Organization XIV - The Story So Far

Dispatch nodded, his arms folded, before reaching up to his chin. This was what he got for half-listening. Four people didn't mean four rescuers, it meant "leave half the team in the stands." Well in that case, time for a different frame of mind.

"The hostage should be someone who can fight without being able to move, then. I was thinkin' the key would be for some kinda cell, but now that I look closer I don't see any rooms down there, so the hostage could be chained to the wall for all we know. And it seems like most of the rest of us are more geared to attack than defend. If we've got a volunteer for defense, that's good. Spear-user, all the better. Thing is, I want in. Big Guy, you and your friend do work well together, I'll give you that for sure, and that makes four. You guys stick together, I can go it alone. Objections?"

He did still want to vouch for Jesse - that was some really impressive speed for someone not much more than 14, same as he'd been when he lost his team - but speed would be more helpful when there were directions other than forwards and backwards to move in, and nobody was sure whether up was an option.

Ready to speak up, Gestalt shrugged. "I might just hang back and play defense. I can use my corridors to deal with anyone who looks like they might be trouble, and if they get past the spear, I can smack 'em down. Although... my corridors can also likely bypass the walls, which would be useful on the advance team. That is, if it's not seen as cheating."

"For that matter, though..." His voice trailed off. "How good is everyone at navigating? Isn't that crucial to making any headway in this challenge? It's gonna be a maze, after all; all the strength in the world is no good if we just get lost."

Kain's brow furrowed for a moment. "Goeiz and I have both more or less volunteered as hostage, and I think we've more or less agreed Jill is to defend. Dispatch wants in, which makes two. Theo seems like our best shot on the offensive, followed by Dispatch. Dispatch has enough speed he could probably clear the maze before they make the first turn, even. The crux of the team seems to be the last two, which sound like our ace in the hole. Theo can take a beating and keep going, and his Vorpal seems strong. Gestalt has his corridors, which could end the match before it's truly begun. We'd get top score for timeliness, as mentioned, but where's the teamwork? Worse yet, could they plow through once it's open, and pull the same on us?

'Goeiz has the most diverse skillset. His breadth of sorcery far exceeds anything I could conjure up, and that vast array of choice offers us a blanket advantage against anyone who saw us earlier. He's capable of doing something to their defenses, as a hostage, but being able to communicate and manage the whole team effectively sounds like it requires him to not be a hostage.

"Then there's Brahaam, who might even be a match for my own group's hardest hitter. He's a wall, and a good protector. He's got his energy, and I have a feeling we haven't seen all of what he can do. While Dispatch or Gestalt could work best alone, Brahaam absolutely works best with a partner. That could be me, Goeiz, or Theo. And I myself have a variety of ways to keep momentum, maintain offense or defense, and the like."

Kain paused. "Out of deference to Jackie's own comment, and despite my own feelings on the matter, I'll agree to Jackie sitting out, even if only to shorten the candidate list."

No sooner had Kain spoken these words than did the teams begin offering up their hostage. From the Zeus-Hera team, one girl, in sparse and loose clothing, was being offered, and she lightly walked, lead along by Finn. The girl seemed the least bit perturbed, and her strange, mint-colored hair shone brightly under the light of the sun. From the other side, a shorter man lead a girl in battle regalia, hair done in a high ponytail. Her outfit seemed local, and at her hip seemed to be some form of metallic whip. The maze walls shifted and melted away, revealing an open arena. 

The dancer girl, upon seeing the other duo, preened and made her way over to the others enthusiastically. The other three paid her no mind, handing over the chains between the two escorts, who then shook hands. As they lead their charges away, the walls reappeared, this time in a new formation. Two sconces appeared near each holding door, where the chains were fastened. The ponytailed girl stood with her back to the wall, chin high and eyes defiant. The dancer-looking girl, meanwhile, seemed to be openly flirting with her escort, who continued to pay her no mind as she was shackled to the wall.

A moment later, warriors started filing out from the holding rooms. From the Zeus-Hera side, Finn went back inside, and out came two men, one dressed in white-and-red clothes, wearing eastern style sandals, and a man who bore a cowboy's hat, with two gunshot holes through the top of it. Accompanying them were two more cloaked figures: one, Isis, being the person who had tackled Kain earlier, sporting a new lime-lemon-pink pattern scarf, and the final dark-hooded figure. Isis took her hood off and beamed brightly, whereas the final figure kept their hood on, standing at attention. 

On the Athena-Apollo end, the short man stayed outside, while the paint-covered girl ventured out, as well as a stocky, dark-skinned man and a woman whose eyes shone red and bore pointed ears. They seemed to be chatting animatedly amongst themselves, except for the stocky man, who kept his gaze upward, as though he were reading something in the air above them. He bore no obvious weapons... for that matter, the only one of them that seemed armed in the slightest was the pointy-eared woman, who bore a staff and seemed to be carrying a folded gladiator's net with her. 

Another moment passed before Herc stood up before the crowd again, and Hermes stopped in the air, stationary and gaze fixed over the whole of the maze. Raising his arms up to the sky, Herc bellowed out, "Without further ado, let the first match...

"BEGIN!"

Gestalt immediately stopped talking and focused intently on the match that was starting to unfold. He didn't want to miss anything; there were members of no less than four teams participating, and this was a good chance to study their abilities, and the event itself. It was a lot of information to take in, and he couldn't really observe it adequately while discussing team roles.

Eyes fixed on the screen, he set himself to the task of trying to comprehend everything, something the human brain was not designed to do all at once. Huh, both hostages are women. The lithe, green-haired one is probably hiding her strength - or maybe she's support. The one wearing local gear seems like a fighter, so I bet their idea is the same as ours. We might get to see whether or not it matters if the hostage can fight unarmed or not.


Looking at the one figure who remained cloaked, the swordsman grit his teeth. ...Of course they're concealing everything they can. That only makes sense - if they expect to go up against everyone else, they're going to hide their capabilities to maintain that advantage. They might fight while keeping their abilities under wraps. Then there's the cowboy and some kind of monk, Kain's sister, a young woman covered in paint, a well-built guy, and... someone with pointy ears. Okay, I'm lost now. Nothing for it but to watch.

The crowd erupted into lively roars as the gathered spectators eagerly glued their eyes to the feed in front of them. After but a moment's hesitation, Isis seemed to gesture forward and took charge leading the way for the other three. The cloaked one followed suit immediately, while the two men looked at each other and then back at their captive, before sauntering onward, leaving her by herself. The girl had been staring bluntly forward the entire time, and made no move to acknowledge her captors, or soon lack thereof. Once they were gone, she began pulling and tearing at her bonds, to no avail. She tried pulling and twisting to grab her whip, but failed at that too. She began avidly searching, but at this point Isis' team had rounded the second bend, and found themselves at a crossroads. The two men looked to her for direction, and the group seemed to be having a bit of an animated discussion. 

On the other end, the man with dark skin turned and looked down, pointing towards the "north" part of the maze. Of his companions, the painted girl was the only one to stay behind. As her companions began to depart, she walked "west" a little and, whipping out her brush, began slinging mixed paints in the air. As it flew forward, it slowed and stuck to the space between two walls. Within moments, the section was covered with a real-looking facsimile of a wall. 

As the painter worked, the dancer smirked, and her already translucent, pale skin began to almost dissolve, turning transparent as she nearly disappeared from sight. She slinked forward towards the corner wall, slowly, carefully... then stuck one foot through the wall. Her smirk exploded into a wide, cheshire grin, as she pulled the rest of her body through. That is, until the cuffs hit the wall, at which they dinged loud enough to be heard in the entire Coliseum, even up to the stands. Everyone in the maze turned towards the sound, and was then promptly ignored afterwards by everyone but the painter. Her cuffs still linked to a chain, the painter quickly splashed together a dark grey stone golem, who grabbed the chain and pulled back, the dancer's grin gone, replaced by a vulgar, searing scowl. The painter paid her no mind, and spent time sealing up the other entryway to their corridor, then sealing up the wall nearest her prisoner. 

