall black boots with red laces stepped forward. She had a blazer and a tie, the top black and the skirt red. The tie however was white, along with the center part of a connecting ribbon in her hair which was red on one side white in the other. She had a pair of messy long blonde pigtails. She explained, “I’m Junko Enoshima. I’m from an academy called Hope’s Peak that was made to facilitate talent development.”

Black Widow looked over Junko, and something was… off. She knew right away, her instincts well honed via years of her work, that this girl wasn’t who she said she was. L locked eyes with her, and gave a subtle nod. He had noticed it too.

Black Widow thought about what he had said. If he truly was a detective, then he could be a potential ally in this game. She was unaware however, that L did not pride himself on his moral code, only his victory.

A kid in what could best be described as a cowboy attire stepped forward. A revolver in hand, they introduced themself. “I’m Clover. I’m a kid who climbed Mt. Ebbot to find other kids who went missing. I… never made it back out of the Underground.”

A young man in a green jumpsuit with flowing red hair approached. He was toned but lean, and tall as well. He introduced himself, brushing a tuft of red hair sticking out from the front of his head. “I’m Kakyoin. I was hunting the evil vampire lord Dio with my friends the Stardust Crusaders in Egypt.”

A humanoid leopard stepped forward, fit with gray fur. He was proud in his tone, as he declared. “I’m Tai Lung, one of the greatest martial artists from my homeland. Far better than some fat panda.” There was a bitterness in his tone as he trailed off, going under his breath about this alleged panda.

The Batter said nothing, indifferent to the people around him. Walter attempted tk nudge him, “Hoy. Say something.”

“I’m The Batter. I must complete my mission,” he declared coldly. He refused to elaborate. After a moment of awkward silenced everyone simply moved on.

A young man in a brown suit with black gloves and pants and well combed, medium length brown hair stepped forward. He gave a jovial smile as he introduced himself, “I’m Goro Akechi. I, like L, am a detective from Japan. I was investigating the crimes of a group with potentially supernatural abilities known as The Phantom Thieves.”

“A fellow detective?” L inquired. He didn’t think this was a lie per say, but that smile felt too… easy for this situation.

It was fake.

L knew this.

He would have to keep an eye on Akechi…

A man in a white suit, fit and tall with slicked back black hair stepped forward. He declared proudly, “I’m Akira Nishikiyama, but you all can call me Nishiki for short. I… was the head of an important branch of organization.” The hesitation caught the attention of L, Black Widow, and even Akechi. L and Akechi knew well the culture of the Yakuza, being from Japan as well, and suspected Nishiki’s connection to it right away.

Finally Daan declared, “I’m Daan. I was caught in a similar situation known as the Festival of Termina. I am a practitioner of medicine so anyone who requires medical assistance feel free to ask me. I even have some minor supernatural means of treating wounds.”

Daan locked eyes with Maria for a moment. He nodded at her subtly, making sure no one else saw, a silent promise to try to help with whatever illness haunted her. She nodded back, acknowledging this offer.

A figure in a chef’s apron approached, commanding the attention of the contestants with a boisterous yell. “Everyone!” Everyone turned to face him as he introduced himself. “I’m Chef. I work with Chris. I’ll be showing you all to your sleeping arrangements.”

One by one everyone began to follow Chef, him showing each one to their own room in cabins around a central fire pit, a mess hall across from Riley’s cabin which stood at the back of the semicircle they were arranged into.

“Be ready for the first challenge,” Chef declared walking away. “All rooms have locks.”

With that Chef left everyone to wait for what was to come, as he turned the corner he sighed bitterly. He muttered to himself, “Children Chris? Really?… I can’t keep doing this…”

Chapter Text

Riley awoke, having fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, early the next morning, or so it seemed. She awoke not in her room, her bed lost in a sea of black. There was only a void. Just close enough to see and hear, she saw a woman seated at a table. She was just barely an adult with long hair, and tall. Shrouded in shadow, she waved to Riley. “Hey there you are!”

