Match of the Millennium

Description: Making landfall on the northern side of Honshu, Colonel Umberto Domenico, Italian Commander within the United Nations defense forces, has brought to full bear a fourth Gear army. Except, there isn't a Colonel Umberto Domenico in the ranks of the UN. And these are not Gears. A horde of Darkstalkers has been unleashed upon Japan, under the authority of the United Nations, as part of the peacekeeping operation. This exploitation of loopholes has offended the Elder Gods. Warriors of Raiden, beginning with Noboru and Faust, move to intercept the army of darkness. But when the time comes to force Colonel Umberto Domenico in a retreat, Zach and Frei must face the true form of the Commander... and endure, for the sake of Japan.

[JEDAH]
"You're looking a little pale, sir -- is everything alright?"

The Colonel's half-lidded eyes had been staring at the approaching coastline of eastern Honshu for a good long while. It'd be difficult for him to see much -- there's only a sliver of moonlight to provide light on the coast, the occasional ripple of waves on the turbulent seas. It'd be hard for anyone to -not- look pale in the green light of night-vision goggles -- especially the six-foot-three Italian. As the flat-bottomed boat rocks forward and aft, cresting one successive wave after another, the UN force commander sways only the minimal amount necessary to project an imposing presence upon the ship's deck. Metal crates four feet across shudder across the cargo deck, their securing straps straining with each wave. And still, the Colonel remains silent for another six seconds before his pale lips part.
"Your concern is noted, Ensign, but unnecessary. This is not my first trip on a landing craft."

The ensign really had -no- idea what to make of Colonel Domenico. He'd never served under the man before, and indeed, no one else had. There were no horror stories from prior officers, no tales of derring-do -- nothing at all. And the Colonel's lack of feedback has been... maddening, really. Only the ensign and two enlisted men accompany the Colonel on the landing craft -- need-to-know has kept them from knowing the contents of the crates.

Mercifully, however, the vessel is close enough to hear the waves crashing against the coast. Three miles inland from the projected landing site is the city of Hokota. From there, it's another seventy-some miles to Southtown. This is... far from the optimal route from which to assault the heart of Japan, but the Colonel expects it to be a fruitful journey all the same.

"Preparing for landing, sir."
Infrared spotlights shower invisible light upon the coastline, green raster lines showing the junior officers everything they need to complete their mission. The vessel's approach slows, as it draws parallel to the coastline, slowing its speed in the dark of night. There would be no one to welcome the landing craft -- and it's certainly not meant for a deep-water landing. This is an infiltration mission -- and a cargo drop, from the looks of it.

As the boat is anchored, the colonel begins to stride towards the egress dock, hands still folded behind his back. The enlisted men start to unfasten the straps on the crates, but the ensign has one more question for the taciturn colonel...
"We're... just leaving you here with these? How are you going to get them inland by yourself?"

The colonel stops just short of hopping off the boat, his medal-adorned epaulets glistening in the pale moonlight. He turns back to face the ensign, lips curling back to bare a row of dagger-sharp teeth.
"Need-to-know, ensign. Need-to-know. You've got your own missions to handle -- and I have mine."

The ramp is dropped -- metal plates digging into the sand of the coast, as waves continue to lap at the shore. Colonel Umberto Domenico strides through the waves, scarcely concerned as his polished leather boots sink into the saturated beach sand.

Still aboard the ship, a well-muscled corporal strains as if to lift the first of the two-dozen crates. Grimacing, he comments to his compatriot, "What the hell is -in- these things...?!"

The crate itself shudders, its sides beginning to split apart. The corporal soon realizes it's in his best interest to drop the box as an eldritch creature of metal, blood and muscle bursts out of the crate. Rising to six feet in stature, the bipedal creature's 'head' whips to the left, and then the right, before leaping to the side of the colonel with a loud splash.

A moment later, a second crate begins to shudder, straining at the securing straps.

"Don't worry about bringing them to shore, Corporal. As you can see -- they're quite capable of moving on their own."

[FAUST]
Rumor has it that the darker the night, the brighter the stars shine.

That's only really if there aren't any clouds, isn't it? "Come now, I'm a medical professional!" A voice declared to an Ainu, "What could be better than ensuring all of humanity's continued survival! Certainly, it might be more of a home remedy than I'd prefer, but sometimes the cure is a long shot!" The mouth that spoke these words - there isn't one, actually. A tree of a man, tall and built like a stick, is crouched and compressed so much that he is forced to look up to the Ainu woman. The conversation continued - and while Faust didn't like the idea that the illness was an elder God from another plane of existence; sometimes treatment isn't as simple as take two and call me in the morning!

How to /help/ though? Well, it would be an answer that would just /come/ to him, he's certain. The good Dr. found himself in his 'office', a run down shack somewhere in Southtown that he was using to treat some of the worst off from the various violence and threats due to the occurrences in Japan and around the world.

