Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lights flicker onto a dark, empty area. Nothing exists within it, other than the deafening sound of silence. Suddenly, a light flickers and a room is made. With brick walls carrying shelves, holding countless vials and other objects. A screen formed on the furthest wall, static crossing it as two new figures flickered into view like holograms. One a rotund fellow with a red plaid coat and a shotgun replacing one of their legs, the other a taller and much skinnier, wearing a doctor's coat and wielding a robotic arm in place of its original. Once the being’s finally settled into reality, they stretched and tested their bodies, finding them adequate. They turn and face a hidden camera. 

The stage is set, and the show is about to begin.

Wiz: Onyx Coldiron, the Uncoman

Boomstick: William Catzen, the demonic CEO of DreamLand Inc.

Wiz: These two characters w̷̛̬̼͚̯̼͙̖̏̐̾̆̿i̴̘̜͎̠̝̬͆́ḻ̷̛͔̗͖̭̘̘̤̞̗̗̻̤͓͖̞̹̆̐̊̓͐̉̈́̈́̃̓͐͛̄͋͂̌́͠ͅͅļ̶̨̡̨̧̛̼̰̹̰̩̥͖͔̞͎͇̱̥͈̉̄͂́̓̅̈́͊̂͒̓͐̉̈̓̿̈͛̓͘̕͝͠͠ ̴̢̣̱̫̜̮͔̥͙̹̤̬̣̰̯̝̩͇͙͙̇̔̀̐̈́̒̓̌̌́b̷̧̢̭̻̳̭̫͖̙̪͓͎̘̪̜̜̺̭̝͖͈̳͚̓̒̔̐̌e̴̟̪̬̒̔̂̉͊̅͛̾̊͊̑͌̿̿͊̽̾̎̈́̊̅̚̚͝͝ ̵̢̧̛͙̱̟̥̠̼͂̽͌͌̔̍̊̍͛͊̀̎̐̇̄͠ͅt̸̢͙͙̠͛̂̈́̒͊̐̈́͆̏̔͋̄̎̓̚͠ë̶̛̛͇̭͖̫͉́̊̿̾̀̏̀̋̈́͌͛̐̈́̌s̴̢̪̾̕ͅt̵̛̛̺͍̘̥̪̝̜̩͎͙̼̗͔̲̱̖͎͓͎̫̗͂̒̊͋̅͂̂̑̆̈́̿͂͛͒͒̈́͊̐͗̍̀́͜͝ē̸̡̝̞͍̃͆̌̔͐̑́̀̈́̋̊̊̊͊͋̌͆͛̌̾̎̚d̵̛̛͙͖̯͍̍̏̿͆̅̈́̈́͛̃̒͂̿͂̀̊͌

Boomstick: He’s Wiz and I’m Boomstick!

Wiz: And we’ll analyze their weapons, armor and skills to find out who would win, a DEATH BATTLE!

Onyx Coldiron Shifts into gear for DEATH BATTLE!

Wiz: From the very birth of civilization as we know it, Society has been a social construct. Within it, every life serves their purpose. There are those who protect through strength, those nurture the weak, and those who prepare the next generation for their duties.

Boomstick: But then you get the loners, always on the edge of the boundary. Doesn’t matter how they got there, just that they exist supposedly outside of whatever social norms you’d expect.

Wiz: Like one Onyx Coldiron. Even before his mother remarried and he gained a new step-sibling, he always found himself by his lonesome, which he greatly appreciated.

Boomstick: Probably because he’s a massive weeb! No, seriously! He’s the kid you’d see in middle school doing the Naruto run in real life because they think it looks cool.

Wiz: Which, not surprisingly, attracted the wrong kind of attention. Beaten up constantly by bullies, Onyx slowly developed a brawler sort of fighting style, using his environment to his advantage. Anything on the ground he could pick up could be turned into a weapon.

Boomstick: He even developed some sick-ass parkour moves for guys who were just a bit too tough to take down by himself. He even managed to develop his own base in an abandoned building where he messes around with old tech!

Wiz: That was, until one day, the tech spoke back. Onyx, along with his new brother Val, had discovered an Artificial Intelligence from the center of the world, approximately forty thousand meters below the surface. There, they found immediate enemies in the two warring nations who were fighting for that same AI.

Boomstick: But no sweat! Because after some training from the best soldiers one of the nations had, they managed to awaken to their powers as Uncomans!

Wiz: An incredibly rare subtype of human, Uncoman are incredibly powerful. Using what is known as Eldritch Energy, a sort of life-force for Uncoman like Ki, they vastly improve their physical stats to insane degrees, and gain access to their own unique powers.

Boomstick: And Onyx got one hell of a power: Time Shift! With it, he can revert anything back to whatever position they were in at whatever point in time, though it doesn’t happen instantly.

Wiz: A literal reversion in time. He can also imbue Eldritch Energy into nearby objects, like his signature baseball bat to make it much stronger than normal, though he doesn’t have the best control of this power and often ends up just blowing whatever he imbues up.

Boomstick: With their powers, Onyx and Val managed to kick the shit out of a ton of people, including the leader of one of the warring nations so damn hard the shockwave managed to sink the entire Antarctic continent!

Wiz: Based on our (By that I mean u/NotKyotoMyDudes) calculations, that would have had an energy yield of up to 21 petatons of TNT, enough power to blow up several continents at once! And that was just the shockwaves!

Boomstick: Not to mention he’d be as fast as a character named Spargo, who ran from Antartica, before it sank, all the way to Texas, in only five minutes! With a couple more calcs (Also by u/NotKyotoMyDudes), those are speeds reaching mach 129!

Wiz: With skills like these, it’s no wonder that despite his… not so pleasant personality most of the time, he’s accomplished many great things. But some of those personality traits aren’t exactly helping, either.

Boomstick: Like how damn cringe he can be! Seriously, he’s an edgy, nihilistic smart-ass who’s called a loser by his own creator!

Wiz: More importantly, though his years of being bullied aided in giving him remarkable skills, they also led to him being incredibly defensive and fairly judgemental, including Val, the only person who continuously tried to be friends with him.

Boomstick: But there’s easily worse things you can be than an asshole, and so long as people like that decide it’s a good day to cause problems, Onyx is gonna be there to beat them back into the holes they crawled out of.

William Catzen is sponsored by DEATH BATTLE!

Boomstick: Man, the Faustian Bargain needs some serious work. It always feels like the guy making it always gets fucked over out of nowhere, even when they’re trying to help people.

Wiz: That’s the point, Boomstick. Those who offer these deals seldom have good intentions, twisting the wishes of those who take them into living nightmares, just as one demon did for an entire land of Anthropomorphic animals.

Boomstick: You know Cult of the Lamb? That one game about building your own cult? Yeah, basically that. The demon wanted a big ol’ following before he got summoned to the real world. And it went surprisingly well!

Wiz: That was, until the leader of the cult was sacrificed, their deaths meant to allow the demon access to the real world. Yet, time after time, they always failed for one reason or another, as if the universe itself was preventing the act.

Boomstick: But, turns out that the best way to do it was to break someone down mentally so much their death would be the equivalent of an archway in terms of opening a portal. Only problem was that they didn’t exactly have a lot of options.

Wiz: But while the cult searched everywhere, the demon found its perfect candidate: A young farm boy in a christian house. Their name? William Catzen.

Boomstick: And you’d think that, it being the 1920s and all, he’d be way more terrified of an actual demon talking to him. But no! Instead, William was pretty chill with the demon, and the demon was, in return, impressed by William's lack of fear.

Wiz: And so, the two made a deal. With the demon's aide, William quickly began making a name for himself in the market. He could sell anything to anyone, even tricking a young child into taking a few beans for an entire cow!

Boomstick: That was, until the second World War came around. Man, hate it when furries get into those.

Wiz: Forcefully drafted into this conflict, William found himself at the wrong end of a barrel, meeting his end with one single well placed bullet. But this would not be the end of his story, far from it. Meeting with the demon as his life slipped away, he was offered the real deal the demon had been waiting for.

Boomstick: With the offer of a second chance at life and to fix what’s wrong with the world, William took that offer without any hesitation. And so, William began his second life on Earth, now with the goal of aiding the demon in getting him a physical form.

Wiz: Founding the DreamLand Corporation to aid this journey, William has since been around for over a hundred years! And he wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for the aide the demon gave him.

Boomstick: Even without any powers he’s able to compete with actual athletes with almost no training, crazy good hearing, extrasensory perception, genius levels of intellect, and even the ability to manipulate your fears!

Wiz: But should lethal force be required, he also has access to a Pata, a sort of blade gauntlet he can call instantly to his hand, or use his telekinesis and throw around both objects and people upwards to almost 300 pounds!

Boomstick: Hypnosis, dream manipulation, shadow creation, regeneration, teleportation, and so many other powers! He can manipulate and absorb energy, create illusions, paralyze those within a well known demonic symbol, and create strings to puppeteer someone around with ease!

Wiz: More impressively, he is able to do all of this without reciting their incantations, just doing the hand movement. This has let him catch people off-guard even when they were directly behind him.

Boomstick: Holy shit, how much power did this demon give him!?

Wiz: A lot, and that’s not everything either. With a ton of both Angels and Demons alike coming for his head for one reason or another, he’s learned to channel the powers of those he’s slain with divine or demonic origins through his Pata.

Boomstick: Choosing demons, he gets a big boost to his damage output at the cost of a bit of his speed and intelligence, letting him blow up buildings, while angels make him a lot faster, enough so to where he creates afterimages moving at least 200 miles an hour!

Wiz: William also gains access to wide-scale perception manipulation, along with the ability to see the future, all at the cost of reduced strength.

Boomstick: Which is insane! With all these powers, it’s no wonder he’s gotten this far!

Wiz: Of course, there are some limits for these powers. For example, if he wants to access either of his boosts, he needs to use his own energy as a fuel source, limiting how long he can use them in a fight, especially if it’s much harder than anticipated. He only has five minutes for either form before he’s tapped out. 

Boomstick: But fat chance that happens! With so many powers good luck getting an opening to even do that!, and even if you do he can heal up the damage! Especially if he pops one of those boosts, giving him Lobo levels of unkillability, and even without them you’d need to destroy most of his body!

Wiz: So beware, those who wish for him to fail may just be visited within their dreams by none other than the devil himself. And he may offer much worse than temporary power for your silence.

Intermission

Wiz: Alright, the combatants are set and we’ve run the data through all possibilities.

Boomstick: It’s time for a DEATH BATTLE!

Pre-fight

The sun was shining down on a cloudless day, and a warm breeze wafted through the city. Truly, who could be upset with this beautiful day?

That answer came from one young man, who from one glance had an aura of “punk”. Sharp teeth upon fair skin, topped with spiky brown hair. His clothes truly showed off this vibe, a black letterman jacket sporting a pink secondary coloration, a combination that stretched down to both his belt and pants, contrasted by his cream-colored shoes. His undershirt had what seemed to be some metal bands logo on it, and he walked around with a frown on his face

Not only had the arena been completely empty, but now his annoying step-brother had gone missing once they left the damn place! The old guy who offered the deal was probably already stealing their shit back home…

“Hey, I recognize you!”

Onyx turned around, and wasn’t exactly prepared for what he saw. An anthropomorphic cat was what called out to him, his fur black as coal. He wore a black vest of his own, with white sleeves. The rest of his attire was the same color as his vest, save for a strange amulet that dangled from his neck.

“What the…?”

Before Onyx could fully process what he was seeing, the cat approached him surprisingly quickly.

“You were part of the tournament as well, right? Shame the place was empty…”

“Uh, yeah. Whole thing was a damn scam…”

“Not unlikely. I’m fortunate enough to know my belongings are safe. But you…”

The cat quickly darted around Onyx, studying him up and down.

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same from the looks of it. But I know just the solution!”

The cat made his way back to Onyx’s front, sticking out his hand for a deal.

“If you were invited to the tournament, you surely have some level of strength! Come and work for my company, and we’ll guarantee your dreams come true!”

Onyx stared at the stranger, still processing the last minute or so. Not only was he talking to some sort of humanoid cat, but said cat was offering him a job for some company he doesn’t know. Not to mention, the more Onyx looked at his eyes, the more he felt there was something… off, about them.

“Yeah, no. I’m gonna pass on this.”

Onyx turned to leave, until he heard the cat speak once again.

“Then how about a little contest, since we both came here for a fight? Loser has to do whatever the winner asks!”

Onyx stopped and turned half way, thinking about this deal. It was definitely not something he should be doing, but at the same time, he did come here for a fight. His blood was already pumping in preparation, and the feeling of being blue-balled out of one felt nasty to him. Plus, he could make the cat either help with the search or protect his stuff, if they could really do that.

“Alright, kitty…”

Onyx took the cat's hand, accepting the deal.

“You’re on! Names Onyx.”

“Catzen, William Catzen.”

A crowd had begun to form around the two, but they quickly backed off into a sort of ring as the two prepared themselves for combat. Onyx did some light stretches, while William held his amulet and spoke softly into it.

“Let’s see how much further we can get with this one, my friend…”

FIGHT!

Once they were both done with preparations, the fighters ran straight towards each other, their fists colliding where they met. The ground cracked a bit from the impact, but the two only smirked in response to the opposition. Onyx took a few more swings, but found each blow falling short as William nimbly hopped and ducked out of their way. But as he moved out of the way of the fifth, he found his body moving back to its original position against his will. He was rather confused, but didn’t have much time to react as the sixth blow struck him across his face.

Getting knocked back and off his feet, William heard the crowd cheer, in both applause and anger. But William ignored them as he rolled out of the way of a follow up punch from Onyx, quickly getting back up to his feet. As another blow nearly connected, Williams' body sank into the ground, his body darkening even further as he became one with the shadows. Onyx took a step back, unsure of what just happened, only to be kicked in the head by the newly-reformed William, who appeared right behind him.

Onyx, his head now spinning, swung out a few more punches in an attempt to get at least one blow in. William, however, easily saw through these attacks and stayed just out of their range, getting his licks in whenever Onyx seemed open. Yet as he dodged another punch, the same thing as before happened again. His body forced itself back to where it was, and this time he barely had time to put up his guard for the incoming blow, still being sent back quite a bit, but now in a far better position.

“What sort of power…?”

William shook his head. He’d have to figure it out later, when he won this fight. A ball of demonic energy formed in his hand, throwing it and many others out. Onyx, not prepared for this, ducked and dodged them, hearing the crowd scream in fear as they tried to get out of their way.

“Hey, watch it! There’s innocent people around!”

“Relax, they’re fine. Frankly, they shouldn’t be around for this anyways.”

Onyx clicked his tongue, before he found an opening in the crowd, revealing a small sports shop, with a shiny metal bat right in its window. Weaving his way through the projectile storm, he smashed open the window and took his weapon, turning around just in time to witness several more energy balls coming his way. He took in a deep breath, then got into a batters stance. Eldritch Energy slowly flowed into his weapon, and just before the attacks landed, he swatted them all away with a few swings.

William, seeing his attack being dealt with in such a way, forgo the original attack. Instead, a weapon formed around his hand: A golden gauntlet with rubies on their sides, directly connected to a large blade.

Once again, the fighters made a dash at each other, blade and bat sparking against each other. The two attempted to overpower their foe, although it quickly became clear that Onyx had that advantage. Breaking off the engagement, William backed off a bit, parrying the more wild swings of Onyx. As he parried a particularly risky blow, he swung his body around, landing a small cut on his opponent's face.

Now, Onyx was the one backing off, his hand going up to the wound. It stung and bled a bit, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. William smirked, finally having the advantage, only to find himself spinning back around once again. Just what was this power?? William was almost caught up in his thoughts before realizing his predicament. Onyx had leapt into the air behind him, swinging his baseball bat downwards. 

Except, Onyx found himself slowing down, before completely stopping as William turned around. Fortunately for William, Onyx seems to be just light enough for his telekinesis. With a swing of his arm, Onyx was sent flying over and over into the surrounding buildings before William released him, his body now much more damaged.

Forming another ball of energy in his palm, William threw it straight at his likely unconscious foe. The resulting explosion led to a large smoke cloud. William almost felt relief, before his senses kicked in, telling him it wasn’t over yet. He focused them, and saw Onyx… rising? His confusion was answered when he saw Onyx rocket out of the smoke, smashing into another building, and another, and another, before William realized that he was going the exact opposite way he flung the punk around, as if he was going in reverse.

With the final building smashed into, Onyx leaped back down, his injuries mostly gone and still carrying his signature weapon. Fortunately, he had experience with rough landings, so a quick role across the ground minimized the damage from the fall.

William had a good idea on what he was dealing with by now, but how to deal with it was starting to become a problem. Onyx must have made a deal of his own for this power, but who with William had no idea of. Regardless, there was plenty of rubble around to deal with him.

William focused his hands on the fallen rocks from the earlier attack, lifting them up and throwing each one at his opponent, with a few balls of demonic energy thrown into the mix just to be safe.

Onyx was now really starting to wonder just what he was fighting. Telekinesis, energy balls, melting into darkness? And all from one guy too, with who knows how many choices that cat’s got left. Vaulting over the various rocks and dodging the energy balls didn’t exactly help his thought process either, so he instead focused on taking down his opponent, one step and dodged attack at a time.

Again, Onyx made his way through the onslaught of projectiles, before a rather large piece of building threatened to crush him. Before it had the chance, Onyx once again activated Time Shift, the rock being sent right back towards William, who responded by slicing it clean in half and parrying the following bat swing. Except this time, William could feel the energy flowing into the bat. With another clash, he decided to test something. Through his blade, he slowly began draining energy from the weapon, feeling it replenish his own. It felt… odd, unlike anything else he’s absorbed, but it felt good .

Onyx felt himself become a bit weaker, jumping back as his energy stopped being siphoned from him. His caution levels grew much more as he realized what must have happened. His energy somehow got drained through that cats blade, and that posed a pretty big problem for combat.

William, now refreshed with this strange energy, decided it would be about time to end this. If Onyx was stronger, then he’d just need a strength boost to keep up with him. His body darkened once more, this time keeping it’s physical form, and his blade turned red before being summoned away. The energy of the demons, along with this strange energy, flowed through him, and he felt their strength boost his physical stats.

Onyx, not deterred by this new look, once again swung his baseball bat, only for it to be caught barehanded by his foe.

“Aw, crap.”

Onyx was swiftly punched in the face by William, landing a few feet away, before Onyx quickly dashed back into the fight, his bat now in the hands of William. As a result, Onyx instead chose to throw hands, the two turning it into a slugfest as William tossed aside the useless weapon. Each blow sounded with the mighty damage they dealt, William eventually knocking Onyx into the air.

Yet while Onyx slowly received, he found his torso wrapped in string, William holding the threads with one hand that yanked Onyx back while he used the other to pummel his foe, treating him like a paddle ball. With one final blow, William struck his opponent right in the stomach, causing Onyx to cough up blood and be sent flying as the strings snapped apart. A glowing portal opened up behind him, which he fell into as William followed him through.

Through the portal was a barren and maroon land, which Onyx didn’t have much time to take in as he was falling from the sky, looking up at stalactites growing on whatever sort of ceiling this place had, followed by William charging him through the portal. After a brief trading of blows as the two fell through the air, they landed on the ground hard.

Onyx slowly got up, the fight really starting to take its toll on him as he looked around at where he was at. William did the same, his power-up fading away as his higher thought process came back to him.

“Tch, what was I thinking, Hell of all places…”

Onyx turned back to his foe, processing what he just said, before finding himself at the threat of being skewed by Williams blade. Dodging the following attacks as best he could in his weakened state, Onyx eventually caught both of his opponents arms, leading into a nasty headbutt that caused Williams nose to break.

Stumbling back, William began to think. He needed to take Onyx out somehow, but his strength was beginning to fade as well. So, he tapped into one more power of his. His black fur switched colors to a blinding light as wings grew on his back. His Pata, now glowing blue with this divine energy, reappeared on his hand. The angels he slaughtered now flowed through his blood.