Riley felt a sudden, inexplicable rage. It was beyond words in both its spontaneity and intensity. She began crying suddenly, pointing at the figure and screaming. “What the FUCK is wrong with you? He died! He died BECAUSE OF YOU!”

The woman looked at Riley flabbergasted, “What? No he’s fine. He didn’t die.” The sound of clinking glasses echoed all around Riley as she sighed sadly. “You did, remember?”

Riley snapped awake in a cold sweat; the memory of why she was so angry at that woman and who “he” was eluded her. The way the woman spoke was strange to her. It was as if it was her or him, one or the other. 

Riley rubbed her eyes and groaned before looking out the window to see the sun already rising. She saw Chris walking towards the of the campground with chef. 

Chris always had that same plastered smile regardless of circumstance. A smile of cold glee, as if he was looking past whatever was in front of him to lock eyes with some unseen party.

He took out a small bell and hammer from his pocket and handed them to Chef. Chef lifted them above his head, and gently tapped the bronze bell with the mallet no longer than his pinky.

The echoing ring was deafening. Riley covered her ears as the ringing continued within them.

One by one, the people exited their cabins. One by one they filed out into the yard, Riley not far behind.

However some made a detour. Maria was the last to exit her cabin, her skin pale as a ghost as she staggered behind it, hiding by the forest as she vomited. She groaned, her stomach churning as she leaned against the back of her cabin, trying to collect herself, hide her condition in order to ensure her survival. If she was seen as a weak link then she would be the first to go.

Daan slipped behind his cabin, sneaking through the edge of the woods to greet her. Maria was shaking, sweating profusely as she leaned against the wall of her cabin out of sight, trembling. 

Daan approached her without a word at first, gently reaching for her face, slowly. She stopped his fingers a couple inches from his cheek. Maria realized he was awaiting her consent to treat her. She nodded to him.

Daan applied a brownish-red face paint to her cheeks and forehead, the same shade as dried blood. He explained, “Back in my world, we have various gods who grant their followers power at some sort of cost. These engravings are that of the god Allmer, and will grant you resistance to physical injury. Not a long term solution, but given how your illness is a physical ailment, it’ll buy you time.”

The engraving complete, color slowly returned to Maria face, the feverish chill across her skin faded as she struggled to her feet. She stumbled, Daan catching her. He helped her back up, assuring her, “It'll be OK. You’re likely dehydrated. Go get some water.” 

Maria nodded and went to do so, leaving Daan alone at the edge of the dark woods. A voice echoed from within, “Oh, the perfect prey she is. She won’t survive the games, Daan.”

“Fuck off,” Daan growled at the figure, facing into the darkness with a determined glare. “You and your little master can go to Hell.”

“Rher could offer you so much,” the voice continued, hand covered in purple fur wrapping around Daan’s neck, claws drawn. The cat’s paw tightened as the being spoke. “Just… one little snack Daan. Is one snack too much to ask for your old friend Pocketcat? We were close once. Two peas in a pod.”

“Shut up,” Daan growled, drawing his scalpel and stabbing the clawed hand around his neck. Blood splattered on his shirt as Pocketcat pulled away.

Daan glared into the yellow eyes lingering in the darkness, neither side saying a word, waiting for the other’s will to falter. It was like having a nice to his throat, staring into that man’s, no, that thing’s eyes. Waiting to see if it would pounce or retreat.

Finally, Pocketcat sighed. “You’ll break Daan. You lost Termina for a reason.”

Daan spat at the minion of Rher, who chuckled. “I like when they’re feisty, old friend. I’ll see you later.” 

With that, the figure was gone, and Daan went to join the others, seated on logs around Chris and Chef. Chris maintained his shit eating grin, as if mocking the contestants.

