Organization XIV - The Story So Far

"Alright. Where is he?"

A voice echoed through the Time Nest, one that had become increasingly frequent over the past few months - though it had never echoed before, and that it was doing so now was oddly impressive, given that the speaker wasn't even yelling.

Trunks looked up and saw, sure enough, exactly who he expected - a shortish woman, though non less muscular than anyone else on the Time Patrol. Wild hair that fell past her shoulders marked her as a Saiyan just as clearly as the tail wrapped around her waist or the green-trimmed armor she wore. If he weren't used to it by now, though, her most eye-catching trait would have been the scars - two jagged ones, one that dominated her right cheek, and the other that spiralled up her matching arm starting above the wrist. They were perhaps more intimidating than the cold look in her eyes.

Trunks, of course, knew exactly who 'he' was, but the 'where' was the problem - not that he could say that. "Ah, wh-what are you talking about?" He was never a good liar.

The pure-blood Saiyan narrowed her eyes, glaring at her senior. "You know damn well what I'm talking about! He only saved the goddamn city three times! My teacher you insufferable moron! The one who went on a mission three days ago and didn't come back! Ring a bell?"

Trunks flinched, his teeth clenched together. Technically, this woman didn't have the rank to talk to him like that, but from the way she'd behaved every other time she'd been here, he knew - or at least, hoped - that she didn't really mean it. And of course, he didn't actually have the authority or the will to tell her he had no idea where Dispatch had gone. "Ah, well, you see, he, uh..."

"Don't you dare tell me he's dead, Trunks," the woman growled. "Don't lie to me."

"Trunks, it's fine," came a calmer, higher voice from a lower height, as the Supreme Kai of Time approached from behind. "We can tell her."

Trunks let out a sigh of relief. Hiding things wasn't exactly his specialty, especially when people were asking him directly. "Alright. The truth is, when we sent him on that mission, he was doing fine - great even, as we expect of him - but before we could even find out what was causing the distortion, the whole planet just disappeared, with him on it. Honestly, we have no idea what happened."

The scarred woman's fingernails dug into her biceps. "The hell do you mean you have no idea?! Why would you send anyone into a situation like that!? Where's the scroll, I'm going after him!"

"Hold on just a moment," said the Supreme Kai of Time, stepping forward with her arms crossed professionally behind her back. "I know we shouldn't have sent anyone in blind like that, but the culprit wasn't in any of the scrolls from that time period, or any time shortly prior, either. And we thought that if anyone could do it, it would be him. Trust me, we don't want to give up on him any more than you do."

"...Most missions are done inside an hour, and he's been gone for three goddamn days. Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"You gotta understand," Trunks stepped in. "We can't just tell people Patrollers are disappearing, and even if he is a hero, he's not exactly close with anyone in the city. E-except you, that is."

The woman grit her teeth. "You're not just letting this drop, right?"

"Of course not!" said Trunks and the Supreme Kai of Time in unison.

"...Of course not. Right. Obviously he's important to everyone here." The scarred woman sighed. When she continued, it was with a nervous calm. "Look, just. If you find out anything--anything--let me know. I don't want to feel like I'm sitting on my hands while he's floating in limbo."

The Kai and her advisor both nodded, and the Kai confirmed, "Absolutely. I'm glad we can count on you!"

*****

Dispatch made a sour face. What the HFIL were these things? Little shielded platforms on two wheels, was this some kind of race? Why would you race on wheels at a tournament like this? He couldn't have been the only one there that could fly! Not with how strong some of the other competitors seemed to be, how could they not have mastered something as basic as flying?

When he heard Magic Man call them "chariots" it didn't help. They were way too close to the ground to be chairs, and how would you fight sitting down anyway? What did this have to do with fighting? ...Maybe he could sneak away and challenge someone else to a match. Maybe one of the people who'd been knocked out yesterday, since he wouldn't get the chance going forward. Yeah, there's an idea.

Dispatch leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. The real question was, who interested him, that had gotten knocked out? Hm...

"So, we're to be gladiators now?" Gestalt mused, feeling his fatigue and drowsiness ebb away, replaced with a renewed excitement for the day's challenge. He slammed his fist into his palm, mimicking something he'd often seen his friend do, before local competitions. Something about the air atop this mountain had him thinking of home. "...I guess we kinda were before, though, weren't we?"

A mild frown crossed his face as last night's dream came back to him in muddled pieces. After the time he'd spent training and trying to come up with a meditative ritual of his own, it would be no wonder if he'd had strange fantasies. But something about it struck him as odd. He couldn't recall any dreams he'd had for the past... how long, now? But this one stuck in his thoughts, veiled in an obscuring mist.