Onyx swung out, albeit blinded by the light, only to hit Williams afterimage. Onyx, losing sight of his foe, found more and more cuts decorating his body. He eventually saw William, going faster than the average person's eye could move, running around him with ease. When he next came in for an attack, Onyx managed to block his attacks, getting better at it with each pass.

William eventually stopped, getting more and more concerned as Onyx was still able to keep up with him. So, he took a deep breath, and both combatants entered a white void.

Onyx looked around him, before feeling immense pain surrounding him. It was so intense he couldn’t help but double over in pain. He heard voices, hundreds of them he recognized, belittling him. The whole world was against him, and he had no one to rely on.

William could feel his time running out for this, so he opted to finish this as quickly as possible. With one final dash, William raised his blade, and stabbed Onyx…

Who had caught the blade in his hand, Time Shift reverting the space around him to before William had taken over. William began draining Onyx’s energy once again, feeling his strength renew. Except, it didn’t stop. More and more energy flowed into his blade as Onyx grabbed the gauntlet, leaving William no chase to escape as the Eldritch Energy became too much to absorb, and with a loud SNAP , his gauntlet exploded into a shower of energy, what he absorbed quickly leaking out of the wound.

William tried the comprehend what just happened as his Angel form faded away, before Onyx tackled him, Time Shift activating a final time to send both the combatants flying into the air at crazy speeds. William struggled to get out of Onyx’s grip, but his efforts were futile as they continued to careen towards the ceiling. Thinking fast, William opened up another portal back to the streets to prevent them from smashing into the stalactites.

Both combatants, now back onto the streets before, and smashing into the ground as they fell back down, slowly got back up, their breaths heavy and their wounds painful. Williams' healing had been slowed considerably, his arm only just now repairing itself into a usable state, and Onyx had taken a thorough beating the whole time.

Onyx spotted his weapon from earlier, Time Shift causing it to fly through the air to before it was tossed aside, Onyx catching it as he ran towards William once again, Eldritch Energy once again flowing through it. The bat scraped against the ground, sparks flying as Onyx picked up speed more and more.

William held out his hands, focusing whatever energy he had left into trying to stop the incoming threat. But as his energy drained more and more, he found himself reciting it’s incantation, trying to draw out whatever power he had left in him, before he stopped mid sentence. His body froze up, and for a second, he thought he was caught in that ability again. But he quickly realized that he had just hit his limit, a moment before the swing connected.

“Go back to hell!”

Onyx put just about everything he had into the following blow, connecting with Williams mid-section and lifting him off the ground. More and more energy flowed from him and into William, before, with a final explosion of viscera, the upper half of William's body was destroyed, his lower-half landing several feet away.

Onyx breathed. In, and out. In, and out. He fell back, the now destroyed baseball bat clattering to the ground beside him. Laying on his back, he looked back up to the summer sky. Yep, joining this stupid tournament was a mistake…

KO!

Boomstick: You know, I think that has got to be one of the more violent ways to play ball.

Wiz: Finding a victor here was no easy task. William had a ton of powers to draw from, some of which could have netted him just the win he needed, but we’ve reasoned that Onyx takes this victory more times than not.

Boomstick: To start with, Onyx had a MASSIVE state advantage. Not only was he significantly stronger, capable of sinking continents, but he was also nearly 500 times faster than William.

Wiz: Not even his extra forms would have been enough to close this massive gap, which he could only access for a few minutes at most throughout the fight. However, his wider range of powers did help quite a bit.

Boomstick: Yeah, like paralyzing him with a bit of set-up, or hypnotize him to sleep and terrorize him in his dreams. He’s also WAY more experienced as well, considering he was more than five times as old as Onyx.

Wiz: However, most of these abilities would actually have to catch Onyx first, which would be difficult with that massive of a speed gap. And not only was Time Shift more powerful, Onyx could use it as much as he wanted without much worry, something William has never dealt with, nor did he have the ability to.

Boomstick: There was, however, a couple ways he could potentially win. His Angel form could mess with Onyx’s mind and make him question reality, while his ability to absorb energy would let him refuel himself with Onyx’s Eldritch Energy.

Wiz: Two deadly powers, only countered by their nature. William always prefers to use his Angel form as a last-ditch move, as it drains his energy very quickly. In other words, it likely wouldn’t even last a full minute given Onyx’s much greater stats leaving William with a lost less energy to draw from in order to power it.

Boomstick: And Eldritch Energy has been show to destroy stuff if too much is applied. Just look at that baseball bat he usually carries around with him! It’s not a stretch that Onyx could likely overload Williams Pata with so much energy it just blows up right then and there.

Wiz: William was a terrifying foe, more than a century old and equipped with a ton of dangerous powers. But Onyx had the stats, the counters, and the ability to take him out for good.

Boomstick: William may have been the one giving out dreams, but it was Onyx who finally put him to rest.

Wiz: The winner is Onyx Coldiron.

Chapter Text

You know what? It was a good day, Chaos thought. He rarely ever realized it, but on peaceful days like these, taking a stroll through the forest as he’s left alone for one of the few times in his afterlife, he really couldn’t help but feel a sort of peace he hasn’t had in a long time. The bright sun, the lazy clouds, the various chirps and chitters of creatures that scurried about around him, they all provided such a wonderful moment in time to feel peace. Only problem for him was that, since Hope was busy with stuff and out of town, he hadn’t really talked to anyone recently. His mind was pretty empty, not a lot to think about, which was a strange sort of feeling,

Well, more accurately, he hadn’t talked to anyone he actually knew recently. There was that weird guy a couple weeks ago, or at least he assumed it was a guy. He had appeared behind Chaos in his workshop while he was working on a few things, and since Chaos didn’t sense anything from him, he never even bothered turning around. They sounded old, though, and talked about some sort of tournament and invitation. They mentioned some kinda “prize”, which was implied to be something crazy valuable, but Chaos wasn’t exactly looking for any fights at the moment. He just got his body into fighting condition, and wasn’t looking to ruin it soon.

“It’ll be great fun, a nice, peaceful tournament. Think it over.”

That was when Chaos noticed them: The black wisps of deceit hovering into view. Something about that sentence was a lie, but when Chaos turned around, they had seemingly vanished, a sealed envelope in their presumed place. Chaos had tossed it into a trash can the first chance he had, but now, as he walked around with nothing to do, he couldn’t help but think about it. The guy was clearly lying about something, but he didn’t know what. Likely, they meant the fun part. Probably just some attempt to kidnap a bunch of strong fighters for slavery…

Chaos’s thoughts took him further and further, trying to analyze all the possibilities of that strange interaction, before he heard a familiar clicking and chirping through torn vocal cords.

Turning around, two other corpses were running up to him, clearly in a panic. They stumbled over each other and tripped more than once, but they eventually made it to him, talking over each other so much and so fast Chaos had no idea what they were talking about. After he managed to calm them down, they were able to actually able to explain what was going on. And they were right to be so scared.

“EDGAR IS BACK!?” was responded with furious nodding, Chaos quickly losing that peaceful feeling.

As they explained, the various runes that Chaos, along with several others, had placed around the world had gone off, each one connected to the other so Chaos would never be caught off guard if Edgar crawled his way out of hell again. What’s worse, it was showing up that he was only a hundred or so miles from the forest. Miles away from it, but still way too close for Chaos’s comfort.

After getting the vague location, Chaos immediately began his chase. If Edgar was back, every second he was on this Earth was a second he was getting closer and closer to his plan, the complete stasis of all life. But why so close??? Edgar wasn’t one for revenge, he’s not petty in the slightest, and if he was much further he’d have way more time than at most an hour like now. Just what the hell was he thinking!?

Eventually, Chaos reached the edge of the forest, right at a cliffside that went straight down. He scanned the desert plain beyond it, looking for anything that would give him a hint of what’s going on. And there, at the very edge of his vision, was some sort of structure, too far to determine its purpose. That’s where he would find him, find that bastard Edgar, and put him back into the dirt again.

As Chaos leapt to the ground, the words of that man rang through his head once again.

“It’ll be great fun, a nice, peaceful tournament. Think it over.”

Chapter Text

Wiz: Living Flesh, A.K.A., Project KRASNY-13

Boomstick: Pedro, A.K.A., the US government's biggest pain in the ass

Wiz: These two characters w̷̛̬̼͚̯̼͙̖̏̐̾̆̿i̴̘̜͎̠̝̬͆́ḻ̷̛͔̗͖̭̘̘̤̞̗̗̻̤͓͖̞̹̆̐̊̓͐̉̈́̈́̃̓͐͛̄͋͂̌́͠ͅͅļ̶̨̡̨̧̛̼̰̹̰̩̥͖͔̞͎͇̱̥͈̉̄͂́̓̅̈́͊̂͒̓͐̉̈̓̿̈͛̓͘̕͝͠͠ ̴̢̣̱̫̜̮͔̥͙̹̤̬̣̰̯̝̩͇͙͙̇̔̀̐̈́̒̓̌̌́b̷̧̢̭̻̳̭̫͖̙̪͓͎̘̪̜̜̺̭̝͖͈̳͚̓̒̔̐̌e̴̟̪̬̒̔̂̉͊̅͛̾̊͊̑͌̿̿͊̽̾̎̈́̊̅̚̚͝͝ ̵̢̧̛͙̱̟̥̠̼͂̽͌͌̔̍̊̍͛͊̀̎̐̇̄͠ͅt̸̢͙͙̠͛̂̈́̒͊̐̈́͆̏̔͋̄̎̓̚͠ë̶̛̛͇̭͖̫͉́̊̿̾̀̏̀̋̈́͌͛̐̈́̌s̴̢̪̾̕ͅt̵̛̛̺͍̘̥̪̝̜̩͎͙̼̗͔̲̱̖͎͓͎̫̗͂̒̊͋̅͂̂̑̆̈́̿͂͛͒͒̈́͊̐͗̍̀́͜͝ē̸̡̝̞͍̃͆̌̔͐̑́̀̈́̋̊̊̊͊͋̌͆͛̌̾̎̚d̵̛̛͙͖̯͍̍̏̿͆̅̈́̈́͛̃̒͂̿͂̀̊͌

Boomstick: He’s Wiz and I’m Boomstick!

Wiz: And we’ll analyze their weapons, armor and skills to find out who would win, a DEATH BATTLE!

Living Flesh grows beyond DEATH BATTLE!

Wiz: The year was 1953, eight years after the second world war. Countless soldiers shed blood for their country, and many more innocent lives lost everything in it. And as the dead rested in their graves, the Soviet Union sought to create a new weapon: One that could spare its citizens from the horrors of war.

Boomstick: It could mimic any human it saw, consume flesh without a mouth, and even repair itself so long as some part of it existed. But, because these types of experiments are ALWAYS a bad idea *Cough* Wiz *Cough*, it went horribly wrong horribly fast.

Wiz: Not only did the flesh begin to grow more than anticipated, but it began to think. Feel. Live. And once it got its first taste of human flesh, it gained a ceaseless hunger that could never be satiated. And all it took was seventeen years before the testing site collapsed, and Project KRASNY-13 escaped. But to those who met it, it was merely the Living Flesh.

Boomstick: It managed to devour an entire platoon of soldiers before a local hero managed to defeat it and seal it away in a capsule. But, because nothing is ever that easy, this only started a cycle of sorts. Living Flesh would always escape its confinement, consume hundreds, and be sealed away again.

Wiz: And catching this thing is no joke. It can do everything its original creators intended and more, perfectly replicating people and their voices, regenerate damage instantly, and consume organic material in order to further its own mutations.

Boomstick: These mutations are some serious business too! From growing out bones as projectile weapons to creating fleshy spawn to do its dirty work, they can even replicate the powers of whatever they absorb perfectly, so long as they consume all of the original powers owner.

Wiz: Going back to their flesh minions, they can take a variety of forms for all sorts of situations. Bursters act as suicide bombers, Leeches can fly around at fast speeds, Bonesaws specialize in tearing flesh, and many others all come together to make a truly deadly army each time Living Flesh is released.

Boomstick: These soldiers ain’t messing around, since even the most basic ones can shatter metal doors with ease. And Living Flesh themselves were able to keep up with both lasers and actual lightning, survive attacks that could level entire cities, and even tank being blasted into space and into the moon itself!

Wiz: Which became a serious problem when it responded by absorbing the entire moon! That’s when its powers became more than just simple bio-manipulation, controlling gravity and creating acidic rain, as well as now being able to fling chunks of itself as meteors and cause hallucinations.

Boomstick: Plus, he actually grows in intelligence with each person consumed, starting with only the bare basics of survival to becoming a straight up genius with enough mass! Plus, with so many minds he’s basically immune to mind shenanigans and possessions.

Wiz: And yet, such an unfortunate specimen met its end still when the heroes Metal Goop and Joystar flew through the supermass and to its core, destroying the source of Living Flesh once and for all.

Boomstick: Also, it’s only really a genius when it gets that much mass. The less people it’s absorbed to draw from, the dumber it gets, and it’s actually scarily similar to a virus.

Wiz: Meaning that extremely cold temperatures can put a stop to its healing, making it much easier to handle, and destruction of its core will permanently kill it for good: No if’s, and’s, or but’s.

Boomstick: Heh, butt.

Wiz: Make no mistake, however. Project KRASNY-13 was an undeniable success. It was unkillable, unrecognizable, and ultimately, unpredictable. After all, no wars can ever be fought if all life belongs to one being.

Pedro’s Pointless Conquest continues in DEATH BATTLE!

Boomstick: Imagine this: It’s a nice, pleasant day outside. The birds are singing, the sky is clear, and you’re driving through the city to get to your normal 7-5 job, when all of a sudden, something smashes into the ground right in front of you.

Wiz: It’s not a meteor, nor some kind of alien artifact or hero in an intense battle. Instead, what crawls out of that hole is something much, MUCH more annoying. Pedro, The Penguin.

Boomstick: Doesn’t look like much, huh? Well, don’t be fooled, as this guy is single-handedly the most annoying goddamn thing the US government, along with a few mercenaries and villains, have ever had to deal with in their entire lives.

Wiz: All thanks to his strange power: His own imagination. Any tool or weapon he can think of, he can summon to his side. Everything from magnets, swords, guns, and legally distinct tools of the trade are all things he can summon so long as he thinks about them.

Boomstick: This also extends to his actual powers as well. We have classics like laservision, mind reading, flight, and even mimicking powers seen in pop-culture like Goku's Super Saiyan or Luffy’s Gears. All of which he used to get the legally distinct Soobway B.L.T. each and every day.

Wiz: Of course, because Pedro has a habit of doing things as inefficiently as possible, the US government took quick notice and immediate action, tricking Pedro and confining him for life in an attempt to stop him before he ever became a true threat.

Boomstick: Jokes on them though! Pedro escaped his confinement and swore to do the ultimate powermove against the government: Create the world's largest sandwich out of spite and EAT IT!

Wiz: A rather… strange goal, considering most usually vow to destroy said government in its entirety after being captured and practically tortured by it, but hey, this is preferable compared to revenge, since Pedro is no joke.

Boomstick: Yeah, not only is he basically a cartoon character, but he’s one hell of a fighter! He’s taken blows from all kinds of things, like missiles powered by Supernovas and punches from Joe the Flamingo, which could shake the Universe!

Wiz: He’s outrun black holes meant to catch beings faster than light, traveled through time with his sheer speed, and even managed to consume a B.L.T from the Fifth Dimension that should have KILLED him!

Boomstick: Uh, Wiz? All these powers are pretty broken, are we sure he belongs in the tournament?

Wiz: Yes, because of one thing: He’s an absolute MORON . No, seriously! That “trick” we mentioned earlier was just lying to him about taking him to meet the CEO of Soobway! They rode in a helicopter for Einsteins' sake, and he STILL didn’t figure it out until they landed and he realized he was at the White House!

Boomstick: Yeah, Pedro is a complete idiot. Half the time he won't even notice if you’re trying to kill him, and since all his powers rely on imagination, he can easily screw himself over if he grabs the wrong thing, and it’s not like he seems capable of using multiple of them at once. One wrong move against the wrong opponent, and Pedro can quickly find himself in a bad spot.

Wiz: But, even with this massive drawback, fighting the government was able to give Pedro experience defending himself, and when he does realize his life is on the line he has taken things seriously.

Boomstick: Because, throughout his battle against the government, he’s gotten a surprising amount of friends. Like Pike, a weird dragon-cat hybrid thing that’s actually a Titan, Diego, another unrelated flamingo turned psychotic, and even an immortal named Sol! And he’s got plenty more where those guys came from.

Wiz: Which is rather surprising, given how many fights he’s been in with some of them, along with other characters from various media.

Boomstick: It’s simple, Wiz: He may be an idiot, but he has a heart of solid gold. Protecting the innocent, his friends, and anyone he doesn’t think are bad people all comes naturally to him. Even if all of his conquests are a bit Pointless.

Intermission

Wiz: Alright, the combatants are set and we’ve run the data through all possibilities.

Boomstick: It’s time for a DEATH BATTLE!

Pre-fight

The city streets were abuzz with commotion. Everyone had to be everywhere at once, making navigation impossible. The roads themselves were congested like crazy, as if they were nothing more than parking spots at this point. But through all the hustle and bustle, few had the singular thought of a very… odd, individual.

Because, walking around the streets was a penguin. And although they looked a bit cartoony, they were undeniably a penguin. The feather suit, the orange beak and webbed feet, all belonged to a penguin named Pedro, who was currently struggling to get out of a dense crowd, his body squashing and stretching itself like rubber. Yet, the only thought in his mind, apart from his disappointment from the empty arena, was getting himself something to eat. He had avoided eating anything that might be thrown up before the tournament, but now that it seemingly wasn’t happening, he just wanted to get something in his stomach.

As he struggled, a smell came through the crowd of people. A smelly smell, cutting through the scents of perfumes and deodorant, that smelled all too familiar. The grease of bacon, the slight spice of tomato, and the crispness of lettuce. Just the imagination of this B.L.T.  drove Pedro to drooling all over the ground, as he forced himself through the crowd, coming over them as he pulled his legs free.

Except, he pulled on them a bit too hard, and with a snap , Pedro was sent flying as his legs came loose, bouncing against buildings like a rubber ball before finally crash landing in a parking lot.

There, the smell intensified, Pedro looking up to see a dark building with a neon sign out front, the name of the place in full view.

“Subway? Must be a knockoff of Soobway…”

Pedro’s stomach gurgled, and he tossed aside his thoughts. Even if they were a knockoff, they should still have a decent enough B.L.T., at least until he got dinner at an actual Soobway. But something still felt… off about this. The sign on the door clearly stated they were open until midnight, yet most of the lights inside were off, besides some in the presumed back of the shop behind closed doors.

Walking up to the doors, Pedro lightly pushed them open, even more confused as to why they weren’t locked if the place was as closed as it seemed. The inside was fairly well-kept, aside from a couple ketchup stains here and there, and it smelled like a knockoff of Soobway.

“Uh, is there anyone here?”

With no answer from anywhere, Pedro decided he’d just help himself to the kitchen. Somebody was probably gonna get fired, but he could hopefully find the keys and lock the place up after his meal. That’d hopefully get them off the hook when their boss came back. Opening up the metal doors into the kitchen, Pedro noted how there were some more ketchup stains in the corners, but once again never thought much of it. Finding all his ingredients in the fridge, he gathered them all up and began preparing them for his sandwich.

But as he did this, something plopped onto his head. Touching the spot revealed more of the ketchup that littered the place, and it was only when Pedro looked up did he realize why.

Above him was a monster. A writhing mass of flesh and faces that all looked down at him with unblinking stares as blood slowly dripped from its body. A small letter was slowly consumed by the mass, which Pedro recognized as the same one he got. An arm split off from the main body, falling to the floor, clutching the letter. What was left of it was well-dressed, something you’d see a hero wear. Whatever this sentient mass of flesh was, it consumed the invitee.

And if that invitee was anywhere as strong as Pedro imagined, then this Living Flesh wasn’t gonna go down without a fight.