The painter's other companions walked clearly and decisively towards the north, in a way that wasn't meandering. The stocky man seemed to be walking forward with as much confidence as Isis was, his gaze never faltering from straight forward. Despite all the twists and turns, and myriad dead ends, neither party was falling for any of the fake paths. Rather, Isis and the hooded figure weren't falling for them.

At the intersection that had come to earlier, Isis and the hooded one spoke with the two men for a moment, before the two groups split. The two men had a rougher time of it, falling for a couple of dead ends, but seemed to be making reasonable progress "east" in the maze. Each dead end, they'd shrug and laugh, and turn back around. Meanwhile, Isis was pulling her friend along by the hand, a rather comical sight at first, since her companion seemed to be much larger than her in stature. 

[Current positions, orange marks a hostage, red is the initial Guys route with Isis, they continue past the fork, Dark Blue is Isis and her friend, Green is Illusory Walls, Gold is Stocky Guy's route.]

Gestalt shook his head, watching the dancer lady's attempt to slip out of her cell. I guess they're not kidding about 'sportsmanlike conduct'. Figures that escaping alone wouldn't be an option. My corridors probably wouldn't do any good, either.

Somebody who can paint on the air? Now I've seen everything. Still, how effective can that be in direct confrontation? ...Looks like the cowboy and that burly guy are gonna make contact first. Kain's sister has a good route; if they hurry, they'll be able to make it to the end without any chance of interference. 'Cept for that fake wall, but if there's a way to bypass the walls, that's the place to do it. And that hostage girl was almost able to get out, until the chain pulled her back. It's safe to say that we can make 'shortcuts' if we really wanna.

Jackie's eyes darted from group to group, curiously eyeing each bunch. She seemed to focus on Stocky Guy's group the most, occasionally letting her eyes flick towards the other pairings. Something about the way he walked, and how the short man who had offered their teammate walked, bothered her. It was as if Stocky Guy was hurrying behind someone, while Short Guy was being lead somewhere, his footing unsure. She kept silent for the moment, however, choosing to make note of how they interacted and how these small details might play out during a confrontation.

The Karr-Groth team, meanwhile, seemed to be keeping silent as well. Kain's brow furrowed as he seemed to be keeping an eye on his sister, paying little attention to the other groups. Not of frustration or irritation, but seemingly of confusion. Something, to him, was amiss. Yet even as he watched, Isis and her companion seemed to carry on just fine, the figure now standing upright and taking long, steady strides behind Isis. At the southwest corner, the painter girl was splashing a wide variety of paints on the floor and walls: bright warm colors behind one wall to create a steaming lava pit, dull gunmetal greys for spikes, blacks for holes and small, unknown creatures that squashed into them, yet another golem, and finally a final wall to keep her prisoner concealed from sight, held tightly in place by the first golem.

The woman thrashed about, turning partially intangible and kicking at her captor, but it proved useless: the golem seemed to not heed her attacks, and in fact seemed to be utterly unharmed by her outbursts. It simply stood, stock-still, as it awaited orders. 

As Stocky Guy began rounding the last two corners, Short Guy called out for a moment, reaching his hand out. Stocky Guy's gaze shot upwards as Short Guy and Redhead craned their ears, Short Guy even cupping one hand over each ear to hear better. As the two paired men came towards them, the group silently turned back into a corridor behind them, then moved to the side, out of the line of sight of the two oncomers. 

The two men seemed to be discussing each turn as they came to it, and chose each corridor at random. As they came to the spot where Stocky Guy had stood a moment before, they stopped. The man in eastern robes seemed to be sniffing the air, as his gunner companion placed a hand on the hilt of the gun he carried at his side. Jackie's eyes glinted, reflecting the light of that steel, biting her lip in anticipation. The robed man took a step forward...

And with a burst of movement, Short Guy and Redhead shot out around the corner. In a flash, Gunner had fired off three shots in quick succession as Robed Man drew two swords and dashed forward, body so low to the ground anyone would be forgiven for thinking he was scraping against it. His swords trailing behind him, he darted forward, but even as the two men made their assault, Short Guy had gestured toward Redhead with one hand, and towards the two men with another.

What rang out was a beautiful, enthralling siren's song. Redhead's voice seemed to be amplified, a song sang in three parts by one voice, soprano, alto, and a deep bass, magically layered together in sweet harmony. The lilting notes washed over the ears of everyone in attendance, cooing and whispering sweet nothings, teasing the minds of all. The fired bullets slowed to a crawl, inches from her head and heart, and the swordsman crashed to the ground, hands on his head, shouts unheard, ears bleeding. Stocky guy whipped around the corner, lifting a hand skyward. In an instant, a literal bolt from the blue came crashing down, landing just in front of the Gunner. 

Each and every contestant glanced upwards at it, in the moment before it made contact. Isis seemed unperturbed and walked on after a short pause, while the captives immediately ceased in their struggles, independent of each other, and while the Dancer seemed to continue in her escape attempt, Ponytail seemed content to sit it out and wait, kneeling on the ground. 

Jackie and Kain seemed instantly ensnared by the Siren's song, and both slowly rose from their seats--

Until a clear voice rang out in the group's mind, cutting through the honeyed song and removing it from their minds. Each of them failed to hear anything for a moment, then...

Peace, be still. It is I, Goeiz. Brahaam and I are going to be stopping this from affecting each of you. It's a small contingency we've planned for before, though I doubt we'll need to keep this up for long. An echo of a laugh is heard. Travelling by sea necessitated it after we dealt with one companion was convinced they needed to capsize our boat to prove their love. Sirens are bothersome creatures.

"Oh... thank you." Gestalt muttered, shaking his head, still slightly addled by the song. As he spoke, he realized he could hear nothing at all, aside from the message. Not even himself. It's a spell to silence all hearing? Better than shoving wax into all of our ears. I don't even feel the reverberation from the sounds. But the battle is eerie to watch, with a sense cut away.


He went over what he'd just seen, after his thoughts were shaken by the strange melody. As I thought, those two groups collided fast. I never considered that they might have a power to subdue everyone in hearing range. We won't be facing them in this round, but if we go up against them in the future, I should come up with a counter. I don't want to rely wholly on Goeiz, even if he is dependable. And one of them called down lightning. Not a single person in this arena is to be taken lightly.


Curious, he looked to the gods, wondering if they were even slightly affected by the siren's call. They were probably amused to see something like that here, he thought.

Dispatch took his eyes off the maze, for the first time since the match started. What was that sound...? It had a strange, mystical quality to it, and before he was entirely aware of it, he felt himself take a step forward. Then he blinked. What was he doing? It was just a song, for crying out loud! And besides that...

What, exactly? It was just a song, but the voice that sang it was captivating, like an entire chorus in one person...but wait, he'd never cared about music before. Why now?

Dispatch's hand made its way to his forehead as he clutched it. What the hell was this woman's song that it was drawing him in like this? And why was there a part of him that didn't care? This was ridiculous!

That was when his hearing was dulled, and he received the Hephaestus wizard's message. Sirens? As in, like police sirens? Did they keep creatures in their spinning lights? Those sirens definitely didn't sound anything like the woman who'd been singing--wait, she was probably still singing. Why couldn't he hear anything? Damned wizards and their damned wizard tricks. Though it was less of a problem than it would have been if he actually needed his hearing to find an opponent.

...Wait a second, why hadn't he thought of using his ki sense to detect their hostage? Maybe if he could do it passively he'd have thought of that sooner. Hm...

Brahaam piped up in the mind-link at Gestalt's idea. There's another technique, if you've undergone the proper training. If you're the type that can meditate or intensely focus in the midst of battle, then doing so to the exclusion of all else can prove just as effective. The inherent problem with that, obviously, is being able to do anything else in that time. If you can, though, it's quite effective against any form of illusion or mind-affecting attack. Someone whispering sweet nothings into your ear? Finding yourself in a barrel at the mercy of a mindflayer? Under siege by spellcasters who specialize in charms? Empty your head, let it hold no thoughts.


Theo immediately picked up on Dispatch's claim to sense ki, physically turning around to look at him for a moment, before turning back, his internal monologue seeping out slightly to those in the mind link. Scout... definitely... asset, but alone, or...