Maybe it was simply an apparition of his worries from before he'd found his confidence? Perhaps that was it. He'd not been so unsettled, or so invigorated, in a long time. Small wonder it would have cause to disturb his sleeping mind.

"Well, Kain could probably empower his horse to pull the cart so fast he'd finish before anyone could attack him... but the cart might not survive the strain. I guess the most important things in this event will be one's driving ability, spatial awareness, and the ability to attack and defend against people at range, as well as close-up. Still, it's a bit silly to talk strategy before we even know the rules of the event. For all I know, we'll all be racing together."

He looked around for Team Hades - he'd been unable to find them after they left the night before. As his eyes darted about, he wondered which of their members they might send to the race, if it was one-fighter-per-team.

Perhaps Orlando's airborne dancing arsenal would make him the obvious choice. Shane was unlikely - something about the idea of a vampire in a chariot race struck him as profoundly silly. Jasper seemed like he might be familiar with this sort of thing, going by his attire the previous day. ...Though, there was something really weird about wearing a Roman centurion helmet to this event. Not that Gestalt knew the difference.

It was tense across the field, but only about half of the gathered participants seemed to be caught off-guard by the news. The other half, the ones that had been seen with Hercules after the first round yesterday, seemed pretty at ease, and were already strolling up to their own chariots and divvying up the work of strapping in someone at the front, and setting up two people in the back. 

“Today’s second round of the Olympic Games is the time-honored tradition of the Chariot Race! Contestants will need to complete ten laps around this three-kilometer track, passing through each of the arches along the way, to win! Points will be scored as always for teamwork and sportsmanlike conduct, and today, points will be given according to who completes their laps first! Points will also be scored for disabling other chariots! And any chariot that comes to a full stop, or whose occupants are ejected, are disqualified from further participation, and should move to the inner portion immediately so as to not sustain further injuries! The last rule: whomever is the one pulling the chariot, may not directly or indirectly interfere with the other racers, though you may support your own allies and defend yourself as you wish!”

Kain’s eyebrows furrowed intensely. “Stretch, huh. Finn knows I hate running… and I hate to break it to you, Gestalt, but it appears… it appears I may be the horse in question.” He pointed over towards Team Hades, where Shane himself was, ironically enough, already fit up with the straps and harnesses to make him the one to pull his own chariot. The man was eerily calm, as if this was a completely normal part of his day. 

“If I’m the one pulling, I can’t assist in the back. If I’m not pulling, then we need someone expedient… and not that we have a lack of speed between Dispatch and Jackie, but Jackie’s ability is new and our ability to not splatter against the rocks is like to be concerning in short order.”

Jackie was plumb confused at the notion that they’d be taking on such a challenge, and had little in the way of ideas. “I mean, we need to be able to maneuver, so I’m out by default except as a runner. My spear is my tool for fighting, and I have a little bit of hand-to-hand experience, but then my lightning is all I have to go on, and I only have so much of it. Gestalt, Kain, and Dispatch might be the best team for this. Kain can move or hit anywhere, Gestalt seems very competent with the sword and seems hardy, and Wild Child is… well. He’s kind of everything and a bag of chips.” 

Jackie glanced over at Team Zeus, who had harnessed Zero for their own chariot, and Finn and Isis seemed to be at ease up on the chariot… to the point where Isis herself was jubilantly looking out upon the other contestants. Nearby them was the Team Hera folks, who seemed indecisive about who they were going to harness up, but it seemed that the swordsman, Shin, or the ghostly girl, Guen, were going to be the ones to have to bite the bullet.

Meanwhile, out of all the other teams, one stuck out to her as markedly different from the rest. A beyond jubilant, almost lackadaisical, Gilles, the one who had been dueled by Xile the previous day, was half-harnessed and standing chatting with the rest while it seemed the blonde man who was with his group would be the lone rider. “Someone’s already got a trump card, and I don’t like the idea of it. Give them a wide berth.” 

Kain looked over but could only really sigh as he took in the other riders, and noticed that the Hephaestus group seemed also a little put out. Wandering over, he directly asked, “What seems to be the problem? Feeling your group might not have the speed it takes to keep up this time around?”

Theo looked down a moment before meeting the younger man’s eyes. “Put simply, I feel as though we’re dealing with a different class of power here. Goeiz has magicks that might be able to make up the difference in defending ourselves, but given the speeds we’ve seen everyone else perform at, we’d likely be lucky to come in dead and last, let alone dead last.”