FIGHT!

Pedro just had enough time to jump out of the way of the Living Flesh as it fell from the ceiling, crashing down with sounds of flesh tearing and bones breaking. As it landed, bones began to break through its surface and shoot out of itself, sticking Pedro to the wall with the projectiles outlining his body.

As the pile of flesh prepared another volley, Pedro popped himself off the wall and reached behind him, pulling out a grenade launcher and firing several rounds into his opponent. Each and every shell found itself embedded in the Living Flesh’s body, slowly consuming each one as their fuses continued to tick down. It was only after they were all consumed that Pedro noticed the smell of gasoline. Turning to his side, Pedro’s heart sank (as well as his facial features) as he saw one of the stoves was still on, leaking gas throughout the entire room.

But, he would be fine as long as nothing ignited it, right? Hopefully that pile of flesh successfully disarmed all those grenades, right???

Pedro found himself flying through the back of the Subway, the grenades detonating and blowing up his opponent and himself. Landing in a burnt-out heap, Pedro looked back up to see the knock-off burning up in flames, the screaming of what’s left of his opponent ringing throughout the city streets.

“Okay… Let’s just leave that as is…”

Pedro quickly left the scene - and screaming pile of flesh - and ran through the city streets. 

The empty city streets.

Pedro slowed down as he realised this. Besides the cars that littered the streets and the screaming from before, the city was completely empty and silent. The sun found itself almost behind the curvature of the planet by now, only adding to the uneasiness of the area. Before Pedro could think of flying above the city streets to investigate, the sounds of gurgled moans and growls came from all around him. From the alleyways and sewers, hundreds of similar flesh creatures began to surround him. They all looked different from each other, besides their horrifying red flesh, and they all seemed to have a different method of attack.

From the sky came ones that looked like large, meaty mosquitos, diving down to drain Pedro of his fluids. Pedro jumped back, landing right next to a manhole cover. He attempted to leap away again, only to have another creature come out of the hole and grab his leg, the green fluid in the Bursters chest quickly losing stability before bursting, splashing Pedro with some sort of acid that burned away his feathers before he healed from the injury. More and more of these strange flesh creatures began flooding the street, leaving little room for escape.

Pedro once again reached behind him, this time pulling out a large flamethrower and spraying the crowd of Living Flesh with it. The all screamed in agony as Bursters popped, their acid desperately trying to put out the fires. Pedro kept up the pressure, pulling out a large bastard sword to cut down any that got too close. The disgusting scent of blood, acid, and burnt flesh soon polluted the air as Pedro slowly progressed more and more through the crowd. 

Pedro kept up the flamethrower's fiery breath, until he turned around and heard it click disappointingly. He had run out of ammo, and before he could switch it out for another weapon, the low gurgled growls of something racing through the crowd reached him as a hound made of flesh and bone smashed together caught him, biting down on his wing with the blade.

Screaming in pain, Pedro dropped the now useless flamethrower and began punching the Gorehound in its face, trying to get it off him. Another Gorehound tackled and bit into his free arm, the two dragging him through the streets as the horde ripped and tore at his flesh.

Eventually, he shook off his assailants, but not before they smashed him into a stadium. Pedro found himself tumbling through chairs and down the stadium he now found himself in before hitting the main area: a large ice rink seemingly meant for hockey. More and more of the horde poured in from whatever opening they could find, yet as they got closer and closer to their target, they found their bodies beginning to slow as the freezing air within began to halt their cellular activities.

Pedro, simply noticing that cold seems to be a problem for them, had a lightbulb pop over his head, which literally zapped another Leech from before that got too close. Shoving his hands into the ice, he pulled out two frost covered gauntlets. Placing one hand in front of his face, an ice-blue mask formed over him as he grew a ponytail. A single strand of hair covered one of his eyes.

“SUB-ZERO” Came a voice from nowhere as Pedro immediately began using his new ice powers to fight. As the horde came, Pedro fired blasts of ice from his palms, freezing most on the spot and shattering as they were trampled by the others. Manipulating the ice beneath him, Pedro began sliding around the arena, forming various weapons to cut, stab, and smash all that got too close. Another Gorehound leapt at him, but only crunched down on an ice statue as Pedro disappeared from sight.

Above the arena, on the scoreboard, is where Pedro reappeared. Using the scoreboard as a base, Pedro got to work making a massive chandelier, before dropping it all onto the army below him. Their bones and flesh cracked against the ice before perishing, and Pedro quickly slid out of the stadium to face the now even greater hoard.

More and more fleshy abominations surrounded him, but his new ice powers let him keep up with the army much better than fire. Those coming near him found their bodies vulnerable to the cold air around him, and subsequently destroyed by his weapons.

Pedro leapt into the air once again, now being kept afloat by a jetpack as the cold energy gathered in front of him. Focusing this power, Pedro let out a massive beam of ice that froze the entire street he looked at, each one of his foes being frozen solid.

Landing back down on the street, though now without both the jetpack, mask, and strange hairdo, Pedro looked at the horrifying statues that he just made. Each one seemed to be more grotesque than the last, and they all filled him with a mix of disgust and uneasiness. But the tapping of claws on ice drew his attention behind him, to which he came face-to-face with a Prowler, their uncharacteristic grey body and scythe-like hands lunging for him.

Pedro rolled out of the way of the attack, the Prowler smashing through several of the sculptures as some around Pedro began to shake and shatter. Living Flesh puppets covered in sharpened bones had managed to free themselves from their prisons, and now began attacking Pedro. 

Once again on the backfoot, Pedro had no choice but to keep running as more and more Bonesaws freed themselves and Prowlers came out of their hiding places. Pedro more than once landed right next to a Bonesaw just as they freed themselves, leading him to continue his attempt of getting away from the ever-increasing horde of Living Flesh.

Just as he seemingly managed to make it out, he felt something pierce straight through his chest: The claw of a Prowler that had finally managed to catch up to and ambush him. Pedro felt his blood begin to pool into his lungs as he gagged on his blood flooding his throat and out his mouth. More of the horde began to surround him, tearing at his flesh and biting on his limbs in an attempt to consume him. His body screamed out in agony as he was unable to make any noise due to choking on his own blood. 

Then, he saw it. The moon above in the night sky began to shake and move, splitting right down the middle to reveal a massive eye as its surface turned the same shade of red as the things consuming him. It looked down at him as clouds covered the sky, all except for a single spot where Pedro could still see it. It was taunting, laughing at him as acid fell through the sky. 

Pedro’s mind began to race. These piles of flesh - these monsters were seemingly consuming all they saw, including the moon. What else would they devour? Who else would be next?

Pedro’s mind turned to his friends. Pike, Sol, Diego and Stickman… They were all waiting for him back home.

Pedro’s blood began to boil, both figuratively and literally as the horde surrounding him backed off from having their bodies melted by his draining blood. Pedro would not fall here, he absolutely refused to. He wouldn’t let this monstrous horde even get the chance to threaten his friends. Even as the acid rain burned his flesh away, he only focused on one thing: Destroying that moon.

Pedro began to run once again, only this time it was through the horde. Those attempting to stop him found themselves splattered across the ground as Pedro rapidly picked up speed, before leaping up as much as he could towards that hole in the clouds he saw, even as it closed up. Pedro felt his body repair itself against the rain he was faced with, and his wings grew in size and carried him even further than before.

Finally, Pedro tore through the clouds and once again saw the night sky tainted by the moon of Living Flesh. Pedro once again morphed his arms back to what they were and continued his flight, breaking out of the atmosphere and into space.

The Living Flesh, however, would not just sit there. More and more of its horde bubbled to its surface before being flung towards the rapidly approaching enemy. Pedro ducked and dodged each one, save for an Infant that latched onto his face and tore at him. Pedro, however, quickly tossed them aside and continued his flight. The Living Flesh changed tactics, instead growing massive bone spikes that shot out of it in a never-ending volley of violence. Pedro tried to maneuver around this volley as well, but found himself being pushed back more and more as the volley continued.

Pedro looked once more at the moon as he was shoved back, and his determination to win was reignited. Pedro pulled out one final weapon: A katana with a black sheath. Pedro leapt off another bone before gripping the katana's handle, and in an instant dimensions were cut in two. Pedro continued swinging Yamato around, making quick work of the volley as it only intensified. Finally, the eye replaced itself with a massive, continent destroying shard of bone before firing it at Pedro.

Pedro caught the Bone with Yamato, blade and bone struggling against each other as the Living Flesh continued to pile on the pressure, firing volley after volley at Pedro. Before, with one final shout, Pedro cut through the bone. The Living Flesh prepared to fire another projectile, only to find it frozen in place as Pedro appeared behind it. 

All it took was one single flourish and sheathing the blade before Pedro’s action took its toll. Thousands of slashes tore through the moon of Living Flesh, its core and body being reduced to ribbons. It and Pedro both fell to the earth, crash landing back in the city Pedro originally found himself in. The horde he fought had all fallen to their deaths, their source of life destroyed. 

Pedro picked himself up, his wounds slowly healing, before being smacked in the face by a flyer.

A flyer for Subway, asking to leave a review. Manifesting a pencil, Pedro wrote his review on the paper before letting the wind take it away as he walked off, the review reading: “ONE STAR: TERRIBLE KNOCK OFF OF SOOBWAY AND WORST DINING EXPERIENCE EVER!”

K.O.!

Boomstick: Man, talk about tonal whiplash.

Wiz: This fight was a fair bit closer than one would think: Given Pedros lackluster intelligence compared to the Living Flesh’s genius level, he could very well be lured into a trap for the Living Flesh to consume him. But, there was quite a few problems with this strategy.

Boomstick: First off, stats. Yeah, the Living Flesh could keep up with lasers and was able to destroy the planet by smashing into it as a moon, but Pedro was outrunning modified black holes meant to capture things faster than light and fought guys capable of shaking the universe with a single blow.

Wiz: Another big problem the Living Flesh faced was just Pedro’s sheer randomness. It’s basically impossible to predict what he’ll pull out next, and while Pedro could end up picking the wrong tool for the job, he was just as likely to pick the right one.

Boomstick: And that just leaves consuming Pedro. And while Pedro has never shown any resistance to it, not only would the Living Flesh have to actually catch him, but also consume him completely if they wanted any sort of power boost.

Wiz: The Living Flesh was a biological nightmare, capable of wiping out all life if left unchecked, but it unfortunately found its endless hunger ended by Pedro.

Boomstick: The Living Flesh may have been made by the government, but Pedro’s history of his Pointless Adventures against them meant he had nothing to worry about.

Wiz: The winner is Pedro the Penguin.

Chapter Text

With a stereo, a nice smoothie, and a cot on a random building, Pike was set up for the perfect day outside just relaxing. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t think much else other than she was a tall, strange cat-girl with a spiky lizard tail. It’s not like she wore anything special either, just a plain white t-shirt and brown sandals. Sure, she was tall and muscular, but that alone wouldn’t make it clear what her species was: A Titan. And for her, today would have been the perfect day to take a nap under the sun.

That is, if it wasn’t for the overcast weather that heavily smelled like it was going to rain any second.

Pike sighed, clearly disappointed. She had already fought a bunch of people and wanted to treat herself to a bit of a break, but the current weather made that impossible. Now she was just restless and wanted some more combat training. The problem with that was she was running out of people to fight…

Sitting up, Pike had an idea. Pedro, her friend, had mentioned being invited to a tournament that would supposedly start later that day. She could try challenging everyone that got kicked out of the tournament in round one!

Drinking the rest of her smoothie, she hopped into the air and flew into the direction she remembered being told about the tournament. It wasn’t too far for her, just a few miles south of where she was, where she found the stadium. Laying in the middle of a dense forest, it was surprisingly quiet for someplace that should have a ton of spectacle. Floating down, she realized why: The entire area was completely and utterly empty, not a single sign of life anywhere.

The stadium itself was pretty standard. Dirt floor, giant stone columns, the usual. But standing in the entire area made her feel… uneasy. Like that feeling when you’re about to be attacked. She knew she was at the right place at the right time, so where was everybody? Even going through all the hallways in the stadium itself revealed nothing but more and more empty hallways, save for a few scraps of cloth caught on doors and such.

As she was walking back through them, however, she heard shouting. It was very faint and distant, but it was clearly coming from the center of the stadium. Hurrying outside and into the arena, she saw a surprisingly familiar face. The green, rotting skin, the carved smile, the clothes clearly dug up from the trash, it was Chaos alright. But something about him was… off. He seemed transparent, flickering occasionally as if he wasn’t fully there. Most notably, he was shouting obscenities at nothing.

And doing that a whole lot.

“GET THE FUCK OUT HERE YOU GENOCIDAL PIECE OF SHIT! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU I’M GONNA SKIN YOU ALIVE YOU HEAR ME!?”

Pike watched as Chaos ran over to one of the pillars and grabbed it, lifting it into the air as it shared the same visual properties as Chaos before he threw it, causing it to phase through Pike as she put her guard up. But as she looked up, she saw that same piller just standing where it was, as if it was never touched in the first place.

“Uh, Chaos?”

Chaos finally stopped his stream of obscenities, looking around in surprise as he drew his revolver before focusing on Pike.

“Wh- The hell are you doing here? And what’s going on with your body?”

Chaos put away his weapon, his voice still distant. Pike was just as confused as him, as she didn’t see anything wrong with her body. 

“Hm? I don’t see any difference, nor do I feel anything…”

Chaos had begun walking around her, studying her body up and down, seemingly trying to piece together what’s happening.

“Well, it looks like you’re phasing out of reality or something… but if nothing seems off on your end, I’m guessing I look the same, right?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty weird. It also sounds like you’re way more distant too… What do you think is going on?”

Chaos looked around himself, presumably at his own arena.

“I’ll need to study this more… Though how long it’ll take is a mystery.”

“Okay, I’ll help then!”

“Please, how can you-”

Chaos found himself interrupted as Pike reached forward, digging her claws into the air and ripping through the frail dimensions to step over to Chaos’s side, who was now staring at her shocked.

“Huh, that was easier than normal. Well, where do we start?”

Chaos didn't answer, still staring at the hole in space-time that Pike just tore open like it was nothing as it closed up. It took a minute, but Pike was able to get his attention back to the task at hand. Chaos still was pretty stressed out by the lack of someone named Edgar to maim, but Pike lending a hand did seem to ease him a bit. Or it didn’t, it was really hard to tell with him sometimes. But hey, something like this ought to be easy to figure out, right!

Right?

Chapter Text

Wiz: Maxwell, the undying Serial Killer

Boomstick: Trace, Hypertech’s most disposable unit turned greatest asset

Wiz: These two characters w̷̛̬̼͚̯̼͙̖̏̐̾̆̿i̴̘̜͎̠̝̬͆́ḻ̷̛͔̗͖̭̘̘̤̞̗̗̻̤͓͖̞̹̆̐̊̓͐̉̈́̈́̃̓͐͛̄͋͂̌́͠ͅͅļ̶̨̡̨̧̛̼̰̹̰̩̥͖͔̞͎͇̱̥͈̉̄͂́̓̅̈́͊̂͒̓͐̉̈̓̿̈͛̓͘̕͝͠͠ ̴̢̣̱̫̜̮͔̥͙̹̤̬̣̰̯̝̩͇͙͙̇̔̀̐̈́̒̓̌̌́b̷̧̢̭̻̳̭̫͖̙̪͓͎̘̪̜̜̺̭̝͖͈̳͚̓̒̔̐̌e̴̟̪̬̒̔̂̉͊̅͛̾̊͊̑͌̿̿͊̽̾̎̈́̊̅̚̚͝͝ ̵̢̧̛͙̱̟̥̠̼͂̽͌͌̔̍̊̍͛͊̀̎̐̇̄͠ͅt̸̢͙͙̠͛̂̈́̒͊̐̈́͆̏̔͋̄̎̓̚͠ë̶̛̛͇̭͖̫͉́̊̿̾̀̏̀̋̈́͌͛̐̈́̌s̴̢̪̾̕ͅt̵̛̛̺͍̘̥̪̝̜̩͎͙̼̗͔̲̱̖͎͓͎̫̗͂̒̊͋̅͂̂̑̆̈́̿͂͛͒͒̈́͊̐͗̍̀́͜͝ē̸̡̝̞͍̃͆̌̔͐̑́̀̈́̋̊̊̊͊͋̌͆͛̌̾̎̚d̵̛̛͙͖̯͍̍̏̿͆̅̈́̈́͛̃̒͂̿͂̀̊͌

Boomstick: He’s Wiz and I’m Boomstick!

Wiz: And we’ll analyze their weapons, armor and skills to find out who would win, a DEATH BATTLE!

Maxwell Never Dies in DEATH BATTLE!

Wiz: You wake up in your bed, go to work, eat, and then sleep. A never ending cycle of peace most experience, until the day they die. Whether it be from a freak accident, illness, or just simply old age, many a man's story ends with their death.

Boomstick: Unless some paranormal fuckery decides to come knocking on ya, like running into fairies, eating something you weren’t supposed to, or finding a magical artifact with crazy powers.

Wiz: Or, if you are much more unfortunate than others, you may be susceptible to deals with the devil. Revenge, love, desperation, or the desire for sheer anarchy are all the most well-known causes of these deals, but sometimes the one who pays the price had nothing to do with it in the first place.

Boomstick: Meet Maxwell Charles Leovine, just your average heavily abused kid with one hell of a chip on his shoulder. Not only were his parents abusive scumbags, but he had basically no one else in his life to stick up for him.

Wiz: Until the abuse had gotten so bad that, and the young age of five years old, his body could not take it anymore, and he perished in a single night. But, as we just mentioned, that was not the end for him, far from it in fact.

Boomstick: Yeah, it turns out a couple decades ago some cult decided to try and bring a demon to their world. All for the purpose of righteous fury to punish humanity for their sins. Ironic, right?

Wiz: While the demon had trouble finding a suitable vessel for those decades, Maxwell was a perfect host for it. And so, Maxwell was brought back from the grave one week after his supposed death, his psyche now tainted by the demon who brought him back.

Boomstick: He wasn’t just mentally different either. On top of becoming a sadistic homicidal maniac, he also became crazy strong physically! Meet him in a back alley, and being stabbed by that kitchen knife of his is gonna be the least of your worries.

Wiz: In order to make Maxwell a better vessel, the demon granted him enormous strength, making breaking others' bones trivial for Maxwell and enhancing just about everything else to peak human levels. In other words, there’s practically no escape from him.

Boomstick: Like the time he smashed a whole ass redwood tree in a single blow! To do something like that, he’d need to exert a little over 8 tons of TNT in a single punch, and take cannonballs with about the same level of force like a champ!

Wiz: Going back to his other abilities, Maxwell has a ton that make fighting him just that much scarier. He can induce severe pain and hallucinations with his gaze, blind those around him for a few seconds, and even swap places with anyone he sees within eight feet.

Boomstick: Plus, being the soon-to-be vessel for a demon grants him some nifty perks by itself. We mentioned that he was brought back to life, but he can always do this. Every time he dies, just wait a week and he’ll pop right back out of his grave like a chia pet!

Wiz: This is alongside his immunity to pain and being contained in any way. Sure, he’s not immune to, say, having an air conditioner fall on his head, but nothing keeps him down or in one place for long. He can even gauge how morally righteous or corrupt someone is, and despite his sadistic nature, he rarely fights those he deems as good people. 

Boomstick: More like he doesn’t start fights with them, since he still is a maniac who repeatedly kills both famous and rich people, and people don’t exactly like having a murderer around.

Wiz: Well, it’s far better than the alternative. See, Maxwell was a perfect vessel candidate, but he needed some fine tuning first. The stronger he became, the more susceptible to the demon's possession he became as well. So, to prevent what basically amounts to the apocalypse, Maxwell puts in the bare minimum effort in keeping himself alive.

Boomstick: But even after literally starving himself to death, Maxwell is still just as strong as he is out of the grave, although there is a very, very slight increase in his power with each death. In theory, if he survived for about sixty thousand years without dying he’d be strong enough for the demon to possess him.