Pouring over the pages in the middle of the night, the bag-headed doctor drummed his fingers against the creaky wooden table. "None of these readings make /sense/. Infusing magic into a living organism shouldn't WORK like that!" The GEARs. "This goes far beyond the normal realm of medicine! Why, if this knowledge could be dispersed! Hmm... but should it?"

A nurse, a face whose mask is her entire face covered with gauze and a black ! scrawled atop it, speaks. "Dr. Faust! It's urgent!" The clipbord clasped to her blue medical scrubs is thrust towards the desk and placed atop it. With a long hand, Faust picked up the clipboard and peered at it, the 'eye' telescoping from the bag hole to peer at it. An operation!? At this hour!? "Why!! Thank you nurse, I'll get back to this later... take care of my patients while I'm gone, will you?" One hand clasps his traveling bag, the other remains on the clipboard as he strides forth the long hallway ... what long hallway? Why, attached to the door that is behind his chair.

There wasn't one there moments ago.

"Hmmm..." SouthTown Operating Table emblazons the top of the scrawl for the report, as Faust strides ever closer to the Operating room - a green lighted title flashing above it. "This IS rather urgent!" The man declares, nodding his head in between steps. "They should have called sooner!" His hand clasps the door and swings it open.

The Colonel may be familiar with the unknown. Even then, it might be a little stretch for the next few seconds. Sensors detect something wrong almost immediately as the ground suddenly changes, sand, dirt and sediment modified to a charming cypress finish, hand-crafted to soothe any uncertain hearts. That anyone who passes through his arch would be healed by the hands of the good Dr. Faust! It swings open, upwards, with a man's hand attached to it. Then comes the foot, long and lanky, the rest of the Doctor following through as he stands all of nine plus feet tall, clasping a scalpel roughly the same height as he is!

"It's worse than I thought!" He declares, just as he steps through, pointing towards the 'unexpected' assault.

Combat tactics, however clever, don't always work when your opponent simply bends the rules. "I usually don't make nightcalls, you know - but this seems urgent. Hmm. What /are/ those things?"

[NOBORU]
Far to the northwest, the starry horizon is lost in a sea of swirling black clouds. And though the air here is pregnant with tension, heavy with the sense of an impending storm, the sky remains clear. Soft silver moonlight bathes the deserted beach, fine grains of sand rippling in gentle mockery of the waves that crash against the shore.
The night is idyllic. At first marred only by the swaying bulk of the anchored craft as it squats at the edge of the water, soon enough the once picturesque beach is swarming with nightmarish shapes, mockeries of the human form that lumber their way into something resembling ranks.
It seems as if the attack will go off without a hitch. Over half of the monsters have already disembarked. There is no sign of enemy action. No champion planted foolishly in their path.
Or there wasn't, right up until the ground opens up before the good Colonel and a lanky monster of a doctor makes his presence known.
And then, everything explodes.
Concealed beneath the gently rippled dunes, row upon row of hand-crafted anti-personnel grenades detonate all at once, filling the air with razor-sharp shrapnel. Metal-reinforced shells simply vanish, liquefied in a spray of gore as sand, blood, and body parts are catapulted in all directions. The sound is deafening, a thunderous BOOM accompanied by a localized tremor that lifts two thirds of the beach into the air, then dropped in a rolling wave of concussion.
Half a second later, a series of muted THUDS rock the gently swaying landing craft, its great bulk shuddering, then beginning to list heavily to one side as it is scuttled with brutal efficiency.
Could the strange Doctor be responsible for all of this? He must be. After all, he's the only figure who has dared to stand in the Colonel's way...
SNAP.
Behind the imposing Italian, the wet crunch of bones is soon followed by the sound of a heavy body hitting the sand. And though he isn't in a position to have seen it, Faust had a front row seat to the sight of a battle-scarred hand dropping atop the head of the surviving creature posted to guard its master. Could clearly see as a muscular dark-blond man in a worn blue robe gripped the creature by the top of its skull, giving a sharp backward jerk as his other hand powered forward, erupting out through the monster's chest in a cascade of displaced organs.
Allowing the body to drop with stony-faced contempt, Noboru Miyama, the Iron Shinobi, strides free of the sea, wet robe plastered to his bulky form.
"Return to the place in which you rule, demon lord." Noboru rumbles quietly, taking up a threatening position opposite of Dr. Faust. Though half of his face remains hidden behind a wet silk mask, the cold stare leveled by his good eye, and the grim finality of his tone makes it clear that the imposing commander is not welcome here.
You know, if the bombs weren't clue enough.

COMBATSYS: Noboru has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Noboru           0/-------/-======|

COMBATSYS: Jedah has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Noboru           0/-------/-======|=------\-------\0            Jedah

COMBATSYS: Jedah has joined the fight here as a boss!

                               JEDAH                                
  [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|------------===                


[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Noboru           0/-------/-======|

COMBATSYS: Faust has joined the fight here.

                               JEDAH                                
  [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|------------===                


[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Noboru           0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0            Faust

[JEDAH]
The colonel continues to keep his arms folded behind his back, even as one crate after another falls apart, revealing another unholy creation to the moonlit skies. He is a patient man, but the plodding pace humanity's rules have imposed upon him are wearing even his patience thin. To turn his hand so soon would be to upset the delicate balance he hopes to preserve.