As the two men continued to writhe on the ground, the gunner attempted to scramble to his feet, while the swordsman appeared to be in worse condition. His eyes wide and bulging, he began shaking and convulsing on the ground as blood continued to pour from his orifices. His swords dropped on the ground, tears of salt, water and blood streaked down his face as he weakly reached for his partner. Those proficient at lip-reading at a distance could barely make out a phrase gracing his lips, but after a moment...

BANG!


...a single bullet flew through his skull.

The act was enough to halt the song, for but a split second, but that was all that was needed. Another shot rang out, clearing the air of the cursed melody, and in an instant the gunner had closed the gap to the Siren, blasting past even the bulk of Lightning Man. With a swift upper knee, and a dull crunch that could be heard from the closest seats. Her body flying up in the air, an invisible barrier blocked her body after the first twenty feet of flight. Jumping at one of the walls, he kicks off to intercept the body, firing a spiral of bullets as her figure falls past him. The gunner kicks out at the top, performing a split, and two-hand aims down at Short Guy. Short Guy himself ducked underneath and behind Gunner, while Thunder Man raised his arms and began chanting to the heavens, eyes locked with Gunner.

As this is happening, Painter is quietly watching each of the walls, slipping through the walls closest to Dancer as she inspects for intruders, while Isis physically stumbles at the same moment the first gunshot rang out. Pressing a hand to her lips, she stifles her emotions, her pace otherwise unbreaking, and Hood places a hand on her shoulder for support as they walk, side-by-side now.

Guilt and sorrow wash over Kain, before closing off his heart. I don't mean to alarm any of you, but from what I can tell the gameplan is... if what just happened was upsetting to you, the moment Zero locks eyes with that Painter girl, for gods' sakes, look away. And after this message, he wrenches his mind away and breaks contact with the mental link, which fully dissipates after another moment. The Karr-Groth warriors turn back to the Game, all four pairs of eyes steeled for what was to come.

Dispatch, still shaking his head, stood up straight again. "God damn," he said out loud before remembering nobody could hear him. His eyes widened when he saw the swordsman's fate. Not that he hadn't seen worse, but wasn't there supposed to be some deal going on with death? The bulky guy had said there wasn't anything to worry about. Unless everyone would get brought back to life afterwards, but what was afterwards in that case? After the round...or after the tournament? Good thing he'd seen that; it was a good warning to be careful even knowing that dying wouldn't stick.

Magic Man's warning, then, only stoked his curiosity. He had no idea which one Zero was, but he could see the painter, and kept his focus on her as he waited to see what would be so gruesome about it.

Gestalt's eyes fell a little, but he seemed remarkably undisturbed from witnessing someone die, for someone who was ostensibly a teenager. He was, however, startled that his thoughts had been heard, just moments before. ...It's distasteful to kill your own teammate like that. Even to get an opening. "...Is Zero that bastard cowboy? No, wait, the one with their hood up?"


Quieting his thoughts a little, he tried not to broadcast them to everyone. So, killing is allowed in this competition, after all. They said as much before. ...If Hades is pardoning death - and I remember myths saying that he's very strict about that - then dying really doesn't carry any consequence. Nothing to worry about.


So what's this burning feeling in my chest?

Jackie was frozen, a cold vice grip of horror and fear clutching at the back of her head. Eyes wide, her staring gaze bore a second hole through Robed Man's skull. She couldn't look away from the gore. She couldn't look away from the stopped body that, a moment before, was moving. She couldn't process that something that was once a person, was now a corpse. Her mind reeled. She couldn't understand it. There was no logic to it. He'd been a person, and then suddenly, he was nothing. Meat on the floor. She couldn't she couldn't she couldn't--

FLICK! The sound of a lighter went off next to her, pulling her out of her manic reverie for a moment. Looking down and left, to the source of the noise, Kain had pulled out a lighter, and a wispy gas was flowing from her temples to the lighter, as he held down the ignition switch on it. After a moment, the grip left her, and she felt the ability to relax her muscles for a moment. She realized she hadn't been breathing, as well. With a sigh, of internal exasperation and thankful relief, she closed her eyes and asked, "What'd you do? What are those?"

"My focii. Lighters that burn away, or are fueled by, certain things. You seemed really bothered by it, so I took that from you. I... realize that's perhaps a bit invasive, but I tend to meddle when it looks like people are in over their head." Kain paused, letting the explanation sink in for Jackie. He followed with, "I take it death is kind of a new thing for you." Not a question, an observation. One that sounded like it knew a little too much.

"Yeah."

Kain simply nodded. "I'll tell you about my own experiences later. For now, if you need to take a walk, feel free. I'll come with you if you need."

Jackie bit her lip for a moment. "I... I don't think that's necessary. I think it'd be better to be here with the rest of you." 

Kain turned to Gestalt at his question. "Yeah, Zero's the hooded one. I don't know anyone on Hera's team, but Zeus is Isis, Finn, and Zero, my friends. We used to chat over great distances, and before we came together, the handle she chose for herself was..." Kain paused, a slight blush on his face. "Well, it was rather edgy... and we'd laughed about it, but when the chips were down she was de facto our strongest fighter.

"To be blunt, I'm terrified of her at times."

Down in the ring, however, Gunner's arm lit up, glowing with energy as he aimed down at Lightning Man. The light in his arm forced it's way into his hand, from hand to gun, and the barrel glowed with a blinding light. 

BANG-CRACK! As Gunner shot down a roaring pillar of light, Thunder Man called down consecutive bolts of lighting to intercept the beam heading for him. The gun blast pulsed and roared to life, becoming a pillar of fiery energy that slowly seared down towards Thunder Man. Each bolt slowed it in it's tracks, and after a moment, Thunder Man darted away, running back the way he came. The gun blast connected with the ground and burst, and once the blast had cleared, Gunner was gone in a flash, running Thunder Man down. Short Guy was left, quivering for a moment, covering his ears, but after a few moments stood up, grabbed two objects from his pockets, and extended them. They resembled two metal batons, and he clanged them together, creating a ringing sound that could be faintly heard by the audience. 

He quickly ran westward in the maze, clanging them as he went. 

Meanwhile...

---

You are ZERO ZEPLIE. You've been invited to take part in this Olympic Games, in order to have your wish, your team's desires granted. You've been selected on this first team to keep your friend Isis safe. At her behest, you have followed her advice, since she is an oracle. More than that, at the behest of your Familiar, you have even done so to start trusting her, and others. You're not entirely sure what this means, but following people other than Master has been a new and novel experience. You've been lead down these inscrutable corridors, and have made... progress? You've not run into any dead ends as of yet, and Isis is making good pace. 

You feel something though as a loud bang rings out and Isis stumbles. While she had seemed strong and confident a moment before, she seems deeply affected. Has she Seen something? You offer a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady, and she appears grateful. You walk by her side, to offer her your strength. 

That's what you were made for, after all. To be the strongest.

And today, you get to put that to the test. Isis has guided you towards the other end of the maze, but slows down as she reaches what appears to be the first dead end. Having studied the exterior only a little, you get the feeling you're very close to your mission objective, and yet, there seems to be no way forward. A second inspection reveals that part of the wall is a slightly different texture from the rest, though. Isis gestures towards it.

You nod and oblige. 

You crouch, one foot to brace behind you, one foot to lunge in front of you. You curl a fist, bringing it down to your waist, the elbow jutting behind your back. In the infinitesimal span between instants, you bring your full force forward, obliterating the wall into... You had expected dust, but a sticky, paint-like substance coats your arm. It hardens after a second, turning once more to concrete. If Finn or the others had been here, it would have slowed them immensely, and disabled their fighting arm. 

But you are Zero.

You flex, and the paint-concrete crumbles and splatters away, freeing you. 

"Our hostage is harbored and harried in that hallway. Hurry, help her."