Wiz: Which just goes to show just how downright terrifying Maxwell's potential is, even at his absolute weakest. No door can stop him, no distance is great enough, and no home is safe for sinners. For in the dead of night, as all falls silent, the last thing you’ll see are the eyes of the devil himself.

Trace Is The Perfect Scout for DEATH BATTLE!

Wiz: Every world has its rules. From the magical fantasy settings of many RPGs to the science fiction worlds exploring the stars, each and every single one of these worlds operated under its own unique reality.

Boomstick: So, what happens when you get a shit ton of them up and smash ‘em all together like you’re playing with Play-Doh? You get the world of Eidolon, the result of a thousand different worlds all converging together.

Wiz: Just about everything exists in this dimension held together by reality's glue sticks and the hopes and dreams of its inhabitants. Dragons slumber beneath mountains as advanced AI’s form cults throughout the floating islands found here.

Boomstick: But, like any world, it's got its fair share of bad apples. Everything from your common street rat to god killing maniacs is fair game, and when they need some help, they all got one phone number in the back of their mind.

Wiz: HyperTech, a massive company operating in the shadows, and the Eidolons greatest tech company. For those a bit paranoid about potential coups, these are the guys to go, especially with their cheap yet powerful scout units: The Trace.

Boomstick: Don’t let their outwardly friendly demeanor make you let your guard down, though. There’s a reason why these units, all piloted by a single AI behind the scenes, are one of HyperTechs best soldiers.

Wiz: With each unit that falls, more and more data is collected and each later model is improved based on said information. There have been fourteen different models so far, each one building off the last model. For example, after an encounter with the unit 4R3S, or Ares, Traces gained the ability to redirect energy, along with an increased power supply.

Boomstick: And that was just the fourth model! Later variations gave them things like increased hacking and tracking abilities, self-destruct extra copies, and even fire a goddamn laser out of his face! Now THAT’S metal!

Wiz: Of course, plenty of these iterations also improved his overall arsenal, like the Firebolt and Plasma Suppressor firearms that can shoot out plasma, bolas’s, plasma grenades and plasma nets. He even has his Robotic Overloaders, capable of absorbing electricity and distributing it from his hands.

Boomstick: Goodies for the whole spectrum of non-lethal to lethal spectrum, even though he’s on the bad guys side like 80% of the time. But when things do get serious, they have a built-in switch in their code that makes them take things much more seriously.

Wiz: That’s when they’ll combine their Firebolt and Plasma Suppressor to form the Penetration Bolt, or pull out their Vibro-Knife, which vibrates at such a frequency that it allows for cutting power almost unmatched by anything else.

Boomstick: This aint all talk, either. They’ve been able to take down a bunch of heroes who could destroy buildings, which, on average, would require a force of around 82 Kilotons of TNT!

Wiz: Even if their tactics rely more on numbers that direct confrontations, that’s still incredibly impressive. He can perfectly repair a room and form his weapons with his magic, infiltrate massive bases with ease, and was even able to react to an active combat zone he was suddenly teleported to in only 2.2 seconds.

Boomstick: And while they can form barriers around them, considering the fact that an actual building could fall on them and they could walk out without so much as a scratch on them, being able to stop anti-tank rounds with them seems almost paltry in comparison.

Wiz: Not as useless as they might seem at first glance, as they help protect its central battery located in the face of each model. A single good blow to it will cause a unit to instantly become inoperable, and even their ability to teleport to anything or anywhere they’ve seen before or regenerate large portions of their bodies has still left them vulnerable to their batteries being destroyed.

Boomstick: But when the chips are down and someone needs killing, that’s when Overclock comes in.

Wiz: By forcing their batteries into overtime, a unit can receive a massive boost to all physical stats, including perception and regeneration. However, this severely drains his battery, causing it to be reduced to only 5 hours of use before it’s completely drained.

Boomstick: But if you’re fighting one, chances are you’re not gonna even get that far without some serious fire-power yourself. There’s a damn good reason why these things are as powerful as they are. Because it doesn’t matter who or what stands in their way, cuz’, as I learned as a kid when going camping, a good scouts honor relies on their completion of the duty, and Trace’s are about as complete as they come.

Intermission

Wiz: Alright, the combatants are set and we’ve run the data through all possibilities.

Boomstick: It’s time for a DEATH BATTLE!

Pre-fight

You know what, today was a good day for Carlos. He got a promotion at work, his wife announced her pregnancy, and it was a wonderful night with millions of stars dancing among the cosmos. He was busy walking down the street to head to a local diner, as his wife wasn’t feeling well enough to make either of them dinner, and gods above could he not cook for his life. Turning the street corner, he saw it: a plain diner without any special sign signifying its name, only a neon sign in the window showing it was open. Even so, it was a very popular spot due to the wonderful food they made there, and he could smell it even a block away.

Licking his lips and swallowing his saliva, Carlos quickly made his way towards it. Just standing outside of the building made his mouth water, and the interior was so cozy he almost wished he could live there. The lights were a warm yellow, the seats were all a mint green, and the smells were almost overwhelmingly delicious.

“Be right with ya hun!”

Carlos took a seat next to the counter, waiting as the much older woman a few feet away finished up taking an order. Passing the note along to the kitchen, the woman, who’s name tag read “Merideth”, quickly walked over to Carlos.

“Hey there, stud! Heard about the news!”

“Oh, have you?”

“Of course! You know us old folk love to gossip, right? Can’t believe it finally happened, and to two of my favorite customers!”

“Right? I can still hardly believe it, on top of my recent promotion… honestly makes me a bit nervous with how things are going so well.”

“Bah, that’s just the paranoia talking! You deserve to be happy, just like every one of my customers! In fact, consider this meal on the house, as a small gift from us to you!”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Shush now! It’s nothing special to us, with the new hire we got.”

To emphasize her point, she stuck her thumb out behind her towards the kitchen, the small window Carlos could see through suddenly having a strange, shiny grey arm show itself and provide a thumbs up.

“Now, what can I get ya?”

Carlos smiled, his day just continuing to improve as the hours ticked by. After he gave his order to-go, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through all his pictures. Some included fantastic scenery, others some of the great meals and clean plates he’s had here. However, his favorites were all the pictures of his family. His parents, siblings, all the pets he’s ever cherished, and most of all, his lovely wife. He scrolled through what felt like hundreds of pictures of her, from when they first met to her telling him about her pregnancy, as if his life was flashing before his eyes.

As he finished up his look through time, he noticed a particularly well-dressed man walk by the diner. They were fairly tall with a nice, black suit. All they needed was a tophat to complete the picture, Carlos figured. But as he turned away, back to his phone, something began to eat him. Looking back at the window, he got a glimpse of someone in a grey hoodie with red stripes going down their sleeve. Most importantly, though, was that he swore he saw the flash of a blade.

Looking back at the kitchen, Carlos figured that he could go investigate real quick. His food was likely nowhere near close to done, so he left his phone on the counter with the message “Be right back” on it. Slowly walking outside and following where he saw the two head off towards, he found what he was looking for. 

And he really wished he hadn’t.

Right in front of an alleyway the diner was next to was a large puddle of blood, trailing off deeper into the alleyway as bloody footprints followed. Hurrying inside the dark passage, Carlos found the culprit.

In front of him was a grizzly sight, as the person in the hood from before now stood above the wealthy man's corpse, now brutally mutilated.

“Man, I needed that…”

“Wh-What the hell…”

The figure, now clearly much younger than Carlos, turned around at his voice. The front of his hood was white with a red smiley face, and below his messy brown hair was a yellow mask with a painted smile, and the eyes of what Carlos could only describe as that belonging to a demon peering out from behind them.

“De-Demon… You’re a monster!”

Maxwell sighed, the comment stinging a bit too much for him today, which was already pretty shit all things considered.

“Tch, oh well. One less witness, and hopefully a bit more relief…”

Carlos would have asked what he meant, if his heart hadn’t jumped up to his throat as Maxwell suddenly dashed at him. His body instinctively fell backwards in a futile attempt to avoid danger, and as he stared at the bloody knife reaching for him, a single thought came to his mind. 

“This is it. This is how I die…”

Carlos shut his eyes for what he believed to be the last time, only to fall on his back and hear a metallic CLANG ring out in front of him. As the seconds ticked by, Carlos became more and more unsure of his imminent demise, eventually opening them to see a plastic bag being handed to him.

“Your order, dear valued customer!”

Carlos looked up to see a large robot, complete with a grey, shiny body under a chefs uniform staring down at him. At least, it felt like they were staring down at them, since they didn’t have any eyes. Unless, of course, you counted that strange blue light in the center of their forehead, which itself were adorned in what looked almost like horns. Carlos gingerly grabbed the bag and looked over the machines shoulders, seeing the outline of Maxwell's mask firmly implanted in the metal door that just swung open on him, saving Carlos’s life.

“Th-Thank you…”

“Now, better head off! Don’t want to keep the missus waiting!”

Carlos, taking this chance to run away, didn’t hesitate to run as fast as he could as far as he could. He almost hesitated when he realized he just left them alone with a murderer, but something told him he shouldn’t worry about them. The timing of the rescue, and the delivery of his food, made him think there was a lot more to that robot that it seemed…

As the Trace unit watched another satisfied customer run off, he looked back at the would-be attacker as he grabbed the door and tore himself free of it. Now, Maxwell was especially pissed off. Not only did he get scammed out of a tournament, he also now has to deal with that pile of soon-to-be scrap metal that just let a kill get away. But as he looked at the machine, he noticed something: This thing has a ton of blood on its hands. Not literally, metaphorically. This thing had killed a ton of people.

“Lot of sin for one robot to have. Guess I won’t mind tearing you apart after all.”

The Trace unit stood before Maxwell, its clothes digitally shifting into a normal blue hoodie and jeans.

“As part of our company policy, any threats to our dear customers…”

A futuristic-looking revolver materialized in its hand: The Firebolt.

“ Shall be eliminated by any means necessary.”

The two stood there, completely motionless as they prepared for a fight. Before the Trace unit once again spoke up.

“With that out of the way, why don’t we introduce ourselves so we can talk this out! I am a Trace unit, and your name is?”

They never got an answer as Maxwell punched them in the face, sending them sprawling across the street. Quickly getting back up, Trace watched as Maxwell walked out of the alleyway, blood still trailing from the soles of his shoes. Looks like it was going to be the hard way after all…

FIGHT!

Maxwell once again lunged at Trace, this time using his kitchen knife to try and stab Trace. The machine moved to the side, then jumped back a bit as Maxwell swung his knife upwards. As both combatants stepped back to reassess the situation, data began to converge in Traces hand, forming itself into a Bolas. Wielding the weapon as a pair of nunchucks, Trace took the initiative and begun swinging the Bolas around himself in a defensive sort of motion.

“Now that I have made a sort of defensive barrier, why don’t-”

The Trace unit was once again interrupted by Maxwell choosing to just tackle him out of his defensive stance, the bolas falling to the ground as Maxwell clambered on top of him and began laying into him. The Trace unit held up its arms in an attempt to protect its battery before catching Maxwell’s arms as the latter attempted to drive his knife into Trace’s metallic skull. The two struggled for a bit, eventually leading to Trace kicking Maxwell off of him.

As both quickly rose back up to their feet, Maxwell gripped his knife tighter and got into a much more tactical stance with it. Trace once again pooled data into its hand, a Vibro-Knife forming in it as he copied Maxwell's stance. Both fighters inched closer and closer to each other, before they eventually reached striking distance. Maxwell stabbed out, Trace blocking the attack with the flat of his own blade, followed by Trace swinging out himself, only for Maxwell to duck underneath the attack. This dance lasted for a bit, only ending when their blades clashed again. Except, this time their edges made contact, and the Vibro-Knifes high frequency cut through Maxwell’s like putty.

But before the Trace unit could follow this up, he was body-checked by Maxwell’s shoulder and once again dropped his weapon. This time, however, Maxwell jumped up and caught the knife, slashing it downwards as he fell and cutting off Trace’s arm as they held it up in an attempt to block the attack.

“Not a bad toy…”

Maxwell eyed his new weapon up and down in front of him. The way it moved in his hand made him think of the high-frequency weapons he’s seen in movies and games. And now he has the real deal.

The Trace unit, meanwhile, held its now missing hand as it began to reform itself. Data once again formed in its hand, now taking a much different shape. Instead of a knife or bolas, the object that formed was much similar to a revolver, albeit one that looked way more high tech than the standard issue. Taking aim with both hands, the Trace unit tracked each of Maxwell's vital organs, aiming away from them before taking fire, electric bolts being shot out.

Maxwell, no longer intrigued by his new weapon, swung out at each shot, his knife easily cutting through them and causing the shots to hit random objects behind him. Once the Trace unit took a second to reload his weapon, Maxwell pressed his advantage once again, lunging at the machine, or quickly pulled his own weapon back up in an attempt to catch his opponent. Except, as he did so his vision completely blacked out. 

Maxwell easily dodged the blind shots fired out of panic, and quickly used his knife to slice off the Trace unit's head. As the body fell to the floor, Maxwell walked over to the freshly cut off head as the battery on it flickered between life and death. Deciding to make the decision for it, Maxwell crushed the head with his foot like it was a cardboard box.

“Whew… Now that was satisfying.”

Maxwell, proud of a job well done, turned around and began walking down the empty street. But before he could even pull out his phone, presumably to tell his girlfriend about his shit day, he heard the sound of metallic footsteps in front of him. Looking back up, he saw a bunch of other Trace units emerging out of alleyways, buildings, and even a few clambered out of a taxi, including the driver who was also a Trace unit. They all wore different outfits as well, but that quickly changed as they all reverted their clothes back to their original appearance. By Maxwell's guess, there was about twenty units, all of which presumably came for him.

“Talk about deja vu… Newsflash, you’ll need a lot more than that to take me down!”

The Trace units all responded to this remark by forming a lot more Firebolts and Plasma Suppressors, all aimed directly at Maxwell. The loud sound of all that futuristic machinery all preparing to fire made Maxwell realize just how screwed he was about to be.

“Shit SHIT SHIT !”

Maxwell quickly ran to the side and ducked into an alleyway as the small army opened fire on his location, kicking up a ton of dust and debris as the weapons blew up the surrounding area. Taking a second to catch his breath, Maxwell looked up to see some metal stairs leading up to the roof of one of the buildings.

As a few Traces made it to the alleyway, they slowly investigated the narrow passage before their scanners picked up footprints on the staircase, slowly leading up to the roof. The small group, only about four, quickly ascended the stairs in pursuit of their foe. But as they reached the top, they found… nothing. Not even any other tracks of anything else. The small group slowly walked across the rooftop, looking for where their target went.

As the final one stepped onto the rooftop, Maxwells plan came into focus as he rose out of his hiding place: right next to the edge of the roof and the staircase, completely out of sight of the machines as he rose up behind the last one and quickly dispatched the slowest one, cutting its head clean in half as the other three quickly reacted to the threat. As the furthest one pulled out another Firebolt, Maxwell threw his knife right into their battery, disabling that one in an instant.

The other two, however, were prepared now as they pulled out Plasma Suppressors and began spraying plasma across the rooftop, causing Maxwell to be forced to focus on dodging the strange, sticky substance. Finding his back to the ledge, he quickly hopped onto it as the other Traces below aimed their weapons at him. His mind racing, he only had a few seconds to plan as his brain processed his next course of action.

Jumping off the roof, time seemed to slow down as the Trace units opened fire, while the other two on the roof chased after, only to stop at the ledge. Maxwell took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and opened them, focusing on one of the Trace units before the hailstorm of bullets found their mark. After a few seconds of continuous fire, all the Trace units stopped, letting what remained of their target fall on the ground as nothing more than a pile of… scrap metal?

As the units investigated the strange corpse, their sensors alerted them to an incoming threat as several of them were crushed underneath a telephone pole that fell from the sky. Their scanners went into overdrive, finding their target on the other side of the building they stood in front of and hurried to their location.

Maxwell quickly smashed down another telephone pole, grunting with effort as he lifted it up and tossed it behind him hoping that he’d hit a few of his marks. He had switched places with one of the Trace units on the roof and quickly dispatched the other, unfortunately having to leave his new knife behind. As he destroyed another telephone pole, he heard the sounds of metal feet drumming behind him through the alleyway. Groaning in annoyance, Maxwell lifted his improvised weapon above him and slammed it into the alleyway, blocking off the paths of the Trace units. Not stopping, Maxwell began charging the Trace’s with the phone pole, shoving and running many of them over. Not stopping the assault, Maxwell began lifting the telephone pole up and slamming it into the machines over and over as they were crushed under its weight.

Maxwell continued this assault, getting a good chunk of them with each smash and feeling satisfaction seep into his bones. But below the noise of robots being crushed, Maxwell barely registered the sound of the wall next to him cracking. Turning his head, Maxwell lost sight as it was destroyed in a cloud of dust. Maxwell tried to swipe it all away, only to have his throat grabbed and slammed into the other wall, forcing him to drop the pole.

“Target confirmed.”

The dust settled to reveal another Trace unit that had broken through the buildings wall to get to Maxwell, except its usually cheery voice now sounded much more serious, the battery in its forehead now glowing a deadly red.

Maxwell didn’t even get a chance to retaliate as his head was forced through the wall before his entire body was dragged along it, the brickwork smashing against his flesh before he was eventually thrown back onto the city street. Maxwell slowly began to get up, his body seriously now suffering from all the damage he’s taken, before being covered in a plasma-formed net and left unable to move. As the Traces moved in on him, he craned his neck and looked at the crowd that had been formed around him. The Overclocked Trace didn’t hesitate in raising its foot above Maxwell's head, and slamming it down, only to stop just before it crushed another Trace's head as Maxwells once again swapped places.

The Trace units all looked around, finding Maxwell standing right behind a fire hydrant with his foot on the object. As they began pulling out their weapons, Maxwell kicked the hydrant as hard as he could, dislodging it and causing both the flying object to clock the Overcharged Trace, and make a massive fountain of water that nullified the electric and plasma based projectiles from the Trace units weapons. With the chaos he just caused, Maxwell quickly took advantage of all the confusion and charged the Trace units. Shoving one aside and taking their Firebolt, Maxwell quickly began dispatching the ten or so Trace units left, dodging under their attacks and taking shots at their head when he could.

One shot found itself flying towards the Overcharged Trace’s head, who quickly formed a barrier around itself to block the shot. With a silent order, several other Trace units tackled Maxwell as he struggled to shake them off. Maxwell smashed them over the head, kicked them in the stomach, whatever he thought would be necessary to get them off before he eventually reached out and grabbed the battery of one of them, crushing it within his fingers. However, instead of simply falling on the ground, the Trace unit instead began melting over Maxwell, flash-freezing solid in a matter of seconds

“What the hell!?”

The Overcharged Trace unit pulled out its own Firebolt, quickly shooting the other Trace units in the head and causing them to help cover Maxwell in their trap more securely. Maxwell struggled with his confinement, desperately trying to free himself from the metal slag that now coated his body, as the Overcharged Trace unit began preparing its final attack. Forming a Plasma Suppressor, the Trace unit brought them both together, sparks and raw data merging to form the Penetration Bolt.

As the high-powered weapon began charging up, Maxwell began struggling even harder. There was no way in hell he was gonna die now , he thought as the slag around him began cracking from the constant struggle. Eventually, his struggle bore fruits as his arm was freed, stretching it out towards his mechanical foe as the gun was fired. Maxwell focused one last time on the Trace unit's outline, and switched places with him, leaving the machine stuck in the slag like he was.

Turning around, Maxwell watched as the Penetration Bolts projectile completely and utterly blew up the makeshift trap, leaving nothing but melted slag and flames behind. Maxwell took a second before finally finding his ability to breathe again, satisfied with the result.

But before he could even turn around, he found himself in a Nelson position as the Overcharged Trace unit grabbed him and gripped his head. 

“HOW THE HELL!?”