Kain’s brow furrowed. “I suspect there’s still some team-based cooperation. Let me talk to the announcer and see if we can arrange something.”

Theo raised a hand to interject, but stopped and smiled instead. “Lead the way.”

"Seems a little demeaning to make horses of people..." The tiny swordsman shook his head. "...What is this, some kind of school sports festival?"

Looking at his team, he tried to picture himself pulling a chariot containing the rest of them. Laughable. He wouldn't be able to budge it with just one of them, let alone carry the team around the ring ten times. Dispatch could likely handle it, if anyone, but it seemed a dickish thing to ask of him. But he would also have to agree that it was the most sensible choice, and the guy hated to lose, it seemed like. A sentiment Gestalt knew they'd all agree with.

I haven't shown off my party trick yet. With the right timing, and if we're not too far away, I could potentially take a team out of the running in one stroke. Maybe. And while my strength isn't the greatest, I should be capable of parrying blows aimed for our vessel or Dispatch. And I have one last card up my sleeve, if I have to strike at a distance...


His hands tightened into fists. ...I'll get to see if my training has paid off!

Dispatch snickered as he saw the other racers getting yoked onto the strange backless carriages. "So, the guys pulling the carts don't get to attack, huh?" He looked at the rest of the group. Himself, the kid, Magic Man and Redspear the First. Yeah...yeah there really weren't any two ways about it, were there? He was easily the sturdiest of them if keeping distance wasn't an option and they had to take a hit, plus the carts themselves were probably made to stand up to even the most brutal attacks the organizers could come up with - so just destroying the things entirely would take a serious effort they probably wouldn't spare under the other teams' fire.

"...Ah, crap." Would it be against the rules to just carry the thing on his shoulders?

Herc turned to face Kain and Theo as they approached, smiling and waving as he did so. Stepping forward to meet the two of them, he asked, "What can I do for you? Are you here to inquire if your teams can exchange members, or something similar?" Seeing the startled look on Kain's face, he laughed softly before waving away his concern. "No, no, I know. Team Ares has only two contestants, so they had to work with dividing up who would be doing what with team Artemis. It's no surprise, those two have the fewest contestants out of any of the matched teams, but Ares and Artemis were steadfast in their decisions. They would know strategy better than I would, surely."

Kain's brow furrowed while Theo spoke up. "Then, is it suitable that we have an exchange of members? I would assume our teams are still to be working together under one united banner, then?"

"Of course! Your teams are to work together until the finals, which should be in two days. For now, you'll have another few minutes to decide before you need to be ready. If you need any help, or if you need the harness modified, simply flag down one of our assistants. There should be a few of them working with the other teams." Herc turned to make his leave, heading towards a side exit in order to continue performing his MC and host duties.

"It's strange that he's so forthcoming with information like this," Kain muttered almost to himself before looking at Theo. "He seemingly let slip a crucial bit of information at the end there, didn't he?"

"I had noticed the same, but I don't believe now is in any way the time to dwell on that. Let us return to our comrades and discuss our strategies." 

Jackie turned to Gestalt, then Dispatch. "Perhaps not a school festival, but definitely some strange sporting event. And what's the matter, Wild Child? Not up for the task today?" Jackie caught herself but a split second after the words left her mouth. "I, uh, I didn't mean--"

"So!" Kain called out to the others, gesturing for the Karr-Groth company to gather up and join. Jackie meekly looked askance at Dispatch before moving towards everyone gathering up. "We found out that we can mix and match with our teams, and I feel like the three keys to our success are: a fast puller, a defensive or close ranged combatant, and someone who can work with longer ranges to cripple the other racers or harry them and keep them off of us or unwilling to attack. I can work in any of these but given the other racers we'll probably need to set me and Dispatch for the pullers. Jackie's speed seems to rely on her lightning and spear, but maybe we can figure something else out later. For close-range, Gestalt seems like a reliable candidate, as does Theo and Brahaam. For range, we've really got a pick of the litter, but Goeiz and Jill seem to come to mind first. Perhaps for our end, we could have Dispatch, Gestalt, and Jill, and for the other, myself, Goeiz, and Theo, or Brahaam?" Kain turned to his own team. "What do you all think?"