But no. Something is... amiss. His brows crease in a look of mild concern, as his red irises scan the beach coastline, host to a resort community just a short distance to the south.

His pale skin tingles. And immediately before him --
A blond eyebrow arches at the new arrival, red irises cropped by narrowing eyelids.

The calm, collected voice of reason is delivered with barely-parted lips. "I'm afraid that information is classifi--"

His voiced thought is interrupted by a series of detonating explosives, but his gaze never really strays from the good Doctor before him -- a sign of his complete cognizance, and possibly tacit acceptance, of the mayhem erupting behind and beside him.

"-- Classified." He concludes after the echoed explosions begin to fade away upon the lonely shore. The shouts of the terrified crewmen as they execute emergency procedures is but a pittance to the carnage unfolding so close to the colonel.

And then right behind him, the lobster-like carapace of a Bladereaver digs into the sand, its neck snapped apart by a brutally efficient sneak attack. The serrated blades upon its arms sink into the sand -- they will be of no use to anyone. And for the moment, it seems that the rest of the Bladereaver squad has been dispatched, as they lie quivering in bloody heaps, their weapons clacking lightly against the sinking deck of the ship, and writhing about in the sand.

And then Colonel Umberto Domenico is called... a demon lord?

The colonel raises one slender finger in extended response to the doctor's query. And bows his head in a smile.
"Please forgive the intrusion."

A moment later, a pool of blood bubbles out of the sand immediately beneath Noboru's feet. That will be his only warning -- for an instant later, a double-edged bastard sword, easily eight feet in length and four inches across, erupts out of the pool with the blistering speed of a weight dropped from a fifty-story building. If he is not able to dodge, he will find out exactly how that will feel as it plunges upwards into his inner leg, driving outward at a macabre angle.

"The welcoming committee here is quite rude," he explains.

[FAUST]
"Oh, classified? But you must understand, I'm a Doctor! Isn't it obvious? I'll consider it Doctor patient confidentiality. If I'm to operate on them, it could otherwise be-"

The explosions tear through the beach. Faust's eyehole swells in surprise, a cry of surprise emitted from the good Doctor as the explosion reaches outwards, swallowing beach and monster. Faust seems like he's seen a ghost! Unlike Noboru, he is anything but calm as the beach explodes! "I'm not a battlefield medic!" He cries out in surprise as he is launched skywards! Spiraling comically, Faust also seems to be on fire as he is launched skywards.

There is a PING in the sky as he apparently leaves visual space.

With one of the two completely out of the way, the good General is able to focus upon Noburu, even as he calls the man a Demon Lord. Faust is slightly indisposed at the moment, but will return your call at the next free time! Or so it may seem. Bladereavers to the left of Noboru, Bladereavers to the right! Does that leave Colonel Umberto Domenico talking to thin air?!

"it's quite alright!" Comes a declaration from the sky, an umbrella floating upside down driving towards the ground carrying Faust atop it, before it right-sides-up, letting him, slightly smouldered, come to a stop! A two fingered salute, pinky and pointer, thumb included, are given as he lands. "I'm here after all, and can't simply neglect my duties! Wahahaha! Ohhh.... but that explains the odd aura I feel, hmmmm... and those don't look like standard tools." The doctor remarks, a hand under his bag-chin. "In such a secluded area also...! Ah! Blood!" The doctor simply can't avoid it. "Wa hahaha... that much blood already? That's no good... no good! We'll have to operate IMMEDIATELY."

The black space behind the bag has a tinge of red, "Remember what I said about Doctor patient cofidentiality? I'll make sure whatever I find out about you... stays confidential! It's a PROMISE! WAHAHAHAHAH!"

The tall man takes a step forwards, grasping the base of the scalpel and thrusts it towards Jedah with reckless abandon, twisting it towards him as he aims to spear him in the chest and pull him closer. It's a very, very, heavy thrust actually - but interestingly is done with such surgical precision that it may only sting a little!

COMBATSYS: Noboru blocks Jedah's Thrown Weapon.

                               JEDAH                                
  [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|-----------====                


[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Noboru           0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0            Faust