“Alright campers!” Chris declared. “It’s time we went over the rules of the games! There will be a series of trials, during which you will be split into two teams. The losing team will have to vote off one member of their team. Widow, Batter, Rory, Riley, Jet, Daan, Akira, and Goro, you will be on Team Zombie. As for Maria, L, Junko, Clover, Tai Lung, Kakiyoin, Brad and Walter will be Team Spectre.” His hands clasped behind his back, Chris began to walk towards the waters up a hill down a dirt path. Signaled by Chef, the campers followed nervously, a tense anxiety filled the air.

As they walked, L approached Goro Akechi discreetly near the back of the group. He whispered, “Mr. Akechi was it?”

Akechi nodded with that painted on grin, like his mouth was held in place by invisible fish hooks. The joyful tone was subtly forced, a well oiled machine just showing the slightest of cracks. “Yes detective?”

“We appear to be caught in a death game, of cat and mouse,” L explained coldly looking over the other contestants. He noted Widow’s confident stride, Walter’s strong posture and stance, his sword at the ready. L looked at Maria and the engravings on her face. He saw her stumble, only to see Daan flinch to catch her, but stop himself.

Daan knew something about Maria.

“I always saw myself as more of a cat,” Goro admitted.

“Then we are in agreement?” L inquired.

Goro’s tone became harsh, he glares into Chris’s soul. “He is the trash of society. He’s involved children in his twisted death game and he has to be brought to justice. If only that attic trash was here he-“

Goro cut himself off and regained composure. L noted his outburst but didn’t wish to upset a potential ally by prying. “We will formulate a plan shortly,” L assured. “For now, ensure your own survival.”

“Keep up back there!” Chris demanded looked over his shoulder. He gestured for the two to move forward. An unseen force propelled them ahead, like a giant hand shoving pieces on a board. Akechi stumped for a moment but caught himself, while L intentionally fell flat on his face, a calculated move to make him look like he wasn’t a threat. Not worth voting for.

But it didn’t fool Widow. She noticed, for the briefest of moments, his footing was stable. 

L couldn’t be trusted.

She would react accordingly.

Finally the group arrived at the top of a cliff, where Chris turned to the campers and declared to them the objective. “Alright campers! Today’s challenge is very simple!” He pointed towards the water below, rushing waves crashing into white sea foam against the jagged rocks, like knives sticking out from Mother Earth below. The fins of sharks could be seen circling below as Chris declared with glee. “The objective is to jump down and swim to shore. Simple! Whichever team has the least members make it to shore loses.”

“Are you fucking insane?” Jet demanded, marching forward. “These are children! They’ll die!”

“Well it makes for good television,” Chris chuckled shaking his head. “In fact, Jet. You first. You jumping?”

Jet grit his teeth, blade at the ready, but looked back over his shoulder to see Riley, mortified as she looked at the upcoming jump. He made eye contact with Widow, who nodded at him reassuringly, before he turned back to Chris. “Yeah. I’m going.”

Widow looked down tk Riley, placing a firm hand on her shoulder and declaring, “No matter what anyone says, don’t jump.”

Riley nodded back.

Jet marched up to the edge of the cliff, looking down below at the ravenous sharks and rapid waters. He took a few steps back and took a deep breath, thinking about how he had gotten here. He screamed to hype himself up. “I can’t kill you if I’m dead Ozai!”

He leapt as far as he could with a running start, over the jagged rocks and towards the shark infested waters below. A shark leapt from the waters, snapping at him, only to be gif with a smoke bomb from above.

Behind Jet, Widow had followed suite, drawing two pistols and firing at the shark that attacked them before swimming with him towards the shore.

As the two landed on the soggy brown sands, Widow looked back up to the cliff. She rose to her feet, offering a hand to Jet to help him up, who accepted in kind.

“Who’s Ozai?” Widow inquired.

“Fire lord,” Jet explained. “Still don’t get how your world doesn’t have at least someone close to him.”

“Well what was he like?” Widow inquired, curious now.

“A tyrannical monster…” Jet began to explain.

Back up on the cliff, a thick tension filled the air, making it hard to even breath as Chris stood before the remaining contestants, merely maintaining his cold smile.

“Who’s next?” He inquired.