Dispatch cocked his head slowly, a perplexed expression on his face. "Huh? Nah, just thinkin' it'll be hard to fight with a harness on. Prob'ly be easier to just pick the whole thing up and just run faster, but I'm not sure if that's cool." He crossed his arms, cocking his head to the other side. "Just kinda sucks I can't attack anyone directly if I'm pulling. Not sure how to swing that. And if I run too fast I'll prob'ly throw you guys off the cart. So, short version? Ah, crap."

"I'm sure you'll still have plenty to keep you occupied." Said Gestalt. "Other racers are likely to take shots at you, since if you come to a stop, we lose the round. And given the huge target on our backs, you can bet at least one or two of the other teams will try something."

Looking around at the chariots themselves, he tried to make note of any structural weak points. Defending those would be crucial in avoiding a sudden loss, and he could covertly sabotage the other contestants while in motion if he knew exactly where to hit them with a sudden corridor. The axel looked sturdy, though, as did the casings surrounding it and connecting to the wheels. That was reassuring, but given the herculean strength and arcane prowess of the competition, it wasn't unthinkable that they could be broken. Some people might even be fixing weapons to their vessels.

...Where did that notion come from? Huh. I suppose it's just something I've seen on TV...

The swordsman thought about how they could further fortify their ride, but every addition would add to its weight, which meant greater inertia to overcome, and too much would make it so Dispatch had to fight that force constantly as it tried to pull them further to the outer edge of the track. In fact, Gestalt's own slimmer frame and lower profile made him a decent alternative to the much-stronger Brahaam and Theo. Any additions to their carriage would have to be meant to improve aerodynamics and stability, rather than haphazard blades and spikes.

"...As for the fighters, I agree with the assignment." He gestured to Theo and Brahaam. "Which one of you feels more confident about running a whole race while pulling a chariot behind you, non-stop, with people trying to kill you the whole time? Like Dispatch said, it'll be hard to fight that way, whether it's with a sword or your hands."

Brahaam confidently stepped forward, a large grin on his face. "And it's here where my training takes the forefront. I'm used to working right next to someone, defending them as they move, and as they fight, without interfering; therefore, with my hand-to-hand, my fists able to halt blades as though they were the purest, greatest armor, and my ki, able to focus and strike at a distance, I am the better of the two. Theo would nearly lop a teammates head off if he were unused to fighting with them, and while it is not quite the fault of his own, his blade thirsts far more than what he might contain in such frantic situations. Allow me, my friends."

Kain mulled it over for a moment. "I think we're going to be attacked the second the race starts. There's liable to be someone who can act before we do, and I'm not sure about that Gilles fellow... the man with the speed and flight. He's definitely overconfident, since he's sitting everyone else out except for him and one rider. Brahaam and Goeiz, with me pulling? Goeiz and Brahaam have fought together so that's not an issue there. I can keep you two fed on energy if need be, as well as the other team. Finn's probably going to gun for us at some point, too, so when the time comes I'll let you improvise... but be warned it's liable to just as easily be a suicide mission."

"A little discomforting, perhaps, but I trust it would not be without it's own recourse," Goeiz commented drily. "Jill and Dispatch, while they haven't fought across from each other, nor with each other as of yet, I trust would be a capable combination. Gestalt has good instincts, Jill does too, and is capable of fortifying and overcoming gaps in any defense. Such is the nature of nature itself."

With that, Kain took to saddling himself, giving himself a good amount of distance, and summoning the appropriate lighter. On the side, the inscription 'Heavy Day' was written, and Kain felt a lump form in his throat from it. That day was one he wouldn't soon forget, but he had to move past it for the moment. The Zippo-style lighter felt heavy as a brick, despite hardly weighing an ounce, and having two function buttons on it: 'Gather' and 'Send'. Best used for supporting situations like this, and within the rules, he reasoned. As practice, he quickly transitioned the state of his limbs between solid, normal matter and fire, letting him levitate off the ground for just a moment, before reverting back, and pulling the chariot to the starting line. He quickly found his line, waving at Isis, Zero and Finn as he passed them, and silently noting a gesture from Finn as he passed. 

"The second the announcer calls for us to start, duck." Kain said simply. "If you don't... well, we'll find out, but Finn gave me a heads-up."

Jackie made her way to the inner circle with the other teams, nervously standing near Alle of Team Aphrodite. She could feel the glare of her previous captor, Arthur, boring a hole into her head from the racer's position, to say little of the direct animalistic hostility of Alle right near her. It was all she could do to not let it show, either through nervous tick or posture. Instead, she tried to keep her eyes on her own teams, and sent what goodwill she had their way.