[NOBORU]
Out of the two obstacles that have set themselves before the Colonel, Noboru is by far the more stoic. Standing tall in the drifting smoke, bare feet digging into the fine sand, he tilts his head slightly, glancing passed the oddly calm Italian. Or that is how it appears, as his good eye is no longer aimed at the man, and his bad eye, milky white as it is, must be sightless. Right?
If one could see as the hulking shinobi does, they would know that his scarred eye is anything but blind. The world burns, a riot of shifting energies. Auras, vast and otherwise, psychic impressions, the slow and unfathomable pulse of the earth's heart, throbbing all around them. And beneath his feet, gathering invisibly, fine lines of deftly woven chi.
A summoning? Perhaps a portal? There is no time to read beyond the basics. Barely enough time to react at all.
Snapping forward at the waist, the Iron Mystic thrusts his right fist down with brutal force, air forced from the path of the blow in a swirling gust. Perhaps he can not stop the attack from happening, but a single well placed blow should be able to--
The tip of a sword breaks through the churning red mass, hurtling up toward the inside of his left thigh. Fortunately, before it can reach him, his knuckles impact one edge of the blade, sending the weapon tumbling off to the side with a vibrating hum, as if it had struck stone rather than flesh. Even before the quivering sword drops to the sand, Noboru's fist ploughs into the bloody ground, striking a point just off center of the portal.
With a rush of air, the gathered energy is released into the surrounding earth, a 15-foot radius circle of sand centered on the impact beginning to emit a faintly visible red glow.
Well, that worked. Futile as it might have been, it worked. And now, the next step.
Extracting his bleeding fist from the ground, first three knuckles sliced open to the bone, the hulking ninja explodes out of his crouch, closing on the Colonel's back at nearly the same moment Faust lunges at his front. Coming in low so as to avoid getting scuered if the tall man were to dodge, Noboru rotates his entire body behind a driving half-fisted blow for the commander's left kidney, attempting to drive the strike deep, passed skin and reinforcing tissues. To send a ripple of force through muscle and fat, rupturing the organs beneath.

COMBATSYS: Faust successfully hits Jedah with Rerere's Thrust.

                               JEDAH                                
  [     ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|---------======                


[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Noboru           0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0            Faust

COMBATSYS: Jedah dodges Noboru's Fault Line.

                               JEDAH                                
  [     ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|---------======                


[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Noboru           0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0            Faust

[JEDAH]
The calm colonel finds himself talking to the vacant space where the Doctor once stood -- and as rude as the explosive welcoming committee may have been, he finds it almost -ruder- to have been left alone in mid-conversation.

Blond eyebrows lower as he pivots on a heel to face the Iron Mystic, delivering his rejoinder just in time to see his blade intercepted with Noboru's fist. His expression softens -- indeed, one eyebrow pitches upwards in an approximation of wonder. "... Though that was quite a novel response." Amusement flits across his lips, lit by the the dim moonlight.

All around, the bladereavers continue to twitch. Though -- in a troubling sign -- the motions have intent, and purpose. Disembodied blood and gore begins to return to its respective host bodies -- and what's left of said bodies seems to be pushing upwards, to stand anew.

The Colonel nods in appraisal, folding his hands before him in a gesture of accomodating tolerance. "Such potential, directed into such wasteful efforts. Your country burns, and yet..."

The Colonel tilts his head to the side, emphasizing a dramatic sigh as Noboro winds himself into a dramatic and surely impressive strike -- but with almost the same casual grace, he leaps three feet to his side, the rapid movement registering as naught more than a blur. Chuckling to himself, he shakes his head -- amused at being interrupted by yet another strike.

And yet...

Almost immediately afterwards, the doctor's scalpel is upon him. The Colonel's impending words are withdrawn, as his face contorts into mild frustration at the doctor's overcommitted strike.

He expected reservation -- he expected rational order. And yet, before him is Doctor Faust.

A blossom of red spatters outward from the point of the scalpel as it pierces the officer's chest, severing cloth, flesh, and bone alike. As the crook of the blade digs in, it catches on what must surely be the colonel's breastbone, tugging the tall Italian forward and bringing a distasteful frown to his face.

"Would this be a 'hidden camera' program? For surely, you two are the perfectly mismatched couple..."
This, he says, while being drawn towards Faust.
This, he says, while his hands flatten, his nails turning red. And ten talons grow into piercing needles, aiming to impale the doctor squarely in the chest as he returns the favor, even while his own chest wound continues to drip crimson vitae onto the sand.

COMBATSYS: Faust interrupts Heavy Strike from Jedah with From ...??.

                               JEDAH                                
  [         ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|-------========                


[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Noboru           0/-------/---====|=======\-------\0            Faust

[FAUST]
Bodies that ... reintegrate. /Reform/. The mere THOUGHT of it makes Fausts inner urges bubble to the surface. In earnest, usually they bubble just as strongly! Usually, though, the oath to preserve life is strong. Usually it has a purpose. Usually the host would /die/.

The bladereavers know nothing of death. They know only life. Faust's bag-eye widens in wonder as they rise to the host bodies, standing anew. This is not lost on him as he thrusts the scalpel forwards. As it digs in, the sounds of flesh and blood caved, spilled, echo. He remembers. He cannot forget. Every drop from the time before.

The frustrated look on the Colonel's face are lost on Faust. THe blossom of read is far more exciting. Far more /desirable/ to focus upon. Eye focuses on the damage the scalpel inflicted. The wound that has been so perfectly made in his chest. Oh, was it perfect? No. Certainly not. To him, it was. Especially with the wonderful blossom of red.

"I .. Wahahaha.. I should compose myself, it's all too becoming you know... it's been a while since I've seen such... no, been given such a wonderful chance!"