“I’m no fucking pussy,” Akira declared before leaping off the cliff. A shark leapt for him, only for him to knock it out of the air with a mighty blow to the nose. Blood oozed from the wound as the shark retreated into the waters away from the cliffs.

“That’s three for Team Zombie. Anyone else?” Chris inquired.

Akechi stepped back, shaking his head with that plastered grin. “What chance do I, a high schooler, have at surviving such a fall? I’ll pass.” He was downplaying his abilities, of course, but it was that or showing too much of his hand. He was too useful to be voted off so early anyways, so failing in this challenge to maintain his facade as the charming detective prince was the safer option. 

Chris turned to Rory, who looked down at the ground. “Sorry I… I can’t.”

Chris looked at Riley, who glared back and flipped him off. He chuckled shaking his head, “Oh you’re going to be a feisty one aren’t you? You, Batter?”

“I must complete my sacred mission,” Batter nodded. “And that means ensuring my own survival. Anyone who jumps counts right?”

“Anyone,” Chris nodded.

The Batter nodded and suddenly snatched Riley by the shirt collar and sprinted for the cliff. There was a moment of shock before the others rushed to stop him, but he was to fast. 

Riley had gone over the edge with him.

“Dammit!” Walter cried. “I’m going in! Cover me!”

Clover drew their pistol and nodded, only to be grabbed by Rory. “Hey! Kid! Bad idea, wait here.”

“She needs our help let me go!” Clover cried shaking Rory off before rushing ahead. 

Daan cut them off, blocking the way, “Then I’ll go! You stay! Kakyoin! You keep an eye on the kids!”

“I’m more useful down there! You’re a doctor, right, run down to the beach to meet with anyone wounded!” Kakyoin assured. “L! Come on! You’re a law guy you have combat training.”

“Yes but-“ L protested only to be snatched by Walter. 

“Then let’s go!” Walter ordered. “Now! Anyone who can help in any way, jump! Now! Rory! You watch the kids!”

“This is a bad play this is a bad play,” Junko muttered to herself. “Fuck! Fucking fuck!” She drew two loaded pistols, much to L’s confusion. Why did some random high schooler have firearms? The deception of Junko ran deep.

“Well we have to win this game anyways,” Tai Lung declared starting his run towards the cliff.

Rory nodded as Walter, Kakyoin, Junko, Tai Lung, and L leapt into the waters below. 

This left the score tied, and Brad the only viable member of his team to jump. “I’m coming Lisa…” he muttered to himself before popping a round blue object into his mouth and walking off the cliff. No jump or run just, walking.

Riley pushed the Batter away midair, sending him off to the side as she looked down at the water. Her heart with terror as she saw the sharks circle in the water. She took a deep breath and grit her teeth, she was on her own. At least until the others reached her.

She crashed into the water with a splash, sending her under into the frosty waters. She opened her eyes to see a shark open its maw and charge her. She let out a scream beneath the waves, wasting her limited air.

But then she remembered something.

Some advice.

A man’s voice echoed in her head, “You do whatever it takes to win. Your brother was more a wild one. Not you. You’re more of a tactical mind than he was. If you have to defend yourself, escape, don’t destroy. Everyone has a weakness. An old wound, a mental weak point, something. Use it. Your goal is to disable and escape, not to win.”

Riley quickly examined her grey adversary, seeing its gills flare with each breath. She waited for it to lunge, before narrowly dashing out of the way, seeing it look her in the eye as its tooth on the left edge scraped against her skin just enough to draw blood. She reached into its gills and pulled, ripping them out.

The blood from the scratch on her arm oozed into the water, the crimson fluid like a dinner bell to the other sharks who one by one, all turned to face her with gnashing teeth. One lunges, Riley narrowly avoiding its maw, only to feel a sharp pain in her back, teeth digging into her torso. She cried out into the silence of the water that filled her lungs with burning agony.

She was going to die here, fire in her body.

Why did the burning from inside feel so familiar? 