You oblige again. Yet another wall stands before you at the end of the hallway, this time guarded by a great golem. Upon noticing you, it bares its metallic claws and darts forward. You strike a brawler's stance, then wait. The first strike goes wide as you half-step backwards, and intercept it's forearm with your own. The claws twitch forward, lacerating your arm, but you don't even so much as wince. You aim a fist to its chassis, followed by a low-sweep to its legs. The golem hops slightly, aiming down a two-fisted slam. You dart underneath as it crushes the ground beneath it, sliding to safety. You spiral your body and dart for its back, hand-stand planting in front of it before wrapping your legs around the mecha's neck. Lifting yourself up, you twist as its arms try to slice at you, but without even looking, you swat them away. You twist again, and let your momentum carry you as you twist its neck. 

The neck support breaks, and the machine goes berserk, slicing at the walls wildly. A dark energy gathers around your fist, and you make the same motion before you broke the painted wall. 

Phoenix Style: Void Fist. A punch conveying no resistance slams into the golem, sending it rocketing backwards through the painted wall, where it crashes against the real wall and explodes. Dancer, the hostage, appears from amidst the wreckage, unharmed through her intangibility. She seemed a bit put off, but nonetheless grateful. You grab the key, kept safe in your sleeve, and begin to approach her, when her guard steps forward. 

Another obstacle to overcome. You hide the key again and saunter forward, but before you can take more than a few steps, Isis is grabbing you. Beneath your feet is now a boiling puddle of magma, which stretches before your eyes all the way to where the hostage is. Isis shrieks, and from behind, an infinite swarm of small, wriggling black creatures emerge from new holes in the walls. They squirm and jump towards Isis, latching onto her boots as they begin tearing and chewing at the fabric, eating through in moments. She hastily kicks her shoes off, hovers off the ground, and draws two syringes from her sleeves. The nearest creatures are slashed in two as her scarf comes to life and swings itself through the creatures like a living blade. 

Zero turns her attention to the woman in front of her, who has constructed two new Golems, and is attempting to make off with the Hostage, slipping easily through a third painted wall. Summoning the void to the soles of your feet, you casually walk across the lava, towards the two golems. In a wider arena, they'd have posed a serious threat to you and to Isis, but the cramped quaters for both made it hard for them to move, let alone towards you. Darting forward like snakes, your arms latch onto the metal chestplates of both, flinging them backwards, light as feathers for but an instant, and listen as they melt in the lava. You pass through the wall with impunity, not bothering to break it down. Gunshots and thunderbolts ring out in the distance, though you were instructed by Isis to ignore them. Your target is before you.

The painter's eyes fly wide open, and Hostage Girl smiles a disgustingly cruel, saccharine grin. "Wh-who are you?! What are you?!" cries out the painter.

You walk forward. "I suppose I can answer both of those at once, madame." The painter balks, trying to move backwards with the hostage in tow, but she's at the end of the length of chain. She steps forward, brandishing paint and palette, but you're already in front of her.

You grab her by the face. You're rather tall for a woman, and built accordingly, so the smaller girl's head fits neatly in your palm. "When I was online, talking with my friends, I was known as professionalAssassin. I am Zero Zeplie. Mage of Void."

You squeeze. You let go. You reach in your sleeve for the key again, and unlock the girl's restraints. Guen... you recall her name now... Guen, the hostage, dips down to the body, and places a hand near the wound. The body turns pale in a second, and Guen's own skin loses most of it's translucence. "Ah, better~ much better~!" she coos softly. "I'll be able to take us back to the start, then. Ready~? Heehee."

[This post approved by Zero's original author, Burner.]

Dispatch blinked. Wait, that was it? He'd been expecting the painter girl to burst into bloody chunks with a look, but she was dead now, so Zero had to be the other one. Granted, her fighting style was definitely impressive, but a skull-crushing wasn't all that big a deal. Dispatch saw those every few weeks when he was younger. He was definitely looking forward to fighting her all the same, though - that trick with the lava looked cool, and those machines were big enough that watching her toss them around like nothing got him excited all over again.

He gave Magic Man an aside glance, almost questioning whether that was what the big deal was all about, but he was talking with Jackie, so Dispatch kept his mouth shut and turned his eyes back to Zero, his heel now twitching in anticipation.

"'Edgy'?" Gestalt inquired. "...Well, she'll be a tough one, that's for sure. We should avoid a direct confrontation. Even if we'll be let off the hook for death, I don't think we should relax too much."

The one playing hostage a moment ago drained the life from the painter's body. Strange power. Maybe slipping through things ebbs away her own vigor.


And Zero appears to be able to ignore the heat of magma; either that illusion wasn't much like the real thing, or she's got a power that nullifies heat, somehow. Nobody could just stand in thousand-degree air... Not without bursting into flames. Yeah, must be nullification.

He gripped his arms a little tighter. This was exactly the kind of opponent he was worried about facing. Worse, he couldn't get a bead on her powers... His guess was vague at best.

Baton man has been running westward, avoiding the incorrect passages as he goes. His feet seem somewhat unsteady, but he's making better pace than before. As the clashes ring out, he continues onward, looking at nothing in particular, except for the space right in front of his feet. As she watches, Jill murmurs a faint "Ahhh" before turning silent again. Thunder Man has been relentlessly pursued by Gunner, who has fired endless shots and riddled the walls of the maze with holes. Lightning strikes back behind the prey, and the hunter shouts out with bullets that hunger, that wish to bite into flesh. 

At another crossroads, Thunder Man dips behind a wall, and kneels. A soft glow forms underneath him, as a magic circle inscribed with various runes swirls underneath his legs. The runes travel from his feet up his body, wrapping around his torso and arms. But a moment later, Gunner is standing there, hands shaking, gun pointed at his head. Neither of them move. With but a twitch, the situation could turn for the worse, instantly. 

Zero, Isis, and Guen group together, then Guen reaches forward and delicately holds their hands in hers. With the expression of... perhaps a lover, eager to see their beloved, perhaps of a mother, watching her child take their first steps, something sweet and happy, yet... yet something remains off about it. Her expressions seem immense, and genuine, written on her sleeves, but twisted to some degree. Like this, she turns herself, and her saviors, transparent, and she pulls them through the corner of the wall. Straight on towards the starting point, back to the pony-tailed whip girl. 

Suddenly, the walls all come down for a moment, leaving everyone exposed, and the area flat. Guen ceased her transparency, and Baton man whirled around and ran straight to the pony-tailed girl. Gunner was shocked, and in the moment he looked away, Thunder Man stood, pressing two flat palms to Gunner's chest. Energy surged, and as two of his runes faded, Gunner was blasted back, slamming into the wall near where Guen had been held captive just moments before. Guen stopped her movements.

She turned and saw Robed Man's body. She turned again and saw Gunner, weakly struggling from where he was planted in the wall. 

With a stony faced expression, she walked back towards Gunner. She knelt next to his body, pulling up his chin slightly. To those that could see, Gunner looked grateful. Happy, despite his pain. Guen planted a single kiss upon his forehead, and Gunner turned pale, like Painter had. 

She directed Isis and Zero with a gesture, as a powerful, liquid-like aura poured out from the air around her. Baton man and Ponytail had met up, and Ponytail was free. Both of them had been travelling against the far wall, trying to not be spotted and make progress while everyone else had been distracted. Isis prepped new syringes from within her robes, and Zero nearly vanished, dashing over to the far wall at speeds so fast she was little more than a blur. 

Guen marched straight for Thunder Man. Seven of his runes glowed brightly, and with a thrust, a meteor, 15-feet in diameter, sprang forth from his fist. Guen simply vanished through it, continuing her saunter. Thunder Man, equally, did not redirect his course, but instead began rapid-casting lightning where Guen stood, looking for all the word like a frenzied, manic conductor at a symphony. Nothing stopped her. Rather, nothing touched her. Her form began to waver as she continued her approach, and after she had closed half the distance, the bolts began to leave burn marks where they passed through her skin and clothes. Still did neither cease in this ritual.

With the last of his runes, Thunder Man shot out yet another meteor, and this time it connected, blasting Guen's flesh and aura back.