He literately wipes the sweat off the paper-bag brow. The paper bag isn't even drenched.

The tall Italian is brought forwards. He is dragged along for the ride - and Faust knows just where the blade must have impacted. It was not the first time the scalpel had made such an incision. Most would not survive. This man - hardly even bothered. "So what he said is true, and those things! They're so wonderful!" Faust exclaims, going further and further from the normal calm and collected face he puts on. Like a man before a feast, he tries to resist digging in.

The nails on the hand flatten. The sign on the feast reads 'Now Serving'.

"... It's true!?" A demon. A DEMON. One that, clearly, can bleed quite well. As the Colonel drives towards Faust, the tall lanky doctor grasps a cloth from behind, throwing it over himself. It is a charming picnic table cloth! The man disappears beneath, leaving a lump that is clearly Faust. The Colonel's nails dig into the lump as he drives towards the good? Doctor. He can feel blood. He can feel flesh. He can feel... the cold, morning air?

The cloth falls to the ground.

So does Faust, appearing directly above the Italian, blade driving downwards, a purple energy around it as he drives it into the man before bounding off, scalpel and all, spinning into a crouching position on the ground. "Wahaha..WAHAHA! It's wonderful! You don't even mind being cut up, do you!? Think of all the wonderful surgeries I can perform on you and those THINGS! They're perfect!"

The good doctor seemingly barely repressing his urges. The urges for more of that crimson fluid to stain the sands ALL around them. ALL OF IT. Every. Single. Grain.

[NOBORU]
It's true.
If this were some sort of candid camera moment, it would be difficult to find two less compatible personalities than that of Faust and Noboru. In fact, the only thing that seems to link them together is a desire to stop this invasion. How they individually came to that shared desire would likely be an interesting tale in itself, but now is not the time. Now, is the time for violence.
Planting his bare foot in the sand, Noboru tears a deep furrow in the beach, tossing grit and dust over the half-healed torso of a wiggling monstrosity. But even against overwhelming odds, with regenerating monsters putting themselves together on all sides, the stoic shinobi remains focused.
"Remain focused." he rumbles toward Faust, rounding upon the pair even as the good doctor springs free from his latest, spectacular reversal. "These creatures thrive on the will of their creator."
Having no further time to talk, and no interest in banter, Noboru throws himself at the partially transformed commander, leading with a quick, hopefully stunning punch aimed precisely for the tall man's right temple. This is followed by a short but brutal series of strikes, the first a descending blow of the shinobi's right hand aimed to drive battle-hardened knuckles into the commander's right thigh, second a stepping blow for the right shoulder, and third a twisting hook meant to catch the pale man in the side of the throat and hurl him to the ground for a final, heavy stomp of bare heel to the back of his neck. Each motion is short and to the point, as efficient as the shinobi himself. Unfortunately, quick for him is not exactly quick for other fighters. But still, between himself and Faust, perhaps they can keep the monster on his back foot...

COMBATSYS: Jedah blocks Noboru's Sacred Cairn.

                               JEDAH                                
  [            |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|------=========                


[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Noboru           0/-------/---====|=======\-------\0            Faust

[JEDAH]
The boat has all but sunk; only the barest portion of the vessel remains above the surface of the water, the waves rippling outward from its hull eclipsed by the crashing tide. The naval officers were able to get to shore without too much fuss; the ensign is gawking, slack-jawed, at the sight unfolding before him. The Colonel was so dry, so spooky -- and now he's not only -talking-, but baring his nails and dripping blood everywhere?

The first clue to the Colonel's demonic heritage is that, yes, he's standing -- but the second clue is that his breastbone is not like any other human's breastbone. The bone is more flexible -- more akin to cartilage than the hardened bone typically associated with an adult male specimen. And as such, it doesn't splinter under the pull of the scalpel -- it just allows him to get pulled along for the ride, disquieted frown and all.

The Colonel is able to land his stabbing strike, barely hindered by the decorative (and somewhat gaudy) tablecloth, miniature rivulets of blood spouting forth in the process. But what happens next does, indeed, surprise the Italian officer -- for his hands are tugged downward, and in rapid succession, the oversized scalpel slams into him from above. Purple energy drives the blade into his epaulets, spearing right through the embroidered cloth and biting right into what would surely be a bony process, if it were a human and not a monstrosity.

Crimson vitae spouts outward to coat the blade, its hue skewing towards violet in the glow of the Doctor's energy. The Colonel grunts in dismay, his long limbs flailing out to either side for balance. He catches himself with one hand as his hat is knocked aside, perfectly-combed blond hair revealed to the moonlight glow.

And now, his eyes glow red, as his palm slams against the ground.
Not just for emphasis.
But to cause crimson pools to surge beneath the naval officers.
A moment later, hands sprout out of the pools -- and jerk the navy men inside.
After all, they did not have the prerequisite clearance to view this -highly- classified information.

The colonel tumbles forward, freed of the confines of Faust's scalpel. And as blood continues to pour, he sweeps his wounds over the ground in a curved, sickle-shaped pattern.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Doctor."