"All racers, finalize your teams and adjustments, and make your way to the starting lines marked for you!" called Hercules. "We will be starting this race within one minute!"

The rest of the racers got to their starting positions, as denoted by the amount of points they'd gotten in the previous round. Thus situated, each of them got into position, all of them tensed for the starting signal. "On your marks...!" called Herc's co-host, it seemed, the satyr from before. "Get set...!"

Dispatch put the finishing touches on his own harness - the yoke was surprisingly well-designed for ease of use. But maybe not so surprising, since the carts were designed to be pulled by people, rather than animals. He tested the strength, giving the strap that connected him to his load a quick tug. Flexible, but firm, and elastic, but not too elastic. Good.

He cracked his knuckles, and mumbled to himself, "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

As the racers filed into their lanes, Gestalt ran over his brief checklist as he gripped the left side of the chariot, his knees slightly bent, ready for the starting signal. As the seconds ticked away, his trepidation ebbed into nothing, replaced with a laser-focus on the game. I'll make sure nobody scratches the paint on this thing.


In place of a one-liner, he just raised his fist.

https://youtu.be/Q7SJ8nCbPSk

"Go!"

In an instant, it was bedlam. In the kaleidoscopic fraction of time that took place between  that word reaching the ears of the racers in attendance and either of Team Hermes-Hephaestus beginning to move, Gilles from Team Poseidon had used his power of almighty speed and movement to reach their chariots, blasting through Team Athena-Apollo and Ares-Artemis to get to them. His first mate, Peter, was used to such speeds after travelling with his Captain for so long, and they'd discussed their plan: Get first place out of the running first thing, then dominate with speed to gain maximum points for themselves and pick everyone else out of the running.

Unfortunately for them, when you've always been there, and you have an immense grasp of time and the events that unfold, you become impossible to outrun, outmaneuver, and outperform, unless you achieve dominance over not just the physical, but the conceptual. This is what let Gilles escape unscathed in the singular moment of retaliation against him. Finn had foreseen this outcome, as did Isis, so they relayed the information to Zero as well, who took up her stance the instance the race was set to begin. 

As Gilles came crashing ever closer, his first mate Peter ready to take the heads of Team Hermes this lap, and Team Hephaestus the next. His fist, for a moment, was glowing a bright, brilliant gold, expanding in size to subsume the entirety of the group, and as he reared back, Gilles had to swerve out of the way, as Finn took off after them. Zero had swung a vacuum punch squarely at Gilles' head, and Isis had thrown several crochet sticks and a few syringes to boot, and quickly found himself with a squirming, writhing scarf trying to wrap up his feet. Finn chased after the two, keeping them to the outside wall. 

Kain, in his state, could only process the aftermath a full second after it had happened, and at that point, the other two had already spent two more laps fighting and contesting each other in a desperate bid to be rid of the other. Neither gained nor lost ground, neither presented an opening but many opportunities for one were sought out. Kain's body fully subsumed into flame, and he moved to press himself close to Team Hephaestus, but at this point, six laps were over, and Finn's team began to gain an edge. Kain, for his part was able to start speeding up and reacting, but this was always the crucial difference: Kain always needed a bit of time to build up, and if he could, he could meet or exceed what Finn could do... but Finn never needed that, so it was always Finn who bought time for him. Even for that instant, that moment, where all this was happening, 6, now 7, laps had been completed of the 10 required, and Kain was only just now able to move as he needed, but with the weight and responsibility of five others...

It began to weigh on his shoulders, and he felt a pit writhing in his stomach already. I can't lose another team to being slow like this... not again! He grabbed Goeiz's hand, and forcefully yanked everyone to the outside wall of the track, and began speeding down it all, that Finn might keep Gilles to the inside track and away from them. 

And by the time he had reached the first post marker, and the other racers had truly begun to start moving, the race between Gilles and Finn was done and over, though they still kept to their fight.

Dispatch had thought himself ready. He knew he wasn't the fastest Saiyan under the sun, but he'd thought he'd at least stand something of a chance, that he'd be able to handle the burder of a cart better than the others, or something. He had not been prepared for Potty Mouth and one of the sailor men to burst out of the gate so fast he could barely see them. He was used to supersonic fights, but that was on a whole other level. There wasn't a chance in HFIL he was beating them in a race.

But a mere heartbeat later, it clicked: he might not win now, but there was another round, and what a round that was going to be! And if he wanted to fight them then, he'd have to do his damnedest to place high now. So, like a shot, he took off from the starting line, only barely avoiding being lapped before he could so much as begin. There was absolutely nothing for it - he had to accept that the best he was doing was third place. Just like old times, except now it left an even worse taste in his mouth. The best he could do was make it so the gap between him and the next guy was as big as he could get it.