But after the dust subsided, a skeleton wearing those robes still stood in her place, and once more, it walked forward. It grabbed Thunder Man's outstretched wrist, and began to grow slightly, until she was towering over him, like a parent who was about to reprimand a child. She lifted him, and opened her maw, where dozens of dead, rotting, and cloying hands grasped for Thunder Man. For the first time, the man showed fear in his eyes, and scrambled to get away. Inexorably, he was lowered into her jaw, and not his scream, but the screams of the damned rose up as her mouth closed. As simply as the act was performed, she turned and strode towards her victory. 

Along the other wall, Baton man had made a last stand, lashing out with sonic blasts and battering Zero with strikes that slammed, slashed, and pierced at her body, though the wounds barely showed for the shockwaves they produced. Meanwhile, Ponytail was fighting Isis in a ranged confrontation, her whip showing notches in it, as though it was a long, snake-like extended sword. Ponytail kept the whip dancing in the air, fending off crocheting needles, syringes, and strikes from Isis' pet scarf, which slowly circled Ponytail in an attempt to strike at her back.

Yet, after a moment...

"AND... GAME, SET, MATCH! THE CLEAR CONDITION HAS BEEN ACHIEVED BY TEAM ZEUS-HERA!" The armored MC shouted out to the crowd, as Guen in her skeleton form waved nonchalantly at the last two standing contestants of the Athena-Apollo team. Both stopped their fighting immediately, and simply strode towards where the bodies of their companions lay, as Zero and Isis did for theirs. 

---

Meanwhile, in the Underworld...

"So, pal, whaddya want? Why'd you enter this tournament?"

"Ah, well, that's the question, ain't it? My friends and I... we've had a pretty shit life. We'd been raised to be despicable, and we've sent a lot of people packin' down here. We didn't start every fight, naw, but all the same, we put bodies in the ground. We lied, we stole, we were all awash in sin and gluttony. We're tired of it. We wanna reincarnate, live again, a different life, a normal, civil life. A life as humans."

"Really, now? A demon? Like you? Wants to be human. Hah! Rich. And I'm the god of the Underworld, gems and gold and ore are, inherently, my domain! Eheheh... But you say you're all no strangers to some... dirty work?"

"Yeah. We'd do anything to be done."

"Good, good. And your buddy behind you, you can vouch for that, too?"

"...yup. Just tired. Somewhere along the line... I think we made some real mistakes."

"And you two, let's see... Hurien, and Syren. What about you two?"

"Just adventurers, Lord Hades. We'd ask about treasure or haunts of monsters as an excuse to adventure. A chance to be under new skies."

"Interesting! I like it. But not something where you'd be, say, easily persuaded to do something a little more... dark?"

"No. We refuse."

"Easy enough! I get it, not for everyone. Well, I gotta go see your corpses up on the surface, so I'll be back. Rather, you will."

---

A shimmer appeared next to that figure, cloaked and mysterious, sweetly reeking of garbage, who no one paid any mind out of some type of manners. The figure turned to the shimmer, and perked up a bit. It cupped a hand to its ear, and listened for a moment. It laughed. "Good, good, another group. At least one of the four, that's good to hear. Very good indeed, Hades.

---

After ten or so minutes had passed, each standing team member was lined up, along with shrouds for where the corpses lay, and a spare one for where Thunder Man might have stood. Guen at this point had returned to a flesh-like form, and the rest had their wounds healed. The armored MC stood in between the sets of teams, and before him, Hades appeared in a flash of fire and smoke. Hades bowed to the MC, then the crowd, before walking over to each of the sheets. First was one for Robed Man, and Hades knelt down, placed a hand on where the ankle would be, and lightly tapped his sole. The body underneath jolted, and after a moment, it moved, and Robed man stood up, his wound healed, back as healthy as he ever was. Hades did the same for the rest, and for Thunder man, he simply waved his hand, and there he stood. In one moment, the space was empty, and in the next, he was standing there, as resolute as ever. 

The MC strode forward after the revivals had taken place, and spoke again to the crowd. "My good people! We have judged the merit and character of these four teams, and as a group, they shall be conferred a score for each quality we feel a True Hero should possess! For team Zeus-Hera, a full mark of ten points for the successful freedom of their hostage, and a safe and successful return. Five points for sportsmanlike conduct, as we feel their methods were aggressive at times, despite showing mercy in others! Seven points on speed of rescue, clocking in at a swift eleven minutes, forty-seven seconds! For teamwork, an astounding nine points, for utilizing the best efforts and techniques of each member selected, even the hostage! Truly remarkable, at thirty-one points!

"For the Athena-Apollo team! For managing to free the hostage, but unsuccessfully return, we award but five points! Nine points for sportsmanlike conduct, as they were honorable to the end! For freeing the hostage in twelve minutes, fifty-six seconds, we confer four points! And for teamwork, we award a score of eight points, for the diversity in which they acted, and the combinations they displayed, and in leaving defenses for their hostage! In total, twenty-six points! An admirable start for both teams!

"Now, will the Ares, Artemis, Hades, and Poseidon teams please come forth?!"

Dispatch blinked in surprise as Lord Hades simply...popped a man back into existence. That was...surprising. Although it probably shouldn't have been, given that he'd been eaten - how else would he come back? There was something not right about that hostage, too, but he couldn't for the life of him understand what. But based on what he'd seen, top priority if they had to fight her would be not to let her touch him.

He redirected his attention as the scores were announced. "So, we don't have to actually get the hostage back in order to win, huh? It's just one part of the score...although, what the hell is 'too aggressive' when it comes to saving your friends?" Especially when you know the other guys aren't gonna stay dead...

"...So we're on for the third bout. This is gonna be hell..." Gestalt tapped his foot irritably. Isis didn't really demonstrate her abilities clearly, either; not that I saw. Her scarf threw all kinds of sharp objects while she was free to move - and she looked like she was trying to take her opponent's back for some kind of coup-de-grace.


He thought back to the words they used to describe the current get-of-of-death-free situation. "I don't think killing your opponents is encouraged. They only added the stipulation about revival so that people could fight at their fullest and nobody would drop out for fear of running against a powerful, kill-happy competitor. If it's easier to just dock someone points for killing, and then revive the dead one, that probably makes for better sport than demanding that people not use lethal force. ...I think."

The swordsman's mind was a blur, just from trying to take in what he'd been seeing. Those abilities were unreal, and all of them were terrifying. He couldn't even begin to grasp the rules they operated on just by watching; he was satisfied that his guess about the dancer-skeleton girl had been somewhat correct; her phasing-through power ran dry under constant use. It just hadn't been enough to stop her from closing in and wiping out the mage who'd been blasting her. Not that that was useful to him, a close-quarters fighter. He was bound for death as soon as she caught him.

Furthermore, the competition didn't seem like it was elimination-style. They couldn't just scrape by; they had to do it quickly, without underhanded methods or relying on any one person to the point of neglecting teamwork. Consistently excellent performance was demanded. However, by that same token, they didn't have to win the battles... just achieve their goal and play by the rules, while putting on a show. That was the most important thing.

Thinking about it that way calmed his nerves. This isn't like Maleficent. These guys are tough, but not invincible; I'm sure their weaknesses are concealed and covered by each other. That means that if we take out a member of the group, the formation might fall apart, or at least reveal a vulnerability. ...But none of them seem like easy targets anyway, on either side!

Jackie pondered for a moment, taking in the newcomers before addressing Dispatch. "Yeah, the killing--murders, more like--seem to have been the big stipulation against them. Gunman down there, I think he kept blasting away at that singer well after she'd... perished, and that Zero character... I think by technicality, what she did to the painter was merciful, considering her strength, but then that hostage went and ate a person. That's..." she paused. "That's overkill, by any stretch of the imagination. She also made her dying friend pale, and same with the Painter's corpse, which might have tied in with her disappearances. She's strange, in any case."

Kain was busy taking in the new contestants with the aid of his scouter. Team Ares had only two contestants, two men in bulky, imposing armor, one wielding a scythe and emblazoned by a sun crest, while the other adorned a large, imposing slab of a sword and a skull mask. Team Artemis, meanwhile, had three girlish figures. One was blonde, and dressed in ornate, flowing blacks and pinks, another was dressed in a double-breasted black set of robes with white hair in a braid flowing down her back, and the last seemed to have long flowing black hair, dressed in a bright blue robe similar to the style of Kain and his companions, though with some notable differences. Each of these contestants produced a "Danger" rating from Kain's scouter.