It didn’t matter. This was it. All she could do was close her eyes and-

Air, coughing up water from her lungs as Walter pulled her out and swam to shore. He cried out to Daan who had arrived there, “Medic! Daan! Do something she’s hurt!”

Daan rushed to shore, taking Riley from Walter. She coughed up blood and sea water. Her rings rang and seared with flaming agony.

She could overhear Jet’s voice. “…gonna… kill…”

She couldn’t make out the rest.

“Dammit Jet!” Walter called, dashing away to handle some matter Riley couldn’t see as her vision blurred.

Daan looked around, checking over his shoulder, before nodding to himself. He whispered to Riley, “Never recite the words I’m about to say to you.”

Daan whispered some language Riley couldn’t make out, something evil used for good. An old magic if a malicious loving god.

And…

She felt fine.

The pain stopped.

She rose to her feet as if she had never been wounded at all.

“What was that?” Riley inquired.

“Some old magic that eats at your mind,” Daan explained. “You didn’t hear it did you?”

“Not enough to use it,” Riley assured.

Daan nodded, “Good good. I… I’m gonna go.”

Daan walked away suddenly, drawing Riley’s eyes to the Batter and Jet locked in conflict. Blade clashed with bat, Jet screaming, “I’ll fucking kill you you sociopath!”

“It matters not what you wish to do,” the Batter retorted. “I have the power to complete my mission regardless.”

Widow grabbed Jet, Jet screaming and thrashing, “Let me go! Let me at him!”

“No!” Widow retorted. “Can’t you see he’s holding back? He’ll kill you like swatting a fly!”

“Jet!” Riley called, relief spreading across Jet’s face as he saw her, stlll panting for air. He glared at Batter before shaking loose.

“Fine,” Jet snarled. “But I know who I’m voting off.”

L arrived at shore, watching the scene play out, and said nothing. It was clear as day Batter would be the first to go, the score six to five in his team’s favor.

Funny, as he wouldn’t have jumped if he wasn’t grabbed to help Riley.

In his selfish act to survive, The Batter had damned himself.

“I’m useful to you,” Batter reminded.

“Not enough to be worth the risk,” Widow retorted.

“I couldn’t agree more!” Chris declared emerging from the woods. That same cold smile plastered on his face. Rory looked around, confused. “How did we get here so fast?”

Chris suddenly flared back, “You go. Where I need you to be.” He then returned to his smile and declared. “Alright campers! We will return to camp where votes will be collected anonymously and-“

“No!” Jet declared. “He leaves! Right now!”

“There’s a process to this,” Chris reminded, his grin discreetly growing at the spectacle. 

“Is it even needed?” L inquired. 

Junko saw the opportunity presented, still trying to wring the water out of her hair. “Yeah. I think everyone on his own team wants him gone after that stunt right?”

Chris looked to the contestants and inquired, “Is this true?”

Uneasy glances turned to hesitant nods.

“Alright campers!” Chris declared. “This episode has run long anyways! Batter, you’re out!”

The Batter glared, drawing his bag and pointing it at Chris. “Don’t think just because we share a common ally I will not purify you as well.”

“Oh,” Chris chuckled. “So you know the source of my abilities.”

“Where else could it be from?” Batter demanded.

L and Akechi exchanged a confused look. Junko noticed this and made eye contact with Widow, who glared back, not trusting her, but desperate for even a sketchy ally, acknowledged the odd comment by nodding back. 

His power came from something.

Someone?

Someone the Batter knew.

“Well the show must go on,” Chris declared, pointing a finger gun at Batter. “Say hi to your wife. Bang.”

Batter’s head was reduced to crimson gore as the body tumbled over, dead.

Clover held back a scream as Riley was frozen in shock. Chris chuckled, wiping a small blood splatter on his finger onto his shirt. “Dinner will be in the mess hall shortly. The next trial is in two days. Enjoy your day off.”

Chris was gone in a flash of brilliant light, leaving the rest of the contestants with the corpse, the crimson fluid staining the sands.