"Got a plan, hold on tight!" he called over his shoulder, giving his passengers but a moment to prepare themselves.

"What the hell is happen-" Gestalt managed to get out from his crouched position, utterly bewildered by the blazing winds all around them. He could hear the echoes from all around the stadium, reverberating within the frame of the chariot. Rather than waste his breath, upon hearing Dispatch's warning, he took a hand off of his sword and used both to strengthen his grip on their vessel.

No doubt it was complete chaos out there, and the Saiyan warrior had some kind of plan. Better to trust him than to do anything reckless and endanger their chances.

...What place are we in? I heard the sound of wheels blasting past us 13... no, 14 times. There... there aren't even 15 racing teams. Holy shit, multiple teams must've lapped us already. That's just not possible! ...Feh. "Not possible". I should know better after seeing the first round...

Kain started slamming down on his Heavy Day lighter, alternating between Gather and Send, slamming energy primarily into Dispatch so that the Saiyan wouldn't have to worry about keeping up or maintaining stamina, and sending out bursts of energy to Gestalt, Goeiz, Brahaam, and Jill. They'd just begun to round the first bend, and the first arch was past them now, but the sounds of combat ringing out behind them was deafening and a little close for his liking. 

Goeiz was flabbergasted by the start but pulled himself together to start weaving reality to match his mind's eye. There's little time to consider these impossibilities, as always. Treat it like any other aberration and cut through to the heart of it! Goeiz manifested a glowing orb inlaid with pentagons, each radiating outward from a point on the side of his and Dispatch's chariot. He continued muttering the words of arcane power bestowed upon him, turning the shield from glass-looking to metallic to a radiant divine light, before turning his attention behind him. 

Brahaam had been watching the back of the chariot, arms folded for the entire experience. So there are powers as immense as this, in worlds not our own. Would that we could even scratch these godlings even once! Perhaps now is the time... but before that, it seems we have company. One of the chariots behind them was being pulled by a woman in blue robes, not dissimilar to the kind worn by Kain and Finn. A blowing light blue crest of wind adorned her front, and gale winds covered her feet, swirling and amplifying each of her steps as she ran towards them. On the chariot she bore, Rozalin the gunner-mage and Mizore the divine martial artist had set their eyes on the Hermes-Hephaestus teams and...

BANG BANG BANG!!! The blonde one, Rozalin, had started firing shots at them that had gone wide thus far, and Brahaam calmly lowered himself into the same boar-charge-interception stance that he'd adopted in the exhibition match yesterday. A look at her eyes, her gaze, the muzzle of the gun glinting in the light of the sun, the muzzle flash...

TING! Brahaam slammed a fist down with the timing and grace of a man used to flowing in an exacting dance of chaos as the battles of countless bodies raged around him could, spiking the bullet into the dirt beneath him. As Rozalin kept firing, so did Brahaam keep dancing, his wrists and fists bruising but his body kept loosely dancing. 

[Lap 1 1/4 done thus far]

In the short time he gave the riders to prepare, Dispatch had already covered a considerable distance, in just two or three bounds. There was no fourth, as he leveled himself out and pulled the cart with his ki, rather than his physical strength. He hadn't thought he'd need it, and it had only come to him as a spur of the moment thought, but if he could pour his energy directly into moving, instead of worrying about coordination and timing, his top speed would be much faster. Really, given his combat history, he probably should have known, but in the heat of battle, it was pure instinct.

Only hoping that the cart would keep up with him, he put on a burst of speed, and a noise somewhere between a crack and a bang echoed out somewhere behind him.

As Dispatch began to reach a stable speed after his ludicrous acceleration, Gestalt poked his head out, now in slightly less danger of it snapping off from the sheer G-forces they were now dealing with. At first, he couldn't even tell what he was looking at, with how fast they had gotten, but he was able to adjust quickly enough. As they neared one of the track's tighter curves, he tightened his grip and knelt, to avoid being thrown off completely.

He breathed a sigh of relief at the energy Kain had been giving them. His hands were numb, and the wind bit into his cheeks as they shot along the track; prior warning and magical assistance were all that made this work. While it was disheartening to know that someone had beaten them to the end already, if they'd sped up so fast, no amount of preparation would've saved him from a messy death. The swordsman made a mental note to thank Dispatch later for his restraint.