Next were the Hades and Poseidon teams. Each of these also expressed a "Danger" rating from the scouter, save two women, who warranted an "Extreme Danger" rating. On team Hades, three men stood tall. The first was one clad in golden armor, carrying a mace of great proportions, his sunken green eyes and shock of red hair upturned to the sky, a proud look on his face. The next was yet another armored man, this time in light studded leather and with two large rapiers at his waist. His helm weighed heavy on his brow, but his gait was the most calm and even out of all the contestants. And last, there was a shorter man, surrounded by a spear, a dagger, an axe, a mace, a chained whip, and a shield, all floating around him, some shrinking in and out of view at times, with a large, auburn afro adorning his head. Then, on team Poseidon, two men and two women strode forward as a group. The leader was a charming youth, with thick brown hair and dark eyes, dressed in simple seafarer's clothes. Behind him was another man, this one with short blonde hair slicked back, wearing a similar outfit, but bearing two large gauntlets. Behind the two were the women who had prompted the "Extreme Danger" ratings. One was a smaller, petite girl with blue hair combed over one eye, and the other was a taller, mature looking woman with silver hair cascading down to her hips and flowing freely.

Jackie watched as the Ares and Artemis teams filed in on one end, and Kain observed the Hades-Poseidon on the other. The teams shortly reappear, this time with hostages. The blue-hooded girl was lead by the Judge looking girl with the double-breasted coat, and both seemed at ease with the situation. Meanwhile, the seafarers' leader was being lead out by the girl with long silver hair. The two walked especially close together, and the pairs traded off in the middle with little fuss. Jackie noted with interest that, due to the team sizes, everyone who wasn't a hostage on the Ares-Artemis team was out in the maze, ready and waiting for the round to start.

Kain was deep in thought about the challengers that appeared for the Hades-Poseidon team, scanning over them and trying to glean any information ahead of time by observing their movements. The four that appeared were the silver haired girl, the girl with blue hair, the red-haired man, and the man with the various floating weapons around him. The short man and the small girl both appeared rather bored with the entire ordeal, the red-haired man stood tall, his posture the most composed out of all of them, and Silver Woman doing idle stretches in the meantime. Judging just from posture, I'd reckon that the Small Girl is the ace up their sleeve. She keeps chewing on her thumb, and her eyes are downcast. Introvert. Could be confirmation bias or projecting, but we'll see how accurate this Scouter is when the time comes. Short Guy also seems interesting. He's openly flaunting his weapons, and there's no device or mechanism attached. A psychic, maybe, or some strange battlemage. 


That Silver Girl has to be important to the hostage somehow. Body language like that, she likely has a lifelink to him, they're romantically close, there's something there. Gauntlet guy didn't show up, but maybe someone else covers him. That fencer is also... not here. Strange. So there's something Red-hair does that's similar to them, or better in conditions like these. Fencer probably needs room to move, Brawler probably gets shut down in a long-range fight. Or something.


The match begins, and on the Ares-Artemis side, Blondie stays behind as the other three rush forward, single-file, down one of the hallways. When one of them comes to a dead-end, they pivot and a new person becomes the leader. If they come to a fork, they send one off, and seem to call out to the others with coordinated callouts, and like this they progress through the maze. It's slower than the oracle-enabled first round, Jackie notes, but effective. Together, but not bunched up. They're clearly playing towards the teamwork aspect here. Perhaps instead of worrying about just success, they chose individuals who could satisfy the other categories more easily. Thirty up for grabs versus ten, is likely how they see it. So then, Blondie likely has something to keep intruders busy. 


The Hades-Poseidon team's Silver Girl jumps towards the open air above, but is quickly and suddenly stopped in her tracks, an invisible barrier stopping her from flying out and over the walls. Dropping back down, Small Girl climbs onto Silver Girl's back, flicks her wrist, and a wall suddenly appears down at the end of one hallway. Short Guy stays behind, and Red-hair runs after the two women, both of which are now flying, Small Girl carried on Silver Lady's back, her arms wrapped around the larger woman's neck. She zips down hallways, turning and calling Red-Hair down the correct ones.

Both teams continue like this for some time, before approaching each other in the middle. Scythe-man takes notice of Red-Hair, and sparks fly immediately. The two girls vanish from sight, and a shadow passes over Scythe's head. Skull-Knight dashes towards Red-Hair, sword at the ready, followed closely by Lady Judge. Red-Hair lifts his chin, pulling a foot back, and, as Skull brings his sword crashing down, splits into a swarm of bats, melting his flesh into dozens of swarming, squirming creatures. Judge's fists light up, and a burst of light shines forth as she strikes at the flying creatures, to little success. Skull tries to swat them off, but it's little use until Scythe reaches one long, bony arm forward and makes a fist, slamming it down. The mass of bats are thrown to the ground, before melting again into a roiling, boiling mud. Skull and Judge take their leave, nodding back at scythe, who keeps his eyes locked on his target. 

The two girls reappear shortly afterwards, having been flying through the maze. Moving at breakneck speeds, they come upon Blondie, guarding the seafaring man. Blondie notices and whips out a wand in one hand, firearm in the other, and takes aim at Silver...

Only for a man with a striking resemblance to her to appear, congealing from a mass of shadows that sprung up at her feet. She trains her wand on the mass of shadows, but as it coalesces, her grip becomes shaky and she takes a step back. The man steps forward in turn, reaching out a hand to touch her cheek. Blondie is in tears, weeping but standing tall. A tense moment follows.

Skull and Judge are continuing their pattern of ducking around corners, making callouts, and naturally clearing the maze as they make their way to their captured companion. Red-Hair has broken free of Scythe's grasp, now in his human form again, and are blade-locked... rather, Scythe's own scythe is bearing down on Red-Hair, who is physically grasping the blade in one hand, yet is not bleeding for his troubles. 

Blondie looks up at the man in front of her, as Silver and Small are casually strolling past her. She points the wand behind her, and a luminescent wall appears, blocking the man from rescue. Silver's eyes glow, and her fists become enveloped in the same pink aura. With a roaring right hook, the wall shatters, yet Blondie cannot look away. Closing her eyes, she whips the wand back in front of her, summoning a cage, filled with sharp iron spikes on the inside. The cage contracts, and the man disperses into shadows as the seafaring man's cuffs are unlocked. 

Blondie whips around, and fires one shot. In an instant, Sailor has stood up, and caught the bullet. Blondie balks, but fires several more shots, whipping her wand around in tandem. Sailor easily catches the rest, but in another moment, the hallway they stand in, as well as the surrounding area, becomes enclosed in ice, and the view is cut off. 

Scythe-man is badly wounded, but it seems Red-Hair, while not having sustained damage, is slowing down considerably. While he'd moved with impressive agility before, his movements now are sluggish, yet he moves exactingly, unwavering. Scythe reaches a hand towards the sky, one to the earth, and inverts them in a swift motion. He begins blasting out dark energy, a grey, rippling aura that pulses out and darkens the surrounding area. 

Skull and Judge reach their destination, and Short Guy wastes little time going on the offensive. Directly walking towards them, the dagger and spear spin as they launch towards the two, Skull putting himself in the way. The dagger bounces off his readied sword, but rebounds in the air and dives for his neck. The spear lodges itself in his shoulder, and continues spinning. He grasps it with one arm as the mace comes crashing down in front of him. Judge vaults over Skull's good shoulder towards Short Guy, grasping the chain whip hovering in the air and using it's position to run along the wall a short distance. A shield rises in front of Small Guy, but Judge raises her arms, as a light rune appears under Small guy's feet. 

Small guy makes his first expression other than "boredom" since the match started, eyes widening as he jumps back. An angel reaches up in the instant after his jump, grasping and clawing at the air above it. Judge continues making these runes appear as Skull gathers themself and strides forward. Short Guy dances forward, skipping from one spot to the next, moving back towards Judge, dagger now in hand. Despite his laid-back nature, his movements were the lithe, trained ones of someone intimately familiar with hand-to-hand combat. 