In an instant, the blood and sand fuse together -- or so it seems. For as the blood changes color, from oxygenated scarlet to ruddy crimson to dark carbon, it also loses its luster -- and coagulates into solid form.

Colonel Umberto Domenico lifts his hand from the ground, and with it, the terrifying curve of a reaper's scythe.

But the Iron Mystic has not halted his assault -- indeed, he's already moving to strike. The colonel clucks his tongue, slits widening in the blood-red gaze he directs now towards Noboru. "You have no earthly idea," he coos, twisting his wrist. The scythe flattens, Miyama's hardened knuckles meeting just below the insidiously sharp sickle. The second blow meant for his thigh is caught by the haft of the scythe, fortified by the palm of the Colonel's other hand. A slight adjustment of the weapon is enough to parry the third strike away with a 'thock' against the shinobi's wrist. His fourth blow -does- manage to batter its way past the demonic colonel's guard, but it impacts his already-weakened shoulder with a sickly spatter of blood.

Domenico will not allow further intrusions upon his personal space at the moment, stepping backwards with a blurred motion to a space roughly ten feet distant. Red irises fixate on the two aggressors in turn. And his mouth splits into an insidious smile.

Shoulders shrug. Arms are flung backwards -- even that nasty, aggrieved shoulder makes a snapping, popping sound as if re-seating itself. One hand clutches tightly at the haft of the eight-foot-long scythe. But most notably, within the span of a second, the fancy Italian uniform disintegrates into shredded scraps of fabric.

The Dark Messiah is revealed.
His purple Italian coat, trimmed with gold -- with gaps for the recent wounds. But even those gaping holes are shrinking, the sinew and cloth rapidly stitching up, right before the two men's eyes.

The scythe is swept to the side, as the Demon Lord bows in a magnanimous gesture. "Kneel before Lord Jedah Dohma, my dear Doctor -- and He shall grant such bounteous gifts! An infinite plethora of test subjects, ripe for the taking!"

A tempting offer -- and likely the -last- time he shall make the offer before resuming his onslaught.

COMBATSYS: Jedah's veins glow with brilliant crimson light!

                               JEDAH                                
  [        |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|--=============                


[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Noboru           0/-------/---====|=======\-------\0            Faust

[FAUST]
The /amazing/ thing about this man, Faust can tell, is the way his skeletal, muscular, and other systems just seem to /ignore/ proper human systems. No, humans are NOT supposed to ignore being stabbed through! They aren't also supposed to blossom red flowers from their chest and casually strut forwards to assault. They most CERTAINLY do not have cartilage mixed in with bone almost haphazardly - unless. Unless there was more /to it/. More experiments would need to be done. More incisions to be made. MORE -

"E-Eh? Oh! Oh my! Yes oh my myyyy I seemed to get ahead of myself, haven't I! And not to ignore you..." Faust stands, looming tall over Jedah and even Noboru at a nice 9'3". "I imagine we ARE odd bedfellows, aren't we? But it's really to be expected these days! ... Huh?" The bagged head tilts a full 180 degrees to watch those hands pull free of the crimson pools, navy men being pulled down inside of them. The Colonel shows himself to be not the Colonel - but a true, flesh? and blood? demon. Wiggling his finger, head still twisted far inhumanly, the man shakes that head - coated with a bag that isn't sliding off. "Why of course not! Yes, step by step, right?"

The sickle blade of the scythe blocks the ninja companions strike, and though Domenico may retreat, it is faster than Faust's eye can comprehend. No. Faust wouldn't even be able to reach him, arms and scalpel included, from here. "Right out of my reach as well! Braa-vo!" Faust declares, head snapping back to normal orientation. Yet... All the blood - yes Faust is trying to focus by talking, by putting something ELSE into his mind.

Oh. That'll do. The Dark Messiah Jedah shows himself. The creature bows, the Demon Lord bowing.. to him? He would have to kneel though. "What a d-decision to make, isn't it?" Faust stutters, clearly off put by the whole scenario. "An infinite plethora... an u-unending amount of subj.." Snapshots of bloody hallways, 'surgeries' performed on helpless victims that were all successful! Not a single one survived. That was what was successful about it. All the operations that left him feeling far, far better and the other feeling nothing at all. Ever. Again.

With one quick movement, the bag on Faust's head is ripped off, revealing - nothing. A massive surge of light erupts from all around the man's head, leaving only a black silhouette of a human face staring upon Jedah - frankly, it's about as helpful as the bag. "Does this look like the face of someone who'd ever stoop to something so low!" The bag is put back on moments later in a flash, "But I'm not completely unreasonable! Why, lets meet halfway... I'LL ENJOY DISECTING YOU! WAHAHAHAH!"

The massive scalpel is hefted upwards, Faust twisting around and throwing himself and the scalpel up and back in a heavy swing, the Doctor's trajectory to crash into the ground. He may have leapt 10 feet away, but this is at LEAST 12!