Maxwell looked back at the wreckage, wondering how on earth it escaped the attack, noticing a blue mist dancing among the flames. The Overcharged Unit had teleported itself out of the attack at the last moment, and now had Maxwell right where he wanted him. Maxwell tried to struggle out of the grip, but without any valid targets he couldn’t teleport himself and the Trace units grip was too much. Maxwells eyes glanced all around him, desperately looking for some sort of escape, before noticing the broken telephone wires scattered across the street leaking electricity, and the puddle of water the two stood in slowly creeping towards them.

Realizing the incoming threat, Maxwell's struggles only increased in proportion to his panic. But the more he struggled, the more he realized it was in vain as the two forbidden lovers finally met each other, causing a massive bolt of electricity to charge the water.

Absorbing as much electricity as he could, and using the water as a conduit to help with the gathering, the Trace unit activated their Overloaders, dumping tons of electricity straight into Maxwell's head as he continued to struggle. The lights in the city began to flicker and dim as he began collecting power from their main sources, and with one final push, the Trace unit got Maxwell's last words out.

“BASTAAAAARD!!!”

The Trace unit finally let go of Maxwell's corpse, fried beyond recognition. Its Overcharge state was quickly canceled, its order complete with his death. The city was now much darker as it nearly caused a city-wide blackout. Turning around, the Trace unit began making its way back to base, now with much more information to process. Perhaps this tournament had much more behind the scenes than expected…

And, with one final signal, the Trace unit sent its progress back to the main frame.

“Mission Accomplished”

K.O.!

Boomstick: Huh, I think we’re gonna need to change the title of Maxie boys analysis…

Wiz: On the surface, Maxwell potentially had everything he needed to win this fight. Not only did he lack the ability to feel pain in the first place, but both his teleportation and blindness powers could sow enough chaos throughout the fight to take out the Trace units one by one.

Boomstick: Problem was, outside of their obvious weak points Maxwell found himself struggling to actually hurt them in the first place. They were both way stronger and tougher than Maxwell was, and their healing factor made it impossible for any damage Maxwell could do count unless he hit their battery.

Wiz: Additionally, they had way more options when it came to direct combat scenarios. Not only did they have actual firearms, their Vibro-Knife far outclassed Maxwells in just about every category and they had choices to keep Maxwell in place.

Boomstick: While he is immune to imprisonment, it's seemingly more so due to random events causing his freedom rather than an actual skill he can activate at will. Plus, the Traces even had barriers if he did get too close for their liking, immediately putting a stop to his assault.

Wiz: Even their teleportation outclassed Maxwells, being able to teleport to wherever they see or have seen. They didn’t necessarily need the Overcharged form in order to win this fight, as Maxwell's less than stellar stamina couldn’t keep up with the limitless charge of their batteries.

Boomstick: Maxwell was one hell of a fighter, but the Traces had everything they needed to put him back in his grave. Guess he just couldn’t Trace this army’s real skills, huh?

Wiz: Really, that’s the pun you came up with?

Boomstick: C’mon, it’s not easy coming up with them on the spot! Scout’s honor, I’ll come up with something with a bit more Maxie next time.

Wiz: Whatever. The winners are the Trace units.

Chapter Text

The day was bright, streams of sunlight glittering through the trees of the peaceful forest. It was a strange place, flora and fauna coexisting where they shouldn’t without seemingly any real problems.

Even so, the woman walking through them couldn’t help but be confused for an entirely different reason. She didn’t wear much of note, just a white T-shirt and black pants, her hair long, dark, messy, and with a lot of gel in it. Thalassophobia had been sent on a mission unlike many of her previous ones. Instead of wiping something off the map, she was instead instructed to investigate a strange anomaly. Apparently, several people of note that the government was keeping track of suddenly vanished. They had to make entirely new instruments just to get the faintest trace of where they went, and they showed some sort of temporal/spatial anomaly, starting on their world before going somewhere else.

That is, all except one. This trace led directly into the Forest of Ash, the massive forest she now found herself in. It got its name from the center supposedly being nothing but ash now, and it’s much more infamous for being guarded by a monster known as Chaos, along with an army of other corpses.

That’s the part that confused her, though. For how violent and aggressive they’ve been known to be towards intruders, they’ve instead been running around corralling, and seemingly talking, to various animals and trying to get them to leave in preparation for something. She couldn’t tell what they were talking about, since it was all just seemingly random clicks, chirps, and growls, but it all at the very least seemed urgent. One even ran straight into her, panicked, started chirping with what she assumed was fear on their face, before running away to continue their work.

It didn’t take much longer afterwards before the device she was using picked up the trail, leading directly to a mountain a mile away. Both corpses and animals thinned as she approached the massive piece of land, spotting a somewhat obscure pathway leading up the mountain into a small alcove barely visible from where she stood. The trail followed it all the way up, so followed it as well. It took a bit, but she eventually got to the small alcove and found a metal door blocking her path. At least, it would, if it wasn’t already opened.

From the inside she could hear the sounds of metal being scrapped together, electricity, and a lot of cursing from a strange, distorted voice. Walking in, she found herself in some sort of workshop, random bits of scrap metal, flesh, and wires strewn about the place haphazardly. Next to the door was a tall… dragon? Cat? She was very tall, covered in grey fur with cat ears, yet along her back were large spikes, going down her spine all the way to the tip of her thick, lizard-like tail. Across from them both was a shut, hastily made door where all the shouting was coming from.

“Oh, hey! Didn’t know Chaos called for some more help!”

Before Thal could even respond, the voice from behind the doors shouted back to them.

“I DIDN’T, TELL THEM TO FUCK OFF!”

“Okay, let me get one thing straight.” Thal took this chance to explain herself before things got violent. “My name is agent Drown, and I’m here investigating an anomaly that has been found where several people of government note have disappeared. The only trail we found leads to here, and I hope for your cooperation with this case.”

“Funny, since we’re checking it out as well! It took one of my friends, and Chaos back there is doing it because of someone named… Eggy?”

“EDGAR, THE FUCKING BASTARD!”

“Yeah, him. He’s been holed up in that room for the whole day trying to figure out a way to track them.”

Drown looked at the door, hearing more and more cursing coming from it as Chaos seemingly lost what remained of his sanity working on something. Looking down at the device she was carrying, she got an idea on how to solve both of their problems. Walking over to the door, despite Pikes warnings about not testing what little sanity Chaos had left, she opened it wide up and threw the device at the hunched over corpse before slamming the door shut to prevent him from immediately getting her.

“The researchers made that thing to track the strange anomalies. Should be helpful, right?”

She didn’t get a response, outside of the silence, before Chaos swore again and seemingly got back to work. Drown got the feeling that she definitely helped out with the project, so she pulled up a seat next to Pike and began waiting. She sent a message to the scientists, letting them know the situation. She looked Pike up and down, attempting to gauge her abilities. She was very clearly strong, just from how well-defined her muscles were, but she couldn’t quite get a grasp on the specifics.

“Hey, what’s your power level?”

“Not really sure, but I think it’s pretty high. Chaos, how about you?”

“Judging something based on raw stats is how several people lost to me!”

“Probably decent then.”

Drown propped herself onto the chair, crouching on top of it as she pondered their words. Didn’t really help narrow it down on how powerful they were, and the two were her only leads on the mission. Probably best to just leave it at that until the mission was over…

Chapter Text

Wiz: Mr. Blue, Ares greatest modern day warrior

Boomstick: Val Mateo, the Uncomen phasing teenager

Wiz: These two characters w̷̛̬̼͚̯̼͙̖̏̐̾̆̿i̴̘̜͎̠̝̬͆́ḻ̷̛͔̗͖̭̘̘̤̞̗̗̻̤͓͖̞̹̆̐̊̓͐̉̈́̈́̃̓͐͛̄͋͂̌́͠ͅͅļ̶̨̡̨̧̛̼̰̹̰̩̥͖͔̞͎͇̱̥͈̉̄͂́̓̅̈́͊̂͒̓͐̉̈̓̿̈͛̓͘̕͝͠͠ ̴̢̣̱̫̜̮͔̥͙̹̤̬̣̰̯̝̩͇͙͙̇̔̀̐̈́̒̓̌̌́b̷̧̢̭̻̳̭̫͖̙̪͓͎̘̪̜̜̺̭̝͖͈̳͚̓̒̔̐̌e̴̟̪̬̒̔̂̉͊̅͛̾̊͊̑͌̿̿͊̽̾̎̈́̊̅̚̚͝͝ ̵̢̧̛͙̱̟̥̠̼͂̽͌͌̔̍̊̍͛͊̀̎̐̇̄͠ͅt̸̢͙͙̠͛̂̈́̒͊̐̈́͆̏̔͋̄̎̓̚͠ë̶̛̛͇̭͖̫͉́̊̿̾̀̏̀̋̈́͌͛̐̈́̌s̴̢̪̾̕ͅt̵̛̛̺͍̘̥̪̝̜̩͎͙̼̗͔̲̱̖͎͓͎̫̗͂̒̊͋̅͂̂̑̆̈́̿͂͛͒͒̈́͊̐͗̍̀́͜͝ē̸̡̝̞͍̃͆̌̔͐̑́̀̈́̋̊̊̊͊͋̌͆͛̌̾̎̚d̵̛̛͙͖̯͍̍̏̿͆̅̈́̈́͛̃̒͂̿͂̀̊͌

Boomstick: He’s Wiz and I’m Boomstick!

Wiz: And we’ll analyze their weapons, armor and skills to find out who would win, a DEATH BATTLE!

Mr. Blue Brings The Action Back to DEATH BATTLE!

Wiz: With each new age comes a new form of combat. From the old days of boxing to the more recent drone ambushes, combat is a constantly changing existence, always improving itself with each generation of disciples.

Boomstick: But sometimes, you just can’t beat the classics, especially when you’re one of the oldest forms of ass-kicking to date! Ladies and gentlemen, meet Wrestling!

Wiz: Dating back to nearly twenty thousand years ago, saying that wrestling has had a lot of changes to the sport is an understatement of the highest degree. But, one thing is for sure: Nobody did it quite like the Greeks.

Boomstick: I mean, duh. They had one of their greatest heroes specialize in it after all! And they weren’t the only ones taking an interest in it, for on the mountain of olympus, the god of War was just as excited for a match as anyone else. That’s right, Ares is a WWE fanboy!

Wiz: This interest only grew as other forms of combat slowly began leaning more and more into his sister, Athena’s, domain. Gone were the days of just simple contests of strength and will, leaving Ares with no say in what he considered to now be boring wars.

Boomstick: Good thing wrestling still existed, and was no arguably more popular than ever! Especially with our favorite yellow spandex wearing, Slim Jim snapping, Kool-Aid man fighting “Macho Man” Randy Savage!

Wiz: This legendary warrior, at least in Ares’ eyes, inspired countless youth to take up their own stage names and join in on the carnage. Including one Bronson Bluetarch. After receiving a motivational speech from the man himself after a life of constant failures, Bronson found his purpose in life.

Boomstick: Who cares if he never got a girlfriend or passed the big exams? Not him, since he dedicated everything he could into becoming a pro wrestler. He spent tons of money on gym equipment, trainers, diets, eventually making it into the ring with the stage name: Bronson Blue! Wait, that’s not right…

Wiz: Well, that’s because his first match ended with him suffering a career ending injury. Despite everything, Bronson still failed to achieve his dreams. His hopes had all been shattered in an instant, now forced into a life of meaningless mediocrity.

Boomstick: Poor bastard was stuck in a dead-end job in a goddamn diaper factory! I don’t think there’s any turn of events that can break a mans will like that.

Wiz: Except, it didn’t. Even after five years of this toil, there still existed that spark within Bronson, the desire to fight and make a name for himself. That was when he was approached by Ares, the god of War, and offered a deal.

Boomstick: Yeah, remember how we mentioned that Ares had gotten bored with modern combat and had become a big fan of wrestling? Well, he figured that the best way to bring back the beauty of senseless violence was to get a champion of his own to do it for him!

Wiz: In return for his dreams, Bronson would become Ares greatest warrior, constantly fighting for the cheers of the crowd, living his old life behind for one of constant violence under the new name: Mr. Blue.

Boomstick: Ohoho, NOW we’re talking! Bronson took this deal in a heartbeat, of course, and Ares wasn’t holding anything back with the upgrades. Enhanced strength, durability, and stamina were just the basics, since he also gave the big guy the ability to teleport to help track down foes, though he often forgets to use it in the middle of a fight.

Wiz: He’s also been heavily trained by pro-wrestling monks, for some reason those exist, and is capable of using any wrestling based martial arts in a fight. 

Boomstick: We have our classical Greco-Roman style, focusing on throwing your opponent around like a doll, then there’s the more well-known Submission style that focuses on what's in the name.

Wiz: That’s far from all. Other wrestling styles we can assume he’s capable of using include Judo, Sambo, and Puroresu, which mixes in kickboxes with the grapples.

Boomstick: All enhanced with various wrestling themed magical artifacts! Like a sentient table he can summon at will, a chair made of actual nightmares that can target the soul, and even a magical luchador mask that turns him into Senor Azul!

Wiz: This, of course, makes him a pro at the Lucha Libre style of wrestling, which focuses on aerial blows and trades strength for high speed, even going fast enough to break the sound barrier!

Boomstick: But if he needs a boost to power, he has a protein shake made of pure, weapons grade uranium! Sure it gives him indigestion, but who cares when it multiplies his strength tenfold!

Wiz: With all these skills, artifacts, and weapons, Mr. Blue began his quest: Beat the living shit out of literally anyone and anything that won a title and take it for himself. From the literal biggest fish in a small pond to actual dictators winning rigged elections.

Boomstick: Who’s guards then proceeded to open fire on him, which he dodged! In order to do so, he’d need to react at double Mach speed, and there was an entire trained guard unit firing at him!

Wiz: Far from his most impressive feat, however. Without his protein shake he was capable of leveling Madison Square Garden in a clash with someone else of equal strength, bench-press nearly five thousand pounds for a thousand reps as a warm-up, and the energy he gains when consuming his protein shake is enough to destroy a massive prison complex.

Boomstick: Basing it on Rikers island, he would be destroying almost 5.5 MILLION meters. Given that a single ton of TNT can destroy a meter, he’d be dishing out power equal to the bomb we dropped on Hiroshima times 250 THOUSAND!

Wiz: While it’s unlikely Bronson can unleash much of this power through physical combat alone, it is still incredibly impressive since he not only drinks these protein shakes, but he’s even survived it all blowing up inside of him and falling from orbit.

Boomstick: He’s even comparable to Ronda Riot, another wrestler who kicked the ass of the literal goddess of Greco-Roman wrestling, and when it came time to kick Ares’s ass, he got the ultimate Pro Wrestling weapon: THE CHAIR TM !

Wiz: This mythical artifact seemingly made of pure gold is not only completely indestructible, but any foe who makes painful contact with the chair is forced to “sell” the attack.

Boomstick: Selling is basically just overreacting to a hit to “sell” how much it hurt, except THE CHAIR makes it really hurt no matter who you are!

Wiz: Even gods aren’t immune to this defense ignoring weapon, Ares’s himself falling after a few hits like he was an ordinary human being hit with an ordinary chair, even though he was completely and utterly immune to any attack not made by the rest of the pantheon.

Boomstick: With all of the greatest strengths of pro wrestlers, it’s a wonder he loses at all!... Except for the fact he also has all their weaknesses.

Wiz: Outside of the fairly obvious low IQ, that special shake of his does give him indigestion, he refuses to fight women, and often forgets to use some techniques when they’re needed most, like his aforementioned teleportation to dodge attacks.

Boomstick: But who cares about all that when Mr. Blue is one of the greatest wrestlers, if not the greatest wrestler in all of history! Doesn’t matter who or what you are, fish, pageant queen, or ruthless dictator. So long as you got a title Mr. Blue wants, you better watch your back before this blue skinned champion power bombs you through a table! And then does it two more times just for good measure.

Val Mateo Brings The Style Back to DEATH BATTLE!

Wiz: What is the driving force of one's soul? What continues to push someone on and on despite every hardship, every trauma, one may face? Such an answer eludes many who have found themselves lost in their world, their very existence a question.

Boomstick: Unless you were like me and born in the south! Cuz there we got good ‘ol Jesus to fall back on, at least when you don’t have much else going on. But man, do people really mess up his teachings.

Wiz: Such was the case for a small, rural town where the church was law. Every day was meant to be lived under their teachings, no matter who you were. And when you’re nonbinary, their teachings meant your very existence was a crime. Such was the life of Val Mateo.

Boomstick: Yeah, if my momma was there she’d raise hell for the kid. No, seriously, unlike Val’s shitty mom who constantly abused them, mine would powerbomb the pope if she caught even the faintest whiff of the shit that went on in that town.

Wiz: Not only was Val nonbinary, but their flashy behavior tied to their pollyannic personality was seen as obscene and unholy, and they constantly found themselves in public confessions for every little perceived mistake. Every waking moment for Val was of fear that they would be tortured eternally just for hating this agonizing cycle.

Boomstick: Fortunately, God was very much listening to their prayers, and being the absolute nutcase you see him be the the bible, he made their mom and stepdad get into a crash and kill them both . He does not mess around sometimes…

Wiz: Ostracized by the town and traumatized by the event, Val was left with only one option: moving in with their real father after years of never seeing him. And so, their life began anew, now living with their loving father in his bakery and repressing the memories of their abuse.

Boomstick: Plus, he even got a step-brother when his dad married again, and just because Onyx was a sour-puss didn’t stop them from trying to build a healthy relationship. They even helped him find random objects for Onyx to tinker with.

Wiz: That was, until the day Val found a strange computer and took it to their brother, finding the AI known as CAIMEO, which soon sent its location to the ruler of the underground country Agartha and put both the kids and their parents' lives in danger.

Boomstick: With their parents killed in the raid and saved by the mysterious Spargo Wohlfahrt and Madison Graves from Agarthas rival country Lemuria, the two began their training to put a stop to whatever evils they would face. Made a whole lot easier since they were both Uncomen!

Wiz: Uncomen are rare, using Eldritch Energy as a type of Ki to perform various actions. Everything from strengthening their bodies to unique techniques, Eldritch Energy is incredibly versatile. For Val, that means gaining the ability to phase through inanimate objects at will through the power called Nothing.

Boomstick: While it won’t work against other people, Val can still phase through objects pretty reliably to duck and dodge out of the way of attacks, or get in sneaky hits themselves through walls, the floor, and even through weapons!

Wiz: In fact, should Val deactivate their ability while within something, so long as it’s smaller than them they can actually store it within themselves with no ill effect, and if it’s bigger, then it’ll violently fragment outwards from their body.

Boomstick: Which would be very helpful in combating the forces at work. With a fighting style based on Lucha Libres mixed with boxing, Val proved themselves to be one hell of a fighter. From their generals to their legendary Black Knight, Val would kick their asses six ways to sunday.

Wiz: Impressive, since Val had punched Supra, the aforementioned Black Knight, so hard it sunk antarctica, previously calculated (By u/NotKyotoMyDude) to be worth 21 Petatons of TNT, and was capable of keeping up with Spargo, who could run at Mach 129! (by u/NotKyotoMyDude).

Boomstick: But, if Val’s looking to get a bit more lethal in their options, they always got a Macuahuitl stored in their body, ready to pop out at a moment's notice! These things, originally made before the Aztecs even existed, are large wooden clubs with a shit ton of obsidian blades all around it, kinda like a sword. Except, instead of just cutting, it also bashes!

Wiz: And while all these abilities make Val a powerful opponent, they aren’t perfect. For example, as we mentioned their phasing ability can not work with organic matter, and they can only store so many objects within themselves before something has to go. Plus, their skill with their only actual weapon is… lacking, to say the least.

Boomstick: Eh, what’s it matter? Val is still a badass, even with their weaknesses, and god help whoever decides to get on his bad side. Hell, doing that is a challenge all by itself, so I doubt even the big man upstairs is gonna have your back for that fight.