[Posting this for now, gonna finish tomorrow. Thanks for being patient.]

In the cold midst of her own icy prison, Blondie, also known to her companions as Zenan, was facing down three opponents and was losing.

Badly.

She'd lost most of the feeling in her left arm, which held her handgun, due in large part to part of her shoulder being missing, thanks to Silver Hair. She'd proven resistant to the ice and her barriers, and broke free of any restraints. Likewise, Hostage Seafarer kept zipping around, but never tried to directly engage, and was more committed to helping the Illusionist brat. Zenan had training in conjuring and identifying illusions, but that brat's were on another level... they were truly lifelike, making them that much harder to disbelieve. 

Buying herself some time, Zenan pointed her wand skyward, which put the other three on the defensive. A sheer cold wind blew, reforming the rugged ice cavern into a swirling, perfectly smooth tube, which shrank as it approached Zenan herself. Two of them could fly, but Hostage and Illusionist seemed to need footing of some kind, and the wind easily pushed those two back. Hostage was holding her hand, zipping forward in small bursts, and Silver Hair seemed like she was boiling mad. Good. Frustrating her was the best course of action for now. She knew once the other hostage was rescued, it meant little, since her own Hostage could zip himself back to safety, but if she could pin him down beforehand...

Her thought was cut short by Silver Hair charging forward through the air, pushing past winds so cold they formed ice crystals on her skin, and reached towards the small lip opening Zenan had left for herself. Zenan fired three shots directly at Silver, but they did little more than bounce off her skin, leaving bruises. Silver grasped that opening, and her hands glowed. Rather, it was a physical manifestation of her aura that enveloped her hand, like a glove made of light. She grasped the ice, crushing it in her hands, oblivious to her body nearly breaking down, her fingers freezing solid, the incessant drip of bullets against her cheeks. She ripped her arm back, and while she'd lost feeling in it, Silver succeeded in making a hole almost big enough for her to fit through.

To her surprise though, Zenan reached through and grabbed Silver, yanking her through the small hole. Part of the porthole crumbled, but it mattered little. With a flick of her eyes, the ice reformed, closing the gap as her hostage screamed out a name, a curse, it mattered little. Zenan stuck her wand under Silver's chin and muttered, "Sleep." Silver's eyes fluttered, then glowed. Through sheer willpower, it seemed, she was staying awake. "Slumber. Dark Slumber. Deepest Rest," Zenan chanted, and each time, Silver would resist, her eyelids fluttering at first, then her eyes wildly whirling around without a will of their own, unable to focus, but just barely staying awake. She jerked to and fro, but her limbs were frostbitten, so it made little difference.

Sighing, Zenan muttered one more phrase. "Jackson Five of Touch. Carry her." At her beckoning, a necklace brooch hanging low glowed green, and five strange humanoid figures sprouted forth from the light. The center of which, who possessed the most clearly defined hands and feet, grasped the woman like a bundle, and carried her behind Zenan as Zenan walked off, oblivous to the fevered, intense pounding of the ice wall behind her. If she couldn't maintain her own hostage, she'd take another. She had to buy time.
---
Scythe-man was in bad shape, but the man in front of him was worse off than he was. He's holding a pose, The Inversion of Heaven and Earth, and using the energy bestowed upon him by higher powers to push back the vampire before him. Julius was no stranger to the undead, but this was new to him. Normally, even the undead would be pushed back or battered by his turning powers as a cleric, but instead, the vampire stood stock-still, unmoving. He seemed to be saving the last of his energy for something, but what? Julius released the pose, then stood defensive, but still Red-hair didn't move. 

Julius stood up, taking the moment to rest. Neither of them moved for a while, but after a moment, Julius hardened his heart and reached forward with one hand. The vampire before him would surely die a glorious death, and take that experience forward with him on new journeys. "By The Hand Of Glory, I Give This Testament: Be Crushed." A massive, glowing white translucent hand appeared in the space between them, and, mimicking the motion of Julius' own, clenched into a fist, Red-hair vampire being caught in it. He didn't squirm, didn't react, but the hand squeezed, and shortly after the snapping of bones and tendons could be heard. Still he did not move.

Even still, he made no sound. He never stopped staring directly at Julius. Julius lifted his hand, then slammed it down. The fist raised accordingly, then slammed down, eliciting more breaking sounds from within Red's body. Still nothing. More slamming, and nothing happened. Eventually, Julius releases his grip...

...and in the span of his hand opening, Red lurches forward, grabbing Julius by his wrist. His fangs bared, Julius couldn't even react to look up in time as Red's fangs sunk into his neck...

Yet no blood was drawn. A moment later, Red leaps back, hissing and spitting, glaring at Julius. Julius himself merely shrugged. "I'm undead, too. Your move."
---
Orlando, the short man with various weapons, had been pushed back by this seemingly indomitable duo. They were but ten paces from freeing their companion, and he was the last one in line to stop them. The Skull Knight's sword was immense, and not something he could conventionally block or parry. The Judge wasn't a problem in close-quarters, magic or not, but her light spell traps meant death. He could smell it. 

Opting for a change of tactics, he silently commanded his weapons to detain and push back the skull knight, while keeping the shield close to himself. His chain flew out and wrapped itself around the hilt and hands, while the rest of his weapons bore down on the knight. Orlando turned his attention to Judge, putting up his fists and adopting a bouncing, peek-a-boo boxing stance. Judge kept her hands open and loose, her gloves glowing a searing white. A moment passes, and both strike out. They exchange a flurry of blows, and Orlando keeps eyes locked on her. Didn't matter what happened with Skull. Didn't matter how close they got to the hostage. Gilles was due back any minute now, and he just had to hold out until the guy teleported his way back... assuming that worked. 

With each block, strike and parry Judge's hands sparked with light, the sparks trailing and leaving behind searing after-images. Something was off, and he knew it, but didn't have time to figure out what it was. Orlando pressed his offensive, bringing his shield out in front of his face, bending low for a sweep, which Judge easily jumped over, and using the shield as a springboard, attempted to leap forward...

But Orlando ordered the shield forward, shooting out and slamming into Skull, who was being skewered into, cut into ribbons almost. Judge tripped mid-air, somersaulted, and came down onto Orlando's uppercut. Her eyes bulged and she coughed blood, but grabbed Orlando's foreharm. "HAMA!" she cried, and before Orlando could shake her off, the angel from before sprouted from Judge's gloves. 

Orlando looked up at Judge. "Hades, I beg thee my favor."

With a flash, Hades personally appeared in the ring, and all three contestants stopped cold in their tracks, pits forming in their stomachs. The angel that had gripped Orlando turned to Hades, who casually put his hands over the angels, and with a gentle squeeze, banished it, the angel disappearing, crushed to dust. Hades turned to Orlando, and with a single pat on the back, healed the injuries he'd sustained. "Keep up the good work, sport. Hang in there just a little longer." And with that, he was gone.

Skull Knight roared in pain. With a burst, lightning enveloped his body, then channeled itself into his sword. The energy subsumed the blade, melting the chains and pushing the floating weapons back. Judge leapt backwards, landing behind Skull Knight, as he sent a shockwave barreling down. Orlando put his two hands together, palms touching, extended his forefinger, and pointed back at the beam. Around the point of contact, the lighting split like water around a rock, and Orlando stood like a rock. But the feat took much from him, and he fell to one knee, Judge darting back past him. Unable to stand, Orlando meagerly commanded his weapons to move, but they were all reduced to piles of slag on the ground. His hostage freed, the walls came down, and the groups all faced each other. Before anyone could move...

Skull Knight threw off his helm, revealing a stony, blank, expressionless face. Pointing at Seafaring Hostage, the man Xile spoke calmly, "In the name of Ares, I challenge you to a duel, to take place here and now, amongst the goings-on." Behind him, Lord Ares appeared, bearing a sword planted in the ground. Ares simply nodded, and a red line connecting the two men's bodies appeared. Seafarer Gilles set his companion down, and walked forward. Xile strode forward in kind, his blade changing to one of frost. As the battle broke out again around them, Gilles zipped around, tagging Xile with mach-speed punches from various angles, darting in and out. Xile, less swinging the sword and more using his full body as a fulcrum to whip the blade around, he swung, creating an icy arena around them. When Gilles tried to escape, he was yanked, pulled back by the thread still connecting the two. Growling in frustration, he redoubled his efforts, even as Xile kept swinging around, finishing the circled wall into a dome. 