Once he was able to make out more of their surroundings than a wild blur, his eyes focused on the competition; particularly, the two teams that continued to circle the track even faster than them, battling each other the whole way. One was Team Zeus, but the other was Team Poseidon. The former could keep the latter occupied, so he wasn't as worried about being overtaken and crushed by them, so long as they kept to their dance.

Now, this was all well and good, but his eyes wandered to one of the teams on their tail.


Wait... the blonde one has a gun!

He watched as Rozalin fired on the Hephaestus team's chariot, her shots all either missing them or being deflected by Brahaam. Well, on the one hand, the martial artist seemed to have it handled, on the other, it was unclear how he'd retaliate. Plus, when the fancy-dressed gunslinger saw her attacks were ineffective, she might just choose a new target: Gestalt, Jill, or maybe the chariot itself. Best handle it before it became a problem.


Let's see if it was worth it to stay up practicing this.



With his eyes locked on the gunner's team, he drew his sword and reared back, hurling it with all his strength. It spun through the air, the force of his magic keeping it aloft and keeping it from losing momentum. In fact, it seemed to accelerate unnaturally, the edges glowing as his spell did its work. He had aimed a little towards the inner part of the track, and while it meant fighting against the movement of the chariot, this course would send it arcing towards Rozalin, if his aim were true.

Mizore's eyes visibly grew wide as the thrown sword approached their chariot, but the girl in blue darted to the outside of the track, causing the sword to go wide. Rozalin, for her part, seemed frustrated at the current state of events, and swapped to her wand. Drawing an arcane set of runes in front of her, she closed her eyes and set about chanting. As she cast the spell, the sigil in front of her glowed, and then shattered, before unleashing a torrent of frozen icicle spears in her opponents' direction.

A clash of nature? Feel the scorpion's sting, child! Jill had patiently observed the other racers that had fallen farther behind before turning her attention to the trio of women trailing just behind them. With a flourish of her spear, she produced a heat wall, a torrent of flame that followed them and scorched the earth behind them, before pointing her spear at the chariot itself. A gout of sickly green liquid spat from the end of her spear, trailing in the air and landing on the dirt below. Glob after glob was launched this way, spattering the racetrack with venomous, scorching pools that ate into the earth. The girl in blue did her best to avoid them, but one nearly missed after she strayed too close to the ever-continuing clash between Finn and Gilles, and the spray splattered onto her clothes and the chariot, just missing the riders. 

The girl in blue began to scream as her flesh started visibly melting, the chariot slowing considerably as Mizore nearly threw herself out of the cart to heal the other girl, a bright heavenly light extending from her palm and soothing the wound. 

At this point, Rozalin had resorted to drawing a new set of glyphs as the cohorts to Team Artemis began to catch up. As the armored Xile began darting towards the Hermes-Hephaestus teams, Julius, riding in the chariot, turned his undead eyes skyward in prayer, and protective glyphs began to appear around his team and team Artemis. 

Even amongst all of this, the chariots they were riding in were suddenly shunted to the side as blasts of lightning and inky creations slammed into the sides of the vehicles. Across the way, pulling up the rear, the Athena-Apollo teams were working together to try and snipe at the Hermes-Hephaestus teams, but to little avail at the moment: Goeiz's shields held, preventing further assault for the moment.

[Lap 1 Gate 3 passed, Lap 2 impending]

Dispatch paid no mind to the madhouse behind him. The race was already over, in a sense, but if he let anything distract him, he wouldn't be able to hold his speed and get seeded high. Sure, flying decreased his need to coordinate, and it wasn't really any more tiring than walking, but he did need to keep pouring his energy directly into it.

A few bullets whizzed by his ear, but...they were bullets, since when did he care about those? He kept his pace and course steady, ready to change his height or lane at a moment's notice.

Amidst the chaos of what was behind them, it was what was now directly in front of them that would soon be setting the pace: a huge ice wall, sheer in it's rise and covering the entire width of the track, had been placed by Evelyn of Team Hera. Finn and Gilles, unperturbed by the wall, set to flying straight through the expanse; Zero's power allowed them to phase right through the monolith while Gilles' own chariot seemed to wink out of, and straight back into, existence, each time the chariot met the wall. The two seemed to be slowing down, as well, as the rate at which they were lapping the rest of the contestants began to flag. 

Kain looked over at Dispatch. "Hang tight! I'll push through, if you'll follow behind me!" Kain had no sooner gotten the words out of his mouth, though, before remembering the Saiyan's competitive spirit and willingness to push through... though 'smash' through seemed more accurate. "Or do you got this one?!"