Intermission

Wiz: Alright, the combatants are set and we’ve run the data through all possibilities.

Boomstick: It’s time for a DEATH BATTLE!

Pre-Fight

  Today… hasn’t been a good one for Val. Their coffee colored skin shone faintly beneath the lazy sun, as clouds strolled by covering it every half hour. Not only were they and their brother tricked, but Val lost him as Onyx rushed out of the empty arena in fury. No matter where they looked, they couldn’t find any information about Onyx’s whereabouts. Not to mention that nothing looked familiar…

Val sighed, leaning back on the bench they found themselves on and stuck their hand in their white leather jeans, their somewhat long, messy hair covering one of their eyes. Fortunately, there was a park near where they paused their search efforts, and the steady stream in front of them beyond the pathway was a great background noise for their thoughts to collect themselves. But the more they thought about today’s events, the less they made sense, and the more the background noise of the park invaded their mind and interrupted their thoughts.

But as Val got up to continue their search efforts, a sudden explosion and the scent of beef jerky caught their attention, their red crop-top jacket flailing about from the aftershock of the explosion. Only a few meters away, emerging from the smokey explosion was… Well, they weren’t sure what exactly to make of the person that came from the explosion. Their bright, purple jacket with tassles under their arms, followed by their shorts, tall boots, and even short, wavy hair with similar colors. Most striking, though, was their blue skin that caught the eye even through their WWE uniform. 

“ OH YEAH , NOW WE’RE TALKING!”

As the tall, muscular Mr. Blue saw Val, he quickly approached the youth, making Val realize just how much bigger he was compared to them. Pulling out a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket, Mr. Blue checked the poorly drawn image of Val compared to the real person and decided it was a good enough match.

“Uh, do I know you?”

“The names Mr. Blue, kid! You’re one of the tournament participants, right? So am I! Even though it was a trick, I’m still in a fighting mood. So, how about a quick tussle, Pollyanic?”

Val froze up, concerned that this complete stranger knew about their condition, backing up a bit and putting their guard up.

“Not sure what a Pollyanic is, but all that matters is that it’s a title you got, so I’m gonna take it from ya! Oh yeah !”

Val paused once again, now thoroughly confused. Was this guy seriously just after their title named after their personality? That’s not even how their titles worked! But, as Mr. Blue got his own body ready, arms outstretched like he was preparing to give the most painful bear hug imaginable, Val figured talking with someone that crazy would be a lost cause, at least for now. So, Val prepared themselves, adopting a pose reminiscent of Lucha Libres, and got ready for one hell of a fight.

FIGHT!

Mr. Blue immediately took the initiative once his opponent was seemingly ready, charging forward in an attempt to grapple Val, who jumped up and clambered over him, dodging the mighty bear hug as Mr. Blue grabbed a tree right behind Val, crushing it in his grip. The massive man quickly turned around, attempting to grab Val once again with one of his hands. Val once again danced away from the attack, and as Mr. Blue continued to give chase, Val found themselves against a tree, with seemingly nowhere left to run.

“Gotcha!”

Mr. Blue once again reached for Val’s throat, only to miss as Val ducked beneath his arm and tackled him. Mr. Blue found himself pushed back by the Uncomans surprising strength, and backed up a bit to reassess the situation. Taking this chance to turn the tables, Val quickly hopped onto the tree’s trunk and launched themselves at Mr. Blue, grappling the large man's torso and sending the two quickly hurtling out of the park.

Now on the bustling, yet oddly empty city streets, Val saw as the two quickly lost momentum, Mr. Blue digging his feet into the ground to slow their travel and picking up Val themselves by their waist. Before Val could struggle, Mr. Blue performed a favorite of his: The Blue Bomb, lifting Val up over his head before slamming them into the asphalt and kicking up a ton of dust. Taking a couple steps back while the dust settled, Mr. Blue took off his retro shades in confusion as his opponent had disappeared in the smoke.

As Mr. Blue looked around themselves, putting their shades back on, he was suddenly chopped from behind. Swinging an arm behind him while the other held his neck, Mr. Blue found nothing behind him, only adding to the confusion as he was smacked from behind again. Mr. Blue continued to swing his arms about, trying to catch Val as they popped in and out of the sewer system below to get shots off, phasing through the solid stone to do so. Eventually, however, Mr. Blue managed to catch sight of Val sinking into the ground.

A slight smirk formed on the wrestler's lips, crumpling his hands into balls before smashing them into the ground. It took a second, but cracks quickly began to form across the asphalt before it all collapsed into the sewers, forcing Val to jump back and avoid being crushed underneath. Mr. Blue, instead of charging like he usually did, began throwing the large stones caused by the collapse at Val, who was forced to time his phasings to avoid being crushed. Opting to get into a more open area, Val quickly leapt up through the ceiling and back up onto the streets.

Val was relieved to be smelling the “fresh” air, at least compared to an actual sewer system. This relief was short lived, however, as Mr. Blue followed Val, crashing through the ground. Except, now he was completely shirtless besides a flowing cape behind him and wearing a Luchador mask. Mr. Blue, now Senor Azule, was now flying much faster than Val expected, the two grappling in the air before crashing into an office building.

Both people and paper began being flung around in a panic as the two continued to tussle. Val was certain their opponent was faster now, being picked up from behind before being suplexed into a spontaneously appearing table, which Val swears said something along the lines of “NOT AGAIN!” before being destroyed. Picking themselves back up, the two continued their strength based brawl for a bit longer, their muscles aching as they blocked

“¡Oye, chico, eres bastante bueno con esto!”

“¡Oh, bueno, gracias!”

“¡Ahora vamos a llevar las cosas a otro nivel!”

Before Val could ask what they meant, Senor Azule broke off of the scuffle, summoning to himself a metal folding chair that was covered in screaming faces: The Chair of Infinite Nightmares. Val did their best to back away from the sudden onslaught as Senor Azule wielded the odd weapon with master precision. As Val took another step back, Senor Azule suddenly swung the weapon straight down onto Vals head as they attempted to phase through the chair. But as they did, their power failed as the weapon connected, causing a massive spike of pain to be sent straight through them, along with their soul.

Reeling from the attack, Senor Azule continued his assault, beating Val senseless before Val found another opening, shoving Senor Azule away. With the little time they got from the action, Val reached up to his head, their own weapon phasing through their body and out their head. A massive, thin club-like object covered in sharp obsidian is what Val pulled out. Two handing the Macuahuitl, the two clashed once again, attempting another power struggle. Their muscles ached, their feet ground against the floor as it began cracking under their feet. The clash broke once again, the two swinging wildly at each other.

By hopping over another one of Senor Azules swings, Val found their opening, stabbing their weapon into the ground and using it to vault themselves over, kicking Senor Azule in the face and subsequently knocking his Luchador mask off his head. Mr. Blue flew through the air, falling almost in slow motion, before landing on the floor and cracking it. Val leaned on their weapon for a moment, catching their breath as Mr. Blue got, rather shakily, back up. He could feel his aching bones scream out in pain with each breath, but Mr. Blue ignored their words, and prepared his next moves.

As the burly wrestler reached one of his hands above him, Val got the immediate feeling of something coming, something powerful. With their hastily gathered strength, Val charged Mr. Blue, swinging the Macuahuitl down onto Bronson as a massive flash of light appeared between them.

Val slowly blinked away the blindness from their eyes, seeing what had caused the light in the first place. Now in Mr. Blues hands was a brilliant gold folding chair, and in his other was a strange glowing protein shake that he finished chugging, tossing the empty cup aside as his body began to faintly glow with radiation. It was such an odd sight that Val didn’t even notice that his weapon had completely shattered from the impact, which was quickly rectified as Mr. Blue began his counter attack and Val attempted to shield themselves from it.

Starting with a powerful swing of THE CHAIR into a midsection, Val felt much more, eye watering pain, like he had lost all their strength and was back in high school before everything happened and just got smacked in the stomach with a steel folding chair. As they doubled over, Mr. Blue swung THE CHAIR upwards, catching Val on their jaw as they felt their bones crack from the impact and were sent flying through the ceiling. Followed by the next, and the next, and many others before they finally smashed through the roof, falling painfully back onto the building.

Val rolled around on the stone rooftop, getting on their back and feeling their jaw. Yep, definitely broken, and Val barely had enough time to get on their feet and spit out their pooling blood when they heard the all-too familiar catchphrase. 

“OH YEAH!”

Coming from the freshly made holes was Mr. Blue, THE CHAIR still in hand as he landed on the rooftop, looking down on Val, who was hunched over and wiping the blood from their mouth. Mr. Blue could feel the shakes energy course through his veins, and only got more excited as Val stood straight up and began hopping around a bit, clearly ready to end this battle.

“Alright Mr.-”

“Mcsh…”

“What?”

Val coughed out some more blood before speaking again.

“Non-binary. Mx. is what you’re looking for.”

Alrighty then, Mx. Pollyannic. You’ve been sent flying by me, Mr. Blue, through a bunch of Pollyattics, and ya still wanna tussle with the champ? I respect that, so let’s end this battle real quick like!”

Val raised their hands in a pseudo boxing stance, a smile growing on their face matching the one on Mr. Blues. The two cracked their knuckles, their necks, and once again clashed on the rooftop. The two warriors pushed against each other with all their strength, THE CHAIR acting as a focal point for their pressure. The rooftop cracked and groaned under the stress, THE CHAIR between them slowly heating up more and more until it seared their skin. Both reeled back from the pain, but only for a moment as the two locked their hands with each other. The building continued to crack and break, eventually splitting in half as their strength fought against each other. Yet, who would win the struggle was slowly becoming more and more clear as Mr. Blue found himself being pushed back, his feet scratching across the stone as he struggled to keep his place.

Before he could be fully overpowered, however, Mr. Blue had one of his rare ideas. Instead of just simply holding his ground, he now pulled back, lifting Val off their feet before spinning them around until they got dizzy, a small tornado forming from the speed that instantly dissipated as Mr. Blue launched his foe towards the sky, quickly following the Uncoman by leaping off the now falling piece of building.

Val, who had just recovered from nearly throwing up, watched as he passed several clouds, even going through one, which was a very strange feeling. Looking down, Val watched as Mr. Blue quickly gained on them, their legs outstretched in a flying dropkick aimed straight for Vals chest. Val could feel their fear rising, as without any solid footing there was seemingly no way to dodge such a devastating attack. But the memories of their friends, their family, and their still missing brother, they all echoed within their head. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, as Val closed their eyes, took a deep breath, and found an opening.

Just as Mr. Blue reached Val, The Pollyannic rotated their body just enough to dodge the attack, reeling back their fist and slamming it straight into Mr. Blues face, sending the wrestler hurtling straight back down through the clouds as Val began hitting the peak of their ascent. Val breathed what little air they could get this high up, before they heard the familiar voice of their opponent… above them?

“OH YEAH!”

Val turned around, only to be caught by Mr. Blues cross chop as he hurtled down from the heavens and tackled Val. Mr. Blue had teleported far above Val, using the already gained momentum and whatever he gained from the higher starting point to essentially divebomb Val, the two hurtling down as their bodies began heating up from the reentry. Val coughed up more blood as his body struggled against the attack. Their vision blurred, yet they knew they couldn’t give up from this fight. And yet, Mr. Blues voice still reached him.

“LISTEN, POLLYANNIC! THIS IS WHAT WRESTLING’S ALL ABOUT! THE CONTESTS OF STRENGTH, SPEED, AND SKILL TO FIND OUT WHO’S THE BEST! WE PULL OUT EVERY OUNCE OF ENERGY WE HAVE TO WIN THE FIGHT, AND I CAN STILL FEEL YA HOLDING OUT ON ME! SO, LET ME HAVE IT! SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!”

This… utter lunatic, who had gotten into a fight with Val out of nowhere, was giving him a motivational speech? What’s more, it came from Mr. Blues heart, from the very depths of his soul, and it reached Vals own. Gritting their teeth, Val found their hands and grabbed his opponents arms, slowly prying them off before kicking Mr. Blue in the face. Val twisted their body around, holding Mr. Blue in a headlock until they got close enough to the ground. Then, he leaped off the damaged wrestlers body, flying through the air as Mr. Blue crashed into the ground, creating a massive crater.

Once the pain somewhat subsided, Mr. Blue tried to pick himself, only to find his body failing to respond to any of his commands. Looking below him, he saw the golden sheen of THE CHAIR, and realized he must have fallen on it when he crashed, THE CHAIR breaking his spine on impact. He struggled more and more in vain, only stopping when he saw a familiar shadow standing on the tallest still intact building, facing away from him. Val looked at Mr. Blue, and gave him a curt smile before turning back around and holding out their hand to the sky, their pointer finger held out.

“ ¡UNO!”

Val leapt high up into the air, higher than the clouds themselves. And yet, their voice still rang out through the empty city.

“¡DOS!”

Val quickly began rocketing straight downwards, doing almost a full backflip before getting into a pose much more similar to skydiving. Mr. Blue watched the descent, and immediately recognized the move: The Moonsault. The wrestler smiled, before outrighting laughing as he watched the incredible move be performed on him. Val picked up more and more speed, eventually reaching terminal velocity and slamming into Mr. Blue at full force, annihilating several blocks of the city with the impact alone.

“ Tres…”

Val slowly got back up, their entire body aching in pain as the dust slowly settled from their fight. Their breaths were shallow and shaky, but they were alive. Suddenly, they heard a groan from behind them, and quickly turned around, only to see Mr. Blue still on the ground, coughing up blood and unable to move. Their glasses had broken, allowing one of his eyes to look directly at Val.

“Hey…kid...Mind coming over here for a sec?”

Val was cautious, but as they could see no way for Mr. Blue to harm them, they slowly approached the dying wrestler, hearing their final words. 

“You’re really one hell of a fighter… reminded me a lot of myself when I was younger with some of those moves… you’d make a great Lucha Libre… Fantasma Rojo…”

And so, Mr. Blue died with a smile on his lips, proud that he could inspire one more person to give it their all like his own hero before his death. Val crouched down, closing their foes eyes as tears began forming in their own. It was strange, Val barely knew this man, but their passion burned like a star, and that speech before made it clear that he was a good person, if quite brash. Val removed a good person from the world, but the title Mr. Blue gave them with his dying breath would follow Val, and they would wear it with pride going forward.

K.O.!

Boomstick: Now THAT’S what I call wrestling!

Wiz: While Val's clear stat advantage may have made this fight seem clear cut, it was far from it.

Boomstick: Don’t get us wrong, that stat advantage was MASSIVE! Val was working with about twice as many zeros than Mr. Blue, and even when powered up by his Lucha Libra mask could only hypothetically react at around Mach 20 at most, while Val could go at Mach 129! That’s six times faster than a hypothetical reaction time for Mr. Blue!

Wiz: However, Mr. Blue had plenty of advantages of his own that would let him keep up. Not only was he much more skilled and experienced than Val when it came to combat, his wide variety of magical artifacts genuinely could have netted him a win in the right situation.

Boomstick: Like his two chairs, both of which could bypass Val’s intangibility, the Chair of Infinite Nightmares being used against ghosts and targeting one's soul, while THE CHAIR could be used against the gods, who had similar phasing powers as Val. A few hits from those, and Val would be totally screwed.

Wiz: Not to mention, their intangibility failing against other humans is a very noticeable weakness when their opponent’s, as well as Val’s, fighting style revolves around being close and using wrestling techniques. Safe to say, Val’s intangibility would have very little use in this fight.

Boomstick: Thing is, all this relies on Mr. Blue getting reliable hits in, and he’s already shown to be lacking in the whole planning department. Hell, his ability to teleport can’t even be counted as a strength since he almost always forgets to use it in a fight.

Wiz: Combined with Val’s incredible speed and strength advantage, Mr. Blue would inevitably find himself defeated more times than not, despite his several advantages.

Boomstick: Guess this Azule fighter left rivers of his own Rojo flowing once he fought The Pollyannic. Hopefully he rests in peace up in that big ‘ol wrestling ring in the sky…

Wiz: The winner is Val Mateo.

Chapter Text

It would have been a nice day for Sol, if it wasn’t for a certain asshole causing problems again. It was the weekend, people were looking to celebrate promotions, and his bar would have gotten a ton of profit. He stomped through the forest, the light passing through the leaves showing his beige sweater, blue jeans, brown hair, and burning orange eyes, pissed that it all went to shit because a certain pain in his ass couldn’t clean up after himself. He was so pissed, he didn’t even notice the army of corpses running about like headless chickens preparing for something until one ran headfirst into him. Before Sol could even say anything, they clicked at him in a panic before running off.

Confused, Sol looked around, seeing how chaotic his surroundings were. But, if Chaos’s army was busy, that just meant it’d be easier to kick his ass once he finds him. Getting back up, Sol spotted the distant mountain where Chaos mentioned having a workshop. When he got his hands on that rotting bastard…

Pike sighed, even more bored than before. Chaos had been working non-stop in isolation, and the other girl waiting didn’t make much conversation, although she did keep looking Pike up and down. She had no idea what he was doing, but still wished he could do it faster. Leaning back in her seat, she looked up at the ceiling again, only to focus back on reality as she heard someone walking outside, rather hurriedly too. She was about to stand up and check who it was, only to watch as Sol kicked the door open, snapping it off his hinges and causing it to splinter against the wall.

“CHAOS, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE I TOLD YOU TO STOP LEAVING CORPSES NEXT TO MY BUISENESS!”

Pike didn’t even get a word in before Chaos responded.

“FUCK OFF I’M BUSY!”

Sol, ignoring the two other people in the waiting room, slammed open the door to the room Chaos was working in and walked in. Pike didn’t exactly know what happened, but all it took was a few seconds before the two started fighting, shouting things about dimensional travel, the smell of rotting corpses, sensitive technology, and police investigations. Both her and Drown walked into the utter mess of a room, and it was clear it was like that before the fight.

A bunch of scattered metal, wiring, and other mechanical things littered not just the floor, but the walls and ceiling as well. In the center of it all, the two immortals fought on the floor, grabbing and punching each other (Biting in Chaos’s case) while arguing. The two sensible people in the room watched them for a bit, before Pike spoke up.

“Okay, let’s just all calm down here for a second, okay?”

The two stopped mid punch, looking up at Pike as if they just noticed her.

“Oh, hey Pike, and other lady, when’d you guys get here?”

Chaos shoved Sol off of him, and immediately got back to work on whatever he was trying to make.

“As I was saying, Sol, this shit is delicate and we need it to figure out what the hell is going on with this tournament, and I’m already close to killing something because THIS STUPID THING WON’T WORK!”

Sol just looked at him confused, before Pike caught him back up on the situation.

“Yeah, sounds suspicious. Was wondering where Pedro went. You mentioned someone named Edgar?”

“Yeah, though Chaos hasn’t explained who they are…”

As the two talked, Drown stepped over whatever Chaos wasn’t working on, looking for any problems with the machinery.

“I do. Met him a few times, before he went genocidal. Pretty chill guy, if a bit off putting. But after he tried to end the world, Chaos and a couple of his friends put him down. I try to help keep an eye out every time that bastard claws his way out of hell, since I still very much enjoy existing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Guess that explains the commotion outside. But Edgar joined the tournament? He may have gone crazy, but that’s not something I imagine him joining without an end goal.”

“Exactly. Whatever that asshole is planning, it ain’t good, and he’s definitely looking to get a power-up from the tournament somehow. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen then…”

Whatever Chaos was working on suddenly short circuited, causing him to curse and double-down on his efforts in getting it to work. Meanwhile, Drown found a couple of disconnected cables, fixing them up since they seemed important. Once she did, the device Chaos was working on suddenly roared to life, tearing a hole in space-time for the group to go through.

“Finally! Quickly, we don’t know how long it’ll last!”

Pike and Drown were the first to go through it, quickly hopping into the extradimensional portal as the technology increased in instability. Sol got ready to hop through next, Chaos making sure the portal didn’t collapse, but as his arm reached through it, a sudden massive malfunction occurred, causing the portal to instantly close on it and severing his arm.