With a flick, the ice vanished, and a hum resonated from the blade. With one swing, Gilles was stapled to the blade by a gravity effect, then slammed into the wall. Gilles vanished, but each swing he was pulled close and sent flying. The fifth swing produced no result, and Gilles was hugging the top of the dome. In an instant, faster than he'd been moving... to be exact, Gilles teleported, and swung a right hook into Xile's eye. Xile's skull crunched, but he looked disaffected. Instead, he seized Gilles by the collar, who began running around the dome,  shoving and scraping Xile's head against the walls. Squeezing tight, Xile immolated his blade in flames, and swung. Gilles let go, ducking low, and the ice dome melted, splashing down onto them both. 

Gilles' eyes widened. He turned, and ran... normally, his speed gone, towards his goal, but Xile caught him by the scruff of his neck. Gilles turned, and...

"THE MATCH IS OVER! THE WINNER... THE TEAMS OF ARES AND ARTEMIS. CONGRATULATIONS CONTESTANTS!"

Gestalt could barely even try to process what was going on at this point. His thoughts were already preoccupied by the last round, and this one was just as difficult to comprehend. The man allied with Ares had been allowed to call out a duel when the match had seemingly already ended? A member of Hades' team called in a favor to simply slip out of death, and not only that, have his strength restored? So while teamwork was essential, if individual strength were overlooked, the two giants could well pull one of them into a duel to the death. And each member of Team Hades would probably have to be killed twice, with the possible exception of the 'fro-sporting weaponmaster.

That meant, for dealing with them at least, lethal options were in many ways less-viable. And they were formidable, that much was certain. But they weren't the opponents the group were facing next. That would be... Aphrodite and either Dionysus or Hestia, by process of elimination. Their teams. Looking at the banners, he confirmed that it was Dionysus, not Hestia, in the 12th seat of the pantheon. He'd never quite gotten that detail straight in his head, back when these were just myths he'd been taught about in school.

Glancing around the area while the gods conferred and officiators discussed the performance, the swordsman looked for the opposing teams they'd be facing. He remembered that the Goddess of Love and Beauty had chosen an assortment of strange people. He noticed the one with wolf-like features first - she stuck out, being more than a head taller than anyone else. Then there was the lady-feline one, a woman wearing very orderly-looking clothes with holding a baton, and a man even more bulky than the terrors who worked for Ares and Hades. They were certainly flashy-looking.

Meanwhile, Dionysus's group was made up of... somebody straight out of a fantasy novel, for one. Gestalt wasn't 100% sure what to think about the green-skinned man with brutish features, wearing a barbarian's getup. He knew he'd seen the imagery before, but he didn't know what to call him. And the man next to him was dressed like a vampire, himself. And he now knew vampires were real, after the last match. The last member looked like an actual monk - the religious type, not the type that hit things with their bare hands. Maybe this one did, but it was hard to say.

...The wolfish woman could probably cover ground quickly. That was worrisome. He couldn't even really make any further judgments on the others; the bigger guys were probably straightforward fighters, but they could easily be harboring secret powers. In short, they'd just have to deal with it in the arena and figure out counters on the fly. Sighing in resignation that his attempt to get information was largely useless, he took a few more breaths, trying to prepare for the match ahead.

There was one more thing that concerned him - one of the contestants had been assaulted with cold, to the point that parts of her skin had begun to blacken. He made sure to watch and see if the gods would restore her, as well, or if death was the only thing they would reverse for participants.

Dispatch raised an eyebrow. Ares and Hades, huh? Both the gods who had scouted him personally. The gods of war and death. He smirked a bit to himself. War and death had looked for him personally, and he'd gone with the god of "travels." And gotten roped into making a map for his troubles. If he'd known he could force people into one-on-one duels, he might have gone with Ares after all. A one-on-one fight was the only real test of strength, and what Saiyan needed an advantage to win?

None of the contestants in this fight had really caught his eye, either. Well, maybe the one girl who could summon winged people to drag her opponents to the grave, but seeing as her team had just lost, the chances of seeing her in the ring were null.

Actually, if there were four teams up at a time, and they'd just seen two matches, and there were twelve gods present...hold on, were they next? ...Wait, were they last? Damn it all, who would keep a Saiyan waiting this long?! Maybe he really should have gone with Ares. Now he was really itching to get in the ring...

...And they still hadn't chosen their hostage. Damn it all, again.

Kain sighed, leaning back in his seat as the match came to a sudden and eventful close. He was certain what transpired at the end was indicative of their patron boons, and they were game-changers to be reckoned with. Allowing them to use those made all the difference between victory and defeat, and furrowed his eyebrows. Perhaps there was something to what Hermes gave them beyond what it initially seemed. Perhaps it was more powerful than he realized. As he leaned, though, a finger pricked the center of his back, and he froze, before breaking out into a smile. "Ah, sorry Zero! Didn't mean to invade your space like that."

"No worries," she replied, before removing her hand. "You're up next then, Kain? Are you... worried?"

"Ah, nah, I think I'll be fine. I've got enough firepower myself, and the others are no slouch either. I'm sure we've got this in the bag, but I sure wouldn't mind a hint or two of what's to come..." He turned, a smirk on his face, to Isis and Finn.

The two were huddled close together, Finn with one arm wrapped around Isis, and Finn quirked an eyebrow as Isis beamed. "Spoilers, shithead. And besides, it doesn't even fit the rule. No hints, so get 'em. Just take a second and transcend." He shrugged like it was a matter of course. "Shame we didn't get to you before you'd signed up with them."

"Ah, but then where would the challenge be? It's just as well, though, whatever happens, it's not like the world is going to end." Kain's grin morphs into a wry smile. Again, anyway. "I'm off. Wish me luck, or don't!"

Jackie turned as Kain came down the steps, before turning her attention back to Lord Hades, who was finishing up his healing duties post-match. It was strange, the god had a kind, light smile on his face, compared to his usual smirk. The Goat Man and McMuscles strode up to the center, before addressing the crowd. "My good people! We have judged the two teams, and have agreed upon the score totals! Starting with the winning teams, Ares and Artemis! For the successful rescue of their hostage, we confer the full ten points! For their sportsmanlike conduct, we confer eight points! For an eighteen minute rescue, we can only confer a mere 4 points, as their rescue came second. However, for teamwork, we confer upon them seven points, highlighting their members and acting decisively. A total of twenty-nine points!

"For Hades-Poseidon! We confer three points to the hostage, who was not kept safe even after their rescue, and was put in harm's way! For sportsmanlike conduct, and tenacity, we confer seven points! For a thirteen minute rescue, and for rescuing first, we confer upon them six points. And for teamwork, though each seemed mighty, they did not work together as a unit! For this, we confer upon them four points. Twenty points, in total. Work hard in the coming rounds!

"With that, will the Aphrodite-Dionysus teams, and the Hephaestus-Hermes teams please step into your waiting rooms? Confer amongst yourselves, and decide your roles. The next match is in ten minutes!"

Before anyone could move or speak, however, Jackie spoke up. "I think we should have Theo, Dispatch, and Kain on the offensive, Jill on defense, and me as the hostage. When I backed down earlier, I had no idea the walls would go down once both hostages were free. Now that I know this, however, my idea has merit." She holds her spear out, level with the ground, offering a warrior's promise. Her eyes glint steely, filled with fire and determination. "It will work, and there's no alternative in my mind, no option to admit defeat. I won't back down from this."

Dispatch slammed one fist into his open palm. "Now that's what I like to hear! I get to bust some heads, you step up to the plate, they're goin' down!" His knuckles cracked. He had no idea who he was up against, and he really didn't care. Whoever had organized this tournament had saved him for last, so they were gonna get a show.