[NOBORU]
There are more famous shinobi than the Iron Mystic of the Miyama. Ninjas with vast power, and magical swords that have defended the earth time and time again. But there are very few mortals alive able to match the big shinobi's work ethic, or sense of duty. Perhaps less impressive qualities to have than the sacred art of one thousand thousand scorpions, but when dogged will power is all you have, it is what you use.
Again and again Noboru's fists are intercepted by Lord Dohma's wicked-looking scythe, but still the ninja presses forward, knuckles striking wood with mounting force until finally the monster retreats.
Left facing the steadily transforming demon across a wide expanse of empty sand, Noboru relaxes out of his aggressive posture. Folding his arms so that each hand grasps either forearm in a pose of monkish meditation, the brutish ninja draws in a single, slow breath, waiting. Whatever he is expecting, it isn't for the men behind him to be dragged screaming to their death. But he has no time to worry about that. No time at all.
Faust's mask is removed, the beach is lit by blinding radiance...
And Noboru is gone.
Where once the muscular shinobi stood, there is now only damp sand, terrain tossed and torn by the chaotic footwork of their fight. But nowhere can the stoic guardian be seen or sensed, invisible to all senses, mundane or otherwise.
That is, until Faust decides to take a flying leap toward the bloody ruler of another world.
Ghosting in at Jedah from his left, something, the sense of Noboru pours back into his surroundings. What had seemed to be a natural shift of the terrain, an odd twist of color, no more eye catching than any other, resolves itself into the shape of a man, soul re-asserting itself as something distinct and alive. Where once there was nothing there is now something, and looking back, it would be difficult to say why it was not always so obvious.
Robe snapping out behind him, Noboru uncoils from his stealthy crouch into a rising right-handed palm strike, throwing his entire body behind an opening blow aimed to impact the shaft of his enemy's scythe and knock it up and out of the way, before twisting in beneath with a short, sharp elbow to the center of the Lord's ribs. As ever, he is focused. Silent.

COMBATSYS: Noboru successfully hits Jedah with Aggressive Strike.

                               JEDAH                                
  [              |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------=|===============                


[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////////     ]
Noboru           0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0            Faust

COMBATSYS: Jedah counters Deep Strike from Faust with Spregio ES.

                               JEDAH                                
  [               ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------=======|===============                


[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Noboru           0/-------/--=====|=======\======-\1            Faust

[JEDAH]
To the ruler of an alternate dimension, crafted from the twisted remains of his greatest protege, Faust's height is... not as impressive as it would be to a mortal. And in all actuality, Lord Dohma is realizing that his attackers are proving to be greater threats than he had previously anticipated.

Damned if he's going to let that slip though. Condescending to the last, he simply leans upon the haft of his blood-forged scythe, as Faust deliberates to himself, nodding slowly. His blond hair gives way to a foul and unnatural growth -- oh wait. That's probably some sort of ceremonial headgear, doubling down on the point that, yes, this is a freaking demon and not just some well-decorated official in the Italian Navy. His face grows a bit longer as well, with features much more chisel-sharp than any human could hope to attain without plastic surgery. "As many as you like -- from whenever, wherever you like. I sense in you a... kindred spirit, Doctor -- a thirst for knowledge that deserves to be free of the limitations of mortality."

While the lion's share of his attention is directed towards the bag-headed Doctor, a portion of his awareness is nonetheless portioned out for keeping track of the warforged shinobi. Eyes can be deceptive, but the invisible flows of chi have proven to be a sixth sense for the Dark Messiah -- one that he tucks away in the depths of his consciousness for later use.

One thing he does -not- like, though, is when the Doctor reveals his blinding beacon of light to bear. A distasteful frown wrenches his lips away, as Jedah turns his head away from the shining radiance. Unlike the vampires of lore, he is hardly -vulnerable- to intense light such as that, but he likes it no more than any rational human being likes to stare into a 5000-watt spotlight, curling a forearm before his face to provide some shelter from the light.
Does it look like the face of someone like that?
Lord Dohma will reserve answering for the moment, as he's got other concerns. Like Faust, hurtling through the air at him. Or that curious ripple of chi forming to his immediate side...

It would be a simple task to avoid, if -both- attackers weren't flying from such contrasting directions, and if he hadn't already raised his arm to shield the light. His weight's on the wrong foot for anything but a leapt evasion -- and the reappearing shinobi is perfectly poised to take advantage. Jedah does manage to lift off the ground by about a foot or so before Noboru's right-handed palm strike slams into the scythe. Were it a traditional weapon, it might have snapped in two from the sheer strength; as it is, the bloodforged iron bends like a supple sapling in an elastic reaction that sends it into a vertical spin -- one which would be quite injurious to anything caught within the scythe's deadly orbit. Alarm floods the Messiah's face at the sudden strike -- for, if anything, he had expected his body to be tagged first.

In the next instant, Noboru capitalizes on the alarm with a critical elbow strike, slamming right into his demonic flesh and bending the elastic bones underneath. Jedah Dohma winces in pain, staggering back to the ground as his right arm snaps up, wildly flailing to retrieve the spinning scythe.