“MOTHERFU-!”

Sol fell backwards, clutching his severed arm as Chaos desperately tried to get the machine up and running again. Sol’s vision slowly blurred and darkened, before he passed out from blood loss, watching Chaos uselessly try to fix the machine.

Drown tried again and again to reach the people back at the government, only to get static each time, while Pike continued surveying their location, flying up to get a better view. Wherever the machine had sent them, it was some sort of dense jungle, albeit cold and dry compared to their usual climate.

“Hey, cat-girl. See where we are yet?”

“Not anywhere I recognize, and the names Pike! Sorry for not mentioning it earlier.”

Drown’s own worry only increased. Not only did that nutjob of a corpse mess up his own device, he sent them somewhere they didn’t recognize in the slightest with no way back. Plus, the other guys arm sitting on the ground did not help with the atmosphere.

“Hey, I think I see something! It looks like… a colosseum?”

“Nothing else?”

“Nope.”

“Alright, I guess we’ll head there to figure out the situation. Which way?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get us there!”

Before Drown could ask what she meant, Pike quickly swooped down and picked her up, carrying her to the distant colosseum. Even with how fast she was going, Pike was making slow progress reaching their destination. Just one thing after another for Drown to deal with…

Chapter Text

Wiz: Katrina, the literal personification of hurricane Katrina.

Boomstick: Edgar, the metaphorical personification of the end.

Wiz: These two characters w̷̛̬̼͚̯̼͙̖̏̐̾̆̿i̴̘̜͎̠̝̬͆́ḻ̷̛͔̗͖̭̘̘̤̞̗̗̻̤͓͖̞̹̆̐̊̓͐̉̈́̈́̃̓͐͛̄͋͂̌́͠ͅͅļ̶̨̡̨̧̛̼̰̹̰̩̥͖͔̞͎͇̱̥͈̉̄͂́̓̅̈́͊̂͒̓͐̉̈̓̿̈͛̓͘̕͝͠͠ ̴̢̣̱̫̜̮͔̥͙̹̤̬̣̰̯̝̩͇͙͙̇̔̀̐̈́̒̓̌̌́b̷̧̢̭̻̳̭̫͖̙̪͓͎̘̪̜̜̺̭̝͖͈̳͚̓̒̔̐̌e̴̟̪̬̒̔̂̉͊̅͛̾̊͊̑͌̿̿͊̽̾̎̈́̊̅̚̚͝͝ ̵̢̧̛͙̱̟̥̠̼͂̽͌͌̔̍̊̍͛͊̀̎̐̇̄͠ͅt̸̢͙͙̠͛̂̈́̒͊̐̈́͆̏̔͋̄̎̓̚͠ë̶̛̛͇̭͖̫͉́̊̿̾̀̏̀̋̈́͌͛̐̈́̌s̴̢̪̾̕ͅt̵̛̛̺͍̘̥̪̝̜̩͎͙̼̗͔̲̱̖͎͓͎̫̗͂̒̊͋̅͂̂̑̆̈́̿͂͛͒͒̈́͊̐͗̍̀́͜͝ē̸̡̝̞͍̃͆̌̔͐̑́̀̈́̋̊̊̊͊͋̌͆͛̌̾̎̚d̵̛̛͙͖̯͍̍̏̿͆̅̈́̈́͛̃̒͂̿͂̀̊͌

Boomstick: He’s Wiz and I’m Boomstick!

Wiz: And together we’ll analyze their weapons, armor, and skills to find out who would win, a DEATH BATTLE!

Katrina whirlwinds into Death Battle!

Wiz: The world is full of disasters. From small businesses being robbed and scammed to nuclear meltdowns and oil releases, hundreds of thousands of lives can be ruined or lost all thanks to a single event.

Boomstick: And with natural disasters, it’s a lot more painful since there’s no one you could blame it on. What, you’re gonna sue the tsunami that broke your apartment? Get into a fistfight with that tornado? Trust me, I’ve already tried, and it never ended well.

Wiz: But what if, you could? What if every single natural disaster had its own personification, a being that held all of the event's power in the palm of their hands. That is what the alternate world known as Catastrophica deals in. From Pompei to the Haiti earthquake, every single natural disaster births a being that embodies the terrible event.

Boomstick: Thing is, a lot of them are a lot better than the events that spawned them, like Katrina, embodiment of the hurricane of the same name.

Wiz: Taking the form of a woman in her mid-thirties, Katrina is incredibly powerful, and even more protective of other hurricane-based people as a sort of surrogate mother figure. And considering that at its highest, the real life hurricane Katrina could cover entire states with its size, she’s more than enough to take out any threats.

Boomstick: We mean all the powers, too. Just like how a volcano might give someone fire powers, Katrina has such great control of the wind she can topple states and destroy continents with enough focus, or even change what state of matter her body is in, allowing for much greater evasive capabilities.

Wiz: She can even control nearby sources of water, likely to the same extent as hurricanes are known to cause massive floods, and high wind is the cause of other natural disasters like rogue waves, tsunamis, and even water spouts.

Boomstick: She’s also pretty smart, especially when it comes to a fight, and combined with her ability to fly she’s a real threat to anyone dumb enough to test her. Hell, she can even make herself as big as a skyscraper or just turn into an actual hurricane!

Wiz: She’s also fast enough to cross the entire atlantic ocean in half a minute! This would put her speed, at max, more than mach 6! Not to mention, when she fought a giant golem she was able to take hits that could “topple countries”.

Boomstick: All because she’s made of one of the planet's most common elements. No, really, she’s actually made of wind! It’s how she can do her weirder powers like turning into a gas or becoming a giant hurricane!

Wiz: Of course, this comes with its problems. Being made out of wind has made her vulnerable to being physically manipulated by others who could do the same, and just like how certain weather effects struggle to do damage depending on the terrain, mountainous areas or locations that hinder the flow of wind in general can cause a massive decrease in her overall power.

Boomstick: But fuck around, and you’ll find out real fast she won’t need them to beat your ass. Cuz from coast to coast, ocean to ocean, she’ll protect anyone that needs her help. Mess with one disaster, and you’ll have an entire catastrophe to deal with.

Edgar Brings the End to Death Battle!

Wiz: Life is simple. Predictable. Each day, in and out, the same as ever. And once things become predictable, one seeks the ability to make it exciting once again, and hundreds of thousands of different people have all tackled giving life the excitement it deserves.

Boomstick: From artists to writers, musicians to clowns, there’s a little something for everyone. But sometimes, you want to see something you don’t really understand. Something that can’t exist. Something… magical.

Wiz: Sure, magicians and illusionists exist, but it’s all merely smoke and mirrors. To the average person in one reality, magic is no more than a figment of one's imagination. But, what if it wasn’t? What if making the impossible a reality was a certified fact one could achieve? 

Boomstick: Might just sound like your average fantasy, but hop a couple realities and it’s very much actual reality. Mixing both modern day tech and high class magic, this unnamed dimension had it all. Well, we say it doesn’t have a name, but anyone experienced in dimensional travel knows it as Chaos’s turf.

Wiz: A dangerous and volatile individual, with a soul not even the gods could manipulate or change, Chaos acted as a sort of additional ward, since no one wanted to risk an unkillable monster haunting them for the rest of existence. But, that’s not who we’re talking about today.

Boomstick: Yeah, instead we’re talking about his second in command and best friend, Edgar! 

Wiz: Despite what his goat legs might tell you, they’re merely just a modification to his being as a living corpse, a cadaver controlled by a soul. In Edgars case, he had met his end being an average raven from… being hit with a rock from a kid on accident. Wow.

Boomstick: Hey, rocks are more dangerous than you think! Besides, he surprisingly didn’t hold any ill intent towards either the kid or their family after Chaos helped him out with becoming another Living Corpse for Chaos’s army!

Wiz: In fact, Edgar was the complete opposite of Chaos in many ways. From his calm, even sometimes outright friendly demeanor, to the very way he fights. While Chaos always preferred getting up close and personal, Edgar began studying Magic.

Boomstick: And not just your average RPG or Harry Potter magic either. Cuz in reality, all of them in fact, Magic is literally what defines one's existence. 

Wiz: Magic is an incredibly volatile source of power, constantly changing before eventually settling down into more tangible forms, such as the atoms that make up our planets, the DNA in our body, or even the very structure of one's soul. All of it is dictated at random by Magic.

Boomstick: But you all know what its main use is! That’s right, spells! Edgars study made him a pro at controlling the innate magic of reality, turning any unstable magic into very tangible, and often painful, attacks.

Wiz: Edgar prefers his usage of earth Magic for combat, twisting the terrain to suit his needs. Everything from walls to spikes, or even trapping someone in a stone coffin before crushing them flat. He can even sense vibrations in it to track foes or map out entire cave systems in minutes.

Boomstick: And he’s got a lot more than just that. He’s basically mastered every form of magic there is besides the more risky temporal and spatial types. He can control and create water, wind, and fire, see through illusions, fly, create barriers and protective runes, and even see one's soul and interact with it! Even without it, he can still kick the average person's ass as other, less powerful corpses can throw around cars with no issue!

Wiz: In fact, he’s even described as a prodigy by some of the greatest sorcerers in his world. And yet, Edgar never felt… complete. There was always something missing, something greater that called to him. So, with a gentle push from Chaos, Edgar went out to explore the world and find out what it was.

Boomstick: And unlike that asshole, Edgar didn’t have trouble making friends, like, at all. Turns out when you’re a chill guy and not a mentally unstable maniac, people enjoy your company a whole lot more.

Wiz: Edgar only continued to improve himself, both in confidence and combat ability. And yet, it never felt as if he got any closer. For every friend he made, he watched as another life was lost. For every town, or even country he rescued, there were always those who suffered no matter what. What was the point of anyone's existence when someone would always suffer for each action one took?

Boomstick: That’s when a chance encounter revealed Edgars purpose to him. Right off the heels of Chaos’s big, dramatic fight with the demon that took everything from him, Edgar was approached by a demon of his own. 

Wiz: They bore neither ill-intent nor desire for power, for they felt the same way Edgar did about existence. In their conversation, a deal was made. Edgar would borrow the demon's power, and through it he would wipe out all life as we know it. Edgar had found his purpose, and in his eyes saw this action not one of cruelty, but of saving. 

Boomstick: Okay, forget that part about not being a mentally ill nutjob, especially since the first thing Edgar did was kill every single one of his friends while their backs were turned around!

Wiz: All thanks to the demon's own personal brand of Magic: Disease. With it Edgar can control oceans worth of a strange substance referred to as “The corrupted origin of all plagues in existence”. Should a normal person even touch it, it can cause massive organ failure in seconds, and no average mortal can hope to even resist its effects. All controlled by that demons “core”, a physical manifestation of one's soul that can still leave the original owner conscious in their own body

Boomstick: The guy can even melt his body into the stuff and reform it elsewhere, repair most damage dealt to him, and could even cover an entire mountain in the stuff in an instant!

Wiz: Most terrifyingly, however, is that he was able to awaken to his Innate Ability, a power attached to one's soul. And for Edgar, his was the power to copy the Innate Abilities of others so long as he made physical contact with them: Cruel Mimicry. While it only lasts for 30 minutes, it can easily be recharged by just simply touching the person again.

Boomstick: Mix that with the demon's personal Magic, and you have one of the deadliest recipes for disaster known to man. At the peak of his power, Edgar threatened to cover the entire world in that disease sludge, down to the earth's very core so none could escape it.

Wiz: The only thing that stood in Edgars way was… Chaos. The same Chaos who once hated all of humanity with every ounce of his soul, who was tortured by his own existence, being denied any sort of afterlife that didn’t consist of a rotting corpse in order to interact with the world.

Boomstick: That same Chaos who had gone through half a decade of character development and realized he wanted the exact opposite of Edgar: Life would go on, whether it wanted to or not, because that’s what defines your existence. Every interaction, every possibility, that’s what defines a person's story, and that’s what Chaos had realized he cared about.

Wiz: And so, the two did battle, Edgar against Chaos with his newfound friends. A battle that would decide the fate of every single soul on the planet. A battle that could have ended in Chaos’s permanent erasure.

Boomstick: See, Edgar had combined all the parts of a device that lead to the Void, the space between dimensions and straight into the Origin of Life, an infinite sea of uncontrollable Magic that tears apart all that falls into it on an informational level. Reduced to nothing but magic that once made you before being repurposed into something else.

Wiz: Because of Chaos’s power Rule Breaker, Edgar assumed that this was the only way to give Chaos a peaceful ending. And in their fight, Chaos realized he was fighting a losing battle.

Boomstick: Which is fucking insane, considering the fact that Chaos could swing around a flail so dense it had its own gravitational field comparable to the planet they stood on! In order to have a gravitational field like that, it would need a density of 7.0276186775762 to the power of 22! That’s 18 zeros, and denser than a goddamn neutron star!

Wiz: Not to mention that Chaos can outrun beings moving as electricity, which can reach speeds nearing the speed of light at 90%! Chaos was clearly faster than them, so Edgar would have to be reacting at light speed in order to keep up with just Chaos.

Boomstick: Let me remind you, Chaos had backup for this fight, and they still got their asses kicked by Edgar once he consumed that demon's soul! That’s right, Edgar literally absorbed the soul of the guy he made the deal with in order to try and wipe out all life as we know it.

Wiz: Not only did this give Edgar full control of the demon's power, but it also became his undoing. As the fight reached its climax, and Edgar seemed unbeatable, he offered Chaos a deal: He would plunge the being he once saw as his best friend into the depths of the Origin of Life before eliminating all life so Chaos wouldn’t have to watch him do it.

Boomstick: Chaos, surprisingly, took the deal. He walked up to Edgar as he tore a hole in space and time to the void… before biting his fucking neck and sending them both hurtling down into their end!

Wiz: And that’s when Edgar realized his mistake: By absorbing the demons soul, he had literally become one himself, and his soul was now permanently stuck in his body as Chaos forced them both to their deaths. Edgar couldn’t understand why, after an afterlife of pain and suffering, Chaos would throw it all away just to spite him. A question Chaos answered with a single sentence:

 “Because I’m a goddamn monster, and this is how our story ends.”

Boomstick: Damn. And so, the two plunged into the Origin of Life. Except, they didn’t die, or get erased from existence. Turns out, Chaos’s Rule Breaker still protected him from even that, and Edgar had instinctively copied it before falling in. Edgar was pulled back to hell once he escaped, and Chaos got out after a literal god fished him out.

Wiz: Edgar, to this day, can not understand Chaos’s reasoning. He can not understand the desire to live in suffering as many still do. Except now, every journey he makes out of hell leaves him so much weaker than his prime and easily dealt with by Chaos or one of his allies.

Boomstick: Plus, he’s crazy frail. Sure, he’s still as tough as the average living corpse, but there’s a reason he avoided any physical combat during his final fight. It doesn’t take much to destroy Edgars main body. Plus, the main reason he was able to win against Chaos and his friends was because they straight up couldn’t get a good hit in as he blocked their attacks. Which he was really, really good at.

Wiz: Edgars magic is nigh-unmatched, his skill unparalleled, and his drive unshakable. Every breath you take, every step towards your personal goals you make, Edgar will be waiting, until the end of time itself to make it all meaningless. Edgar was no longer the laid back raven that made friends. He was the genocidal force of nature that spelt the end for all. And all who know it will never have a good night's rest.

Intermission

Wiz: Alright, the combatants are set and we’ve run the data through all possibilities.

Boomstick: It’s time for a DEATH BATTLE!

Pre-Fight

“Tirana? Are you there???”

Katrina had been looking for her girlfriend for a while now, and still no luck. She had even gone out of her comfort zone and traveled to the mountains near the coastal arena in search of her, and there still wasn’t any sign of her. Even weirder, she definitely didn’t recognize the forest she found herself in…

Floating back down to the forest floor, Katrina found a large rock and sat on it. Hours spent shouting Tirana’s name, only to get a bit hoarse from it all. Something must have happened to Tirana… she was supposedly waiting outside for the whole even to start, getting a food order, so where did she go…

Katrina smacked herself in the face to refocus herself. There’s no point in sitting around being worried. Her girlfriend had something happen to her, and she was going to do something about it dammit! Quickly getting back up, she prepared to take flight again, only to hear a strange rumble from further into the forest, quickly growing in intensity.

As she turned around, she couldn’t help but jump back from the massive stampede of animals all charging towards her. Quickly flying up, she watched as what seemed to be every single animal in the forest running from something.

Following their trail, it didn’t take long before Katrina found the source: A strange sludge had been quickly creeping through the forest, infecting whatever it touched. Plants withered and died off, while any animal that made contact quickly slowed and succumbed to whatever disease it carried. In the center of it all was a lone figure, their dark green skin blending in with the sludge almost perfectly, along with their dark grey hoodie and… goat legs? In fact, the only thing that stood out was their grey, unkempt hair along with their striking aquamarine eye.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing!?”

Edgar slowly looked up, spotting a woman in her thirties in nothing but a crop top and torn jeans flying above him, her blond hair going crazy with the wind, though she seemed unbothered by it. Her wings flapped calmly along with it all, keeping her steady in the air.

“I am simply releasing these souls from their suffering… I hope you understand.”

“Oh, I understand you’re committing a whole lot of what I’d consider biological terrorism!”

“Very well… I may not be at my strongest, but I suppose I’ll have to save you as well so you can see what I mean.”

Massive tendrils quickly formed out of the sludge, quickly reaching up to Katrina. But, to Edgars surprise, they were quickly sliced to ribbons before they got even halfway to her.

“Interesting…”

FIGHT!

Edgar quickly continued his bombardment, and Katrina responded in kind, both going at each other with serious ferocity. Edgar took note of the situation, having several tendrils form together in order to strengthen them. Katrina strengthened her own gusts of wind to counter it, only to be caught off guard by a smaller tendril that had sneaked past her and grabbed her ankle. She was quickly dragged down back onto the forest floor, slammed into the dirt and trees a few times before she recovered enough to slice the tendril to pieces.

“I truly don’t understand… Why do you all continue to fight?”

Edgar slowly walked out from behind some trees, his disease spreading out behind him. Katrina didn’t even answer him, instead using the wind above him to apply intense pressure, forcing him to his knees and the rest of his sludge to follow suit. Edgar tried to push against the wind, but had no luck as he was forced more and more into the ground. Reaching out his hand, he could feel the magic in the air gather for him, before slamming his fist down.

Katrina was confused for a second, before a stone pillar erupted from just below her and got her right in the chin, and was sent flying. It took a bit to reposition herself (and spit out a tooth), so when she looked back down the next of Edgars assault was already on its way. Instead of being that sludge, however, it was more of the earth itself, now formed as massive spikes. Her wind couldn’t keep up with the hard stone, so instead she chose to fly around each attack, ducking and dodging like a hummingbird.

Just when she got into a good rhythm, she was slammed by wind on her back, sending her hurtling back downwards, and almost right onto a spike if she hadn’t pushed herself out of the way. She didn’t even get a chance to catch her breath, as the wind around her began going crazy, flinging her around like it was being controlled by a lunatic.

“He can control wind too!?”

Katrina didn’t even get a chance to ponder this thought as she had to save herself from another spike, fighting for control over the wind around her being an uncomfortable situation. However, she could feel her own control over it begin to outpace Edgars. As more spikes closed in, leaving her little room to dodge, she focused her control even more, dominating the air, before letting loose a massive burst of wind that shattered the spikes.

Edgar followed this up by raising his hand again, this time letting a massive plume of fire erupt from it. Katrina focused her power again, easily dispersing the flames before they even got close, until something fast and sharp sliced her cheek. The flames died down, revealing that Edgar had formed hundreds of icicles, all aimed directly at her. The flames merely acted as a distraction so he could form them without issue.

The demon was quick to begin his attack, sending out a hail storm of icicles at her that didn’t seem to end. She did her best to dodge them, using her wind to disperse any coming too close. Not only was this guy using some weird substance, but he controlled basically all the elements other catastrophes could use. Just what the hell was he, some kinda wizard!?