For the Ares-Artemis teams, though, they'd adopted a different strategy: Mizore was half-leaned out of her own chariot, her hands glowing with holy aura, and Rozalin's eyes began to change from their striking emerald green to a crimson red hue. Mizore touched Julius' shoulder, and the holy light suffused instantly into his body, his eyes glowing with the same light. He put his hands forward, and amidst the chaos, bellowed, "RAY OF JUDGEMENT!" 

BZHUUUUUU! A monstrous beam of light rocketed forward towards the Hermes-Hephaestus teams, striking the mobile shields, and it was but a moment later that the one covering Kain started to crack.

[Lap 1 Finished, Lap 2 Gate 2 approaching.]

With his focus split between the oncoming glacial wall ahead of them, and the rush of attacks from behind, Gestalt was grateful for the barrier; as his sword flew right past its intended target and fell away, he opened a corridor of darkness in its path, connected to one near his hand - his spell drew the sword through the bridged space in an instant, appearing for all the world to have been summoned from nothing. He breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn't actually sure that would work fast enough; these corridors don't shift, so I couldn't keep mine open for more than a second while moving at this pace.


Sword back in hand, he expected to put it to good use soon; if Dispatch were to plow right through the wall of ice, the opening might not be big enough for the chariot to slip through. So he simply moved up to the front of the chariot, ready to trim some edges. He wouldn't be able to clear the debris if he tried to open a path himself, but together they were more likely to make it through unscathed, leaving an opening too small for the other competitors to reliably slip through. This hazard could well prove to be an unexpected boon.

Ice? This was what the others were trying to slow him down with? Ice? Really? Dispatch's disappointment would have been evident on his face, if anyone were making eye contact with him. Magic Man offered to help, and yeah, fire would be good for breaking down an ice barrier, but Dispatch had a faster, more self-sufficient way.

He drew back his hand, glowing with gold energy, and thrust it forward at the wall. "HRAAGH!" he yelled, releasing the blast to blow a hole clean through it, with perfect timing - he didn't even have to slow down.

Exhaling sharply, Gestalt rapidly sliced away at any remaining parts of the wall which stood to bar their chariot - he also took care to cut part any falling pieces, so as not to risk his or Jill's injury. This all took place in the space of around half a second.

Once they were clear of the wall, he looked back to see if anyone was going to follow through the opening. This might be a good chance to take someone out of the running.

The shield cracked and a massive wall neared. In the brief span he would have to cast the spell anew, Goeiz needed to drop the current spell's concentration and focus on the renewed shields. Jill could potentially offer support, but she was needed for another plan. How to accomplish any of this... Goeiz had a plan, but it'd require the strictest of timing. "Jill! Cone of cold! Make it count!"

Jill's eyes flick over and then back to the pursuing chariots. She feels a swirl as Kain seemingly targeted her and Goeiz for this next burst, even as the chariots sway into place. The shield splinters and fractures further, but Goeiz grits his teeth hard enough that his gums begin to draw blood as the gnome forces it to hold. The instant the opening was made, Goeiz's hands fly together to form a triangle and the man shouts from deep in his chest, "DIMENSION DOOR!" A purple haze of smoke springs to life an inch from his face, even as the beam itself nearly collides with the vehicle. A second door springs up on the very inside edge of the track, facing inwards. The beam enters the smoke near Goeiz, passing harmlessly through, and is shunted back out towards the outer wall. The Ares-Artemis teams rapidly slow for a moment, and it looks like they stop, but no such luck: their wheels continue to turn as they narrowly dodge the beam, and direct another one as a drill towards the wall. 

Jill releases her own spell, and a blizzard flashes outward, ice and sleet melting and melding to fill the hole as they pass through. Spotty in places, it seems to hold, and firms up the wall for now, as second divine blast impacts the wall, but finds no purchase.

Ahead, the slow moving Team Dionysus, pulled by Iitch, awaits, and Arthur's eyes flash crimson upon seeing the target of his shame and humiliation from the first round coming up behind them.

Dispatch, though, was moving much faster than Magic Man, and as far as he was concerned, glowing red eyes were as good as a glowing red flag - especially with the energy that was being funneled into him. He changed course, his high-speed flight slowing to a rapid hover that left a wake of dust behind him, to veer towards the Dionysus chariot - he couldn't engage directly, but his riders sure could!

"Guys, get'im!" he called over his shoulder.