It's then, of course, that Faust actually -lands- his overcommitted strike -- a wild slash of his scalpel that threatens to slice the Demon Lord's head right off.

In a seeming miracle of timing, the gambit actually works. The headdress -- its threads still glistening with congealing blood -- goes flying off. And Jedah's blue-tinted head with it, the eyes frozen in a rictus mask of horror as the rubbery, plastic bones of his neck make a sickeningly fragile "crack."

An instant later, Faust will realize that the price of his apparently miraculous luck is not -just- having to deal with a macabre head spinning around right in front of him, but that he will -also- need to account for the insidious nature of the monstrosity's peculiar blood type. Not A, not AB, not B or O -- but the type informally called Type J by his former physician, the same foul substance that enables the Bladereavers on the coastline to reform themselves anew. The fluid, by itself, is inert, but when manipulated by pure and unmitigated malice, the vitae is scalding hot, ready to forge itself into any form imaginable. Faust will be less likely to appreciate the constructive potential of the pressurized arterial flow as it pounds against him, staining his white frock with dark crimson fluid at an ideal searing temperature.

The headless body of Jedah Dohma lists hard to the side as the hand makes contact with the scythe, ducking low to avoid the Type-J-soaked Faust as he flies overhead. In another heartbeat, the headless Messiah plants his feet, the arterial flow solidifying into a crude approximation of a human head with nodules sprouting outward from the neck.

As the bloodflow slows, the features of Jedah Dohma once more begin to take shape as he aims a scowl back in Noboru's direction. The scythe is brought to a level threat, the glistening point curved towards the shinobi. "The will of Jedah Dohma is immortal! Witness the frailties of your flesh as it betrays you!!"

[FAUST]
"WAHAhAA-"

Not always in his right mind, Faust has been called a lot of things. However, the strike from the scalpel isn't as wide as it seems! The headdress is sent flying off, and Jedah's head with it! It .. all seems too easy, doesn't it? That's what Faust would say. If he wasn't coated, head to toe, in BURNING BLOOD. "My, that operation was a comple suce-What kind of blood is this!? How absolutely terrifying!" The Doctor declares, excited and frightened at the same time. Exfrightening? He decides upon such a name because the white coat is not only burning through, but it's scalding temperature coming out at him in a jet pace.

Good thing the bag doesn't have an opening for a mouth, isn't it!?

The pounding blood isn't just burning though, the geyser like amount causes Dr. Faust, 'flying overhead', to come to a very painful stand-still as it causes him to, in a heap, go rolling head over shoulders a few times until he meets a sudden change of landscape in a crater that was helpfully blown up earlier! A good fortune if there ever was any! "WAHAHAH! For this to course through you!?" Pain. Pain wracks his mind and body. For how simple the blow may have been - for how careless the man was able to do it, Jedah's assault causes quite the searing pain through the good Dr! "I'm not just hot under the collar, this is rediculous!" The man exclaims, fidgeting into his pocket. "No... that's terrible! ..." He pulls free another pocket - and there's a melting Faustling. "What in the WORLD!" Another rummaging in his pocket and.. "AHA!"

Tossed into the air, a donut.

And Faust's head is twisting, literately, and stretching, quite literately, to make contact with it in the air.

[NOBORU]
Having committed himself fully to his attempt to shatter Lord Dohma's guard, it is only by the narrowest of margins that Noboru is able to throw himself clear of the sudden shower of blood that comes spraying out of Jedah's decapitated stump, thudding shoulder-first to the sand as he leaps away from poisonous taint and spinning scythe alike. If he were a more typical ninja, he likely would have tumbled gracefully to his feet, or turned a couple of flips and landed in a three point stance. But, alas, he is not.
When the Iron Mystic does rise, he does not so much leap to his feet as shoulder reality out of his way, exploding upright in a muscular surge that sends a wave of displaced air rolling out in all directions. The area around him now clear of smoke, bulky form backlit by the ambient energy still glowing from a particular circle of sand, he focuses the full wait of his frosty regard upon Jedah, staring passed the scythe now leveled at his chest.
"All will lasts eternal. Only the wicked and cowardly grovel at the altar of immortality."
The words, rumbled with calm certainty, have something inevitable behind them. A glimpse into the inner workings of this man. A look at his soul. Slow. Methodical. Grinding ever forward with a grim sort of inexorability. Though he stands before the next best thing to a god, he faces it without flinching. Because if he does not, then who will?
In the background, Faust eats a donut.
And suddenly, the ninja is in motion.
Where once there was stillness, there is violence. Transitioning from absolute stillness to a dead sprint, the muscular warrior closes on Lord Dohma in a rush of flapping robes and blown back hair, attempting to seize the mighty demon's scythe in both hands and force it back, to slam the shaft length-wise across Jedah's chest and bring his forehead hurtling forward toward that bloody construct so recently created...

COMBATSYS: Jedah dodges Noboru's Avalanche.

                               JEDAH                                
  [               ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------=======|===============                


[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Noboru           