Okay, that last one was probably a lot closer than she thought, as Edgar began trying to control the wind around her in an attempt to slow her down. While she was able to fend it off, it also served as another distraction, which she was quickly punished for with an icicle to the leg.

‘Sunnova-!”

Katrina didn’t get a chance to follow that statement up, as more stone spikes continued to make their way towards her. She tried to dodge them, only for the rigid spikes to break apart on their one, their insides being the sludge tentacles from before, latching onto her. She summoned more wind to sever her bindings, but they were quickly reformed as one reached her neck and began choking her. She could feel the disgusting substance sink into her flesh, infecting her body. Her vision blurred, her stomach churned, and her thoughts slowly devolved as a ringing headache filled her mind.

“Let’s end this.”

Edgar commanded his tendrils once again, slamming Katrina deep into the mountain nearby. He spread out his senses through the earth, finding her and closing the rocks around her. With one final hand movement, he squeezed his hand into a fist, collapsing the earth around her and crushing her as easily as one would a balloon. Edgar sighed, another soul being freed of its chains. Now, where to continue that tournament…

Edgar turned around, satisfied with his work, before he felt a rumble across the ground. The forest shook, and as he looked up at the mountain, he watched it break apart as Katrina rose above it, her strength renewed as she had turned her body into wind, causing the substance that infected her to fall through her and back into the ground. With the mountain out of the way, a massive torrent of wind and rain quickly gathered, blocking out the bright sun in a matter of seconds as Edgar found his vision obscured.

Still, this sudden weather was more of a physical threat than a visionary one, and Edgar formed a protective barrier around himself to block their effects. Just in time, too, as more blades of wind and water began smashing into it from all sides. He did his best to keep his focus up, however, trying to pinpoint Katrina's location.

Edgar quickly found her, but it was as she punched Edgars barrier, causing both him and it to be sent flying backwards. Edgar tried to recover, but Katrina was relentless with her attacks. Not only was her control over the weather greater than Edgars, but it seemed to cover an even larger area than he could reliably. His barrier was tested again and again, and he couldn’t even get his bearings as Katrina kept popping up out of nowhere to send him flying in random directions.

Eventually, Edgar found himself being launched through a mountain, the other side of it leading directly to the ocean. The storm intensified even further, making just floating in a single spot nearly impossible for Edgar. Raising his hand, the demon found a weak point in Katrina’s control over the storm, and summoned down a whirlwind around himself, blocking out most of the storm.

Katrina quickly followed Edgar out of the mountain, watching as he summoned a massive vortex around himself. Just as she prepared another assault, the whirlwind suddenly lit up, becoming a massive column of flames along the water's surface. The heat from it evaporated the rain that dared to drop near it, and Katrina switched plans. She summoned her own vortex around herself, the rain now empowering it into a waterspout as the two typhoons clashed with each other, their opposing elements fighting for dominance.

Within their makeshift barriers, however, the two continued their own clash as they launched projectile after projectile at each other, Edgar sending forth waves of flames while Katrina responded with blades of wind.

“Impressive… but my dreams shall still prevail!”

“Dreams? More like waking nightmares!”

Edgar, now a bit more upset that his desire would be brushed off so simply, focused his powers on the surrounding environment. He could feel the magic in the air, and more importantly, in the sea below them. He focused harder, mixing and shaping the magic to his whim. Katrina, meanwhile, took this opening to create an even stronger blade and sent it outwards, managing to slice Edgars arm off as he continued his focus on the sea itself.

Just as Katrina prepared another attack, this one aiming at Edgars head, she found her whirlwind becoming unstable as something large slammed into it, before another and another, eventually completely dissipating as the massive waves Edgar had been so focused on making began to overwhelm her. She tried to insert her own control over them, but there was too much as the near tsunamis began to drag her further and further down into their dark waters at the command of Edgar.

Edgars own vortex quickly dissipated, his control of the storm improving. However, Edgar didn’t trust Katrina to just simply suffocate like with the mountain. Instead, he forced his control over the water, lowering its temperature until he had formed a massive iceberg encasing Katrina. And, because he chose to be safer than sorry, he ordered the storm above to rub against itself more vigorously, making it form a massive continuous lightning bolt that struck the iceberg, evaporating both it and the iceberg.

Edgar sighed again, clearly tired out from the fight. He raised his hand in preparation to stop the assault, only to watch as the sea churned more vigorously than he had ever seen. He redoubled the lightning strike, only for it to be rendered useless as Katrina rose from the sea in a new, much more imposing form.

Edgar looked up at the absolute titan before him. A being that easily rivaled the mountains behind it in sheer size, completely made of wind. Edgar lost any control he had of the storm, and only managed to form a protective barrier in time to block an even stronger lightning bolt that the one he had just used. It took most of his effort just to maintain the barrier, and that was not even taking into account how much more viciously the storm began beating down on him.

Edgar found himself in one spot, but not because of any effort on his part. Instead, the wind pressure just beyond his barrier had begun pressing against it, crushing his barrier slowly. Every second was another centimeter of space lost. Edgar couldn’t even attempt a counter attack.

The giantess finally moved from her position, her hands gripping Edgars barrier and began crushing it herself. Edgar focused more and more on maintaining it, only for it to all be in vain as it was crushed with seemingly little effort. Edgar was now in the grip of Katrina, in seemingly the worst possible position for himself. Another bolt of lightning was fired from the heavens, striking Edgar and forcing a scream of pain to escape his lips. He could feel his bones crack under her grip, and he slowly lost the ability to focus. His eyes slowly closed, his body already admitting defeat…

Was this how he died? To some strange force of nature he had never seen? Being sent back to hell, all that progress wasted. This tournament was his only chance… The only chance of his to complete what he set out to do: The extermination of all life, to save their souls from the shackles of life.

He would not waste it.

Edgars eyes snapped open, and he could feel the Origin of Disease obey him, and him alone. He commanded it, what was left on the mainland, to begin traveling back to him. He strained and struggled against Katrina's grip, drawing her attention towards him. She tightened her hold, trying to squeeze the life out of him, the storm blocking out the sound of the rushing sludge making its way to her. By the time she noticed it, it was already too late as it spread out and wrapped around her body, forcing Edgar to be dropped.

Edgar finally let out labored breaths as he contained Katrina. She slammed against its stretched thin wall, nearly breaking out of the confinement, but Edgar kept having the entire thing repair itself. Then, he began forcing the jail to shrink, becoming air-tight. Each passing second, it grew stronger and smaller, quickly forcing Katrina back into her human form. Edgar watched as the now much smaller sphere completely contained her, and spoke the last words she would ever hear.

“Let thy struggling soul rest now. May you be free of the confinements of existence, so it may no longer trouble you with its pain and suffering. May your soul be plagued by a lifetime of heartbreak, loss, and agony…”

Edgar closed his hand fully, completely crushing Katrina within the prison. As he released his hold on her, he watched as her crumpled corpse fell into the ocean, slowly sinking into the abyss.

“Nevermore.”

K.O.!

Boomstick: Oh, I get it! It’s cuz he’s named after Edgar Allen Poe!

Wiz: This fight was much closer than one would think. While Edgar could withstand and respond to attacks far outside of Katrina’s own domain, he wasn’t physically that strong, while Katrina physically could take much more than his main body.

Boomstick: Plus, it’s not that much of a reach to assume that her control over the weather outclassed Edgars control of it for the most part, considering she’s the literal incarnation of a hurricane.

Wiz: In other words, all she would need is a clear opening to land a killing blow. The issue here, of course, being that Edgar’s fighting style is specifically made to counter such opportunities.

Boomstick: Remember, this guy went 1v3 against not only a bunch of powerhouses, but also two of them knowing 100% how most of his powers work, and nearly beat them before getting tricked. With his speed advantage, Katrina wasn’t gonna find anything like that easily, and especially before he got his own killing blow.

Wiz: Another thing that aided Edgar was simply having much more general control over the battlefield and more options when it came to defensive moves. He could form protective barriers and use the earth itself to attack, which Katrina would likely have difficulty dealing with directly. In other words, Edgar won through his combination of better reaction time, nigh-impenetrable defense, and more varied arsenal.

Boomstick: Katrina came in like one hell of a storm, but was met with crushing defeat. Guess that’s why Chaos-made cataclysms are a whole lot scarier than catastrophes.

Wiz: The winner is Edgar.

Chapter Text

The two weren’t expecting much, but were still disappointed in what they found. The colosseum was completely empty, not even any pillars like the one Pike had found. It was also much smaller, and clearly much older. It was falling to pieces, time weathering away anything of detail. One of the walls was even crumpling down slowly as the two walked around. But still, something was drawing them there, like they’d find something important here. 

That something quickly became apparent, as a massive dark dome covered the colosseum, dimming the light as if it was being seen from behind shades.

“What the!?” Pike was immediately caught off guard by the sudden entrapment, while Drown quickly got ready to fight. Whether it was Pike or some other person she needed to defeat wouldn’t matter, so long as she could get to the bottom of this.

About another minute passed before the two turned to each other, unsure of what to do. Were they supposed to fight each other? Pike didn’t exactly want to fight an ally, especially since they needed to find her friend. Drown, meanwhile, merely continued looking her potential opponent up and down, before asking a single question?”

“What’s your power level?”

Before she got any sort of answer, a different, yet familiar voice answered for her.

“Not high enough.”

As they both turned to the source of the voice, a streak of pitch black flew past both their faces, scraping their skin and drawing blood effortlessly.

“I was expecting to fight the kitty alone, but I suppose you won't add much anyways.”

Pike scanned her surroundings, whatever was around either concealed their presence really well, or was… maybe too fast to be seen? The possibilities were there, she turned to Drown.

“We could cover each other's back, that way, they can't catch us-”

“So the bastard has come out to play.” Drown said, in an uncharacteristically unhinged voice. “You piss me off to no end, and you know it, so why would you be here?”

“Exactly to piss you off to no end.” The voice replied.

A gust of wind blew by, and both of them found small cuts on their forearms, Pike growing concerned.

“This doesn't feel like it should have the strength to harm me…” she turned to Drown. “Any… suggestions on how we can take this guy on?”

A smile crept across Drown's face as her latent power skyrocketed.

“You're out of your depth here, kitty cat. I recommend you be a good pet and go clean the litter box.” Drown said, stepping forwards towards the center of the arena.

A small burst of gravity occurred, and a man appeared with no transition, looking more like he belonged in an office building, with a messy but somewhat combed blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and his thumbs in his pockets.

“My government contract insists that I shouldn't kill other Forces of Mass Destruction… however.”

A slice of darkness moved across Drown's vision, she dodged it barely, the cleave went on to slice an imperceptible gap across the surrounding structure.

“I didn't use my real name in the contract.” The man turned to Pike. “Also please, don't downplay our frenemy here. When I’m done having my fun with you, I'll need someone with actual power to slice through.”

Drown’s eyes widened.

“I hope you don't have any attachments to your inner organs.”

The man smiled, and Pike was… confused.

“So are you guys… gonna fight.”

The man, RK, turned to her with a smile. “To call it a fight implies struggle. This is an abusive relationship, and she's the victim.”

“That’s… a disturbing way to put it.”

Another slash went across her arm, and Pike's adaptation still found itself failing to activate. She couldn’t even tell what he was attacking her with, not feeling any ki extending out from him.

“You seem surprised.”

“Hey! Your attention should be on me!” Drown angrily demanded.

As Pike got into a fighting stance, RK seemed completely unbothered, letting her dash towards him before he swiftly disappeared, letting her slam against the coliseum walls.

“I like to play with my food, but I have some rules.” He smiled. “First one, the dome around this place is made of pure anti-matter. You can't adapt to it, nor destroy it. If you touch it, you might as well be dead. Second rule: I always take the first shot”

“That sounds like cheat-” before Pike could finish, a sharp pain came across her ear, as she felt a gush of blood come out and drip down her forehead, over her eye, splashing on the floor.

“What's wrong?” RK asked, his face now dead serious. “Are you starting to realize you're not all your hype says you are?”

Pike reached up to her now damaged ear, feeling her ki go to it and began repairing it. That made three times she’s been attacked, and three times she couldn’t do anything about it.

“Keep healing. I need you mostly whole for when I'm done cutting Thas down… then I'll have way more of you to cook after our fight.”

“Okay, now that’s just gross dude.”

Pike quickly flung a small ball of energy at the stranger, only to watch as some strange barrier formed for a split second, dissolving the attack with ease. This was going to be a long, frustrating fight…

“I’d ask you to pick a god and start praying…

But by this point…

You'd need the fucking Lovecraft Mythos to show up to stay alive .”

Sol slowly woke up from his forced nap, finding his arm had regrown and Chaos still working away on his now broken device. Just from those two pieces of evidence, it was clear to Sol that Chaos had let him die of blood loss. Hell, he’d bet money that Chaos didn’t even bother checking on him.

“C’mon, what the hell happened dammit…”

Slowly getting back up, Sol looked around the room. Pike and that other woman were gone, so the part of them going through the portal likely wasn’t a blood-loss induced hallucination, but that still left him with Chaos, which was about three times as bad as getting his arm severed by a failed portal.

He didn’t even bother checking on Chaos, but he did notice a strange smell in the air. It was like if you burned one of those fancy computers from high tech labs to ash. Following his nose, Sol found the source. Behind a bunch of tangled wires and machines, far outside of Chaos' vision, was a massive smoldering pile of what he assumed to be a core component of the machine. It had been completely destroyed, far more than anything that could have done it internally.

“Hey Chaos, over here.”

“Great, he’s alive… Go find something else to do, I’m busy.”

“No seriously, I think I found the problem.”

Another swear from Chaos and he begrudgingly came over, finding what remained of, judging by his clear anger, confusion, and a hint of worry, a very important part.

“What the hell!?”

“I’m no expert on this stuff, but that isn’t how this stuff should look after breaking, right?”

“No!”

Chaos quickly looked around, trying to figure out the source of the attack, only to find nothing. Not even the faintest trace of intent besides directly inside the destroyed piece of machine. 

“All right, then I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that whoever is behind this tournament probably did this…”

Chaos only responded by screaming in rage, though for him it was more like you threw together a bunch of radio ads at random and played them all at once.

Sol watched as Chaos quickly got back to work trying hopelessly to salvage what he could. After getting nothing for a few minutes, he threw his hands up in frustration, swore once again, and stood back up.

“Alright, things completely fucked up. That’s the bad news.”

“There better be good news then.”

“Yeah, it’s that I can remake it. Just need to get the supplies for it. Stay here and make sure nothing else gets broken. That includes not touching anything unless you think it’s about to be attacked.”

It took a few hours, but the two eventually got the machine up and running again, quickly passing through it as it closed behind them. A small portal opened by Chaos, who quickly grabbed something out of it: A small, compass-like device.

“The hell’s that for?”

“It’s a tracker. Made it when the idea that Edgar might try to escape to another reality came across my mind, and now I have a use for it. It’s specifically tuned to his soul, so he’s not getting away.”

“Yeah, if we can even find him. Where the hell are we anyways?”

The area around them was desolate, arid. The air had the taste and smell of metal and there was no sign of any life. The soil was sterile, there were no dead trees or skulls but a complete absence of any and all signs life had even existed… if it had at all.

Well, aside from the strange metal structures that littered the ground. Despite being in a barren wasteland for who knows how long, they were incredibly pristine. They rose from the ground like messy fountains of water. Even the broken ones shined like mirrors under the… suns? Well, at least they knew they didn’t simply go somewhere else on their own planet…

In the distance, towers loomed. Not skyscrapers, but massive, unrelenting towers, brutalistic structures that looked both post-apocalyptic, and well-kept daily. Chaos’s eyes flashed on as he began scanning the area for any signs of life. Just the very action of one's body will give off the intent to survive, so he should have found something. 

While he did, it wasn’t anything he had really seen before. The ground and air held only the faintest traces of any sort of intent, hovering around the strange metal structures. The more he looked, the less Chaos saw. Even in a barren desert, or wasteland, or wherever the hell he was, there was always a trace of something in the ground. The blood red scraps of war, the desperate trails of the lost, something always was there to serve as some sort of guide. But besides the strange statues, there was nothing to indicate any life existing here at any point in time.

While Chaos kept looking around for some kind of hint as to where to go from there, Sol decided to take a closer look at one of the statues. They genuinely were well made, and their condition in this environment made it clear they could last a while. He could look around some more, find a good one, and see if he could place it in his bar. It’d be a nice change of scenery for his patrons, and he wouldn’t have to spend money on it. Hell, if that didn’t work out he could always sell them. He looked closer at one, thinking about the high class bottles he could bring to his bar with that kinda money.

As Sol kept staring, he started to notice… something. At first, he couldn’t tell what it was, figuring his eyes were just messing with him. But then it started to pop out more and more. The vague outlines pushing against the metal, far too careful for any metalworker he knew to make. 

A heart, or at least, part of one. He’d seen images of them online, and in person when he least wanted to (How was he supposed to know Chaos was operating at the time?), and the more he studied it, the more realistic it looked. His eyes slowly drifted away from it, spotting more strange shapes in the metal. A liver, lunges, even a couple of eyeballs. Taking a step back, Sol looked over to another statue, and saw the same shapes. More organs, entrails, and other viscera hidden by the metal. The slow realization hit Sol like a truck as he quickly moved to one of the statues, digging up the sand below it with his hands.

“Where the hell- What the hell are you doing?”

Chaos, just finishing his survey, had looked back to see Sol furiously digging.

“Don’t tell me your bar is THAT desperate for money.”

“Just shut up and-”

As his fingers brushed against the buried metal, Sol knew he had found what he was looking for. He dug more and more sand out of the hole he made as Chaos walked over to him. It wasn’t long before they saw something that made the surrounding statues feel much more imposing.

Buried underneath the sand, Sol had found a metallic arm attached to the statue. With some help from the now concerned Chaos, they managed to dig up what base the statue was made of. It was a fairly average sized man, their face contorted with pain and fear. From their entire midsection, the fountain sprayed outwards. It was no longer a pretty piece of metal. It was a vile display of violence and death.

“What the fuck…”

Chaos quickly moved to another statue, pulling it out to discover the same scene. Another changed the gender to female, but all the same in terms of violence.

“Don’t tell me…”

The answer of why Chaos could only find intent around the statues being revealed didn’t make the two feel any better. If anything, it only put the thought into their minds that they needed to be careful. Chaos broke off a piece of a statue, trying to get a closer look at it to figure out if it was some sort of disease or magic.

“Soul…?

“Need something?”

“No, it’s souls. The more I look at them, the more they resemble actual souls. It’s like they were… ripped out of their bodies, then frozen in metal…”

“Is that possible?”

“Looks like it… though, how is more important…”

“You don’t think something like that could… kill us, right?”

The question hung in the air between the two. It was… uncomfortable, to say the least. They had an unspoken agreement to try and avoid discussing mortality between them, as it always left the two depressed afterwards. Having to face something that could potentially put them down permanently, however, was something neither of the two could even imagine.

“... Can’t say. We’d have to test it on ourselves, and we don’t know any way to reverse it.”

“Dammit Pedro… What the hell did you get yourself into…”

Chaos turned to look at the distant pillars. Whatever the hell had happened here was disturbing, and there was no way those pillars didn’t at least have something to do with them.

“C’mon, let’s go see if the asshole who did this is over there.”

“Yeah, definitely not liking you giving me orders.”

“I’m not ordering, just suggesting.”

“Yeah, the obvious. I doubt the portal led us here, in a massive graveyard, with weird ass pillars in the distance.”

“You know, I almost forgot how annoying I find your voice.”

“I almost forgot how grating yours was.”

The two continued their bickering, walking and fighting the entire time as the suns beat down on them. It didn’t matter what, they always found a way to insult and argue with each other. It didn’t make sense for either of the two. What kind of twisted, evil, sadistic god would lump those two together as they went on a rescue/murder mission, forcing the two to work together or be stuck in a barren wasteland for all of eternity?