There was a tense silence before finally, with a shrug, Junko declared, “No point staying here, right? I’m hungry. Let’s go.” She began to walk towards the mess hall. 

“We should preform an autopsy,” Goro suggested. “See if we can learn anything about Chris’s abilities.”

“I’ll help,” Daan offered. “I’m a doctor.”

“Thank you Daan,” L nodded. He tried to remain cordial, as having the medic on his side couldn’t be anything but useful. Especially given how he seemed to have patched up Riley’s wounds with supernatural speed.

“Keep me posted on what you find,” Widow requested. 

“Yeah me too,” Jet added. “He’s dangerous.”

“Of course,” L nodded.

“We should get the kids to dinner,” Rory reminded.

“He’s right,” Walter added. “They’ll need their strength. We all will.”

The crowd began to disperse save for the three detectives who began to examine the corpse. Daan looked down at the headless body, only for it to grow a new head, that of a woman with a mouth stitched shit.. “Won’t you join me in sulfur, dear?”

Akechi snapped in Daan’s face. “Hey, you alright?”

Daan rubbed his eyes, “Yeah sorry just…”

“You did something supernatural,” L pointed out. “Or something that appeared to be. It takes a toll on the mind, I presume?”

Daan looked away, that was information he had to protect but, if it could win him allies that would protect Maria after he was gone…

He knew he would not win this game, and arrangements would have to be made for after he lost, given what losing now clearly meant. “Favor for a favor,” Daan retorted, a firm glare from his one remaining eye.

“Only fair,” L conceded.

“What do you want?” Goro inquired.

“Protect Maria and the other kids,” Daan ordered.

“Works for me,” L nodded.

“I see no issue with that arrangement,” Goro smiled.

Daan nodded, looking out into the ocean waters, trying to find the words before sighing, “My… abilities stem from the Old Gods of my world. They are not benevolent nor malicious, as they’re to far above us to be any such thing. The healing magics I use stem from the goddess of love, Sylvian. I also know some magics tied to the god Rher, the trickster god of the moon.”

“Is it possible to learn this power?” Goro inquired.

“No,” Daan lied. It was, of course, but the cost for a teen and a strange detective he didn’t trust was too great. “Not here.”

“I see,” L nodded. He noticed Daan unconsciously clutching something in his pocket, a tome in these gods, perhaps? For now it didn’t matter. What mattered is he maintained Daan’s trust. “So what can you tell us about the body?”

Daan began to examine the corpse, primarily where the head had been removed, before shaking his head. “That’s… what?”

“What’s wrong?” Goro demanded.

“It’s like he was decapitated by nothing,” Daan declared. “Like raw force just removed his head from the inside. There’s no cut or entry point from what limited info I can get with the head removed.”

“So any outside armor won’t help us,” Goro declared. “Dammit! Just who is this guy?”

“I don’t know,” Daan sighed. “All I know is we have to survive to find out and stop him.”

“Then let’s do so,” L added. “We must eat. Let’s go.”

The three began to go towards the mess hall, not another word spoken as L went deep into thought.

This was truly a dangerous.

But he would win.

He would win and bring Chris down. 

In his mind his opponent was not the other contestants, but Chris himself. The rest just pieces on a board.

Dinner was quiet, appetites tempered by the death they had seen. Chef looked out at the mess hall and sighed, shaking his head. He felt nauseous. Sure, the old show was cruel, but this…

He brushed this aside, and continued stirring the chicken soup he was preparing. He needed to keep his head down for now, told himself he couldn’t do anything, even if he didn’t know whether that was actually true.

With that everyone retreated to their quarters, a thick unease in the air as they retreated.

Riley locked the door behind her, before screaming, tears streaming down her face. This wasn’t fair. She didn’t even remember who she was! She didn’t ask for any of this!

She took a deep breath to steady herself, still quietly sobbing. She shook her head. That didn’t matter right now. What mattered was staying alive, and for now that meant rest.

She closed her eyes, trying to soothe herself to sleep, at least with no trial tomorrow, there wouldn’t be any deaths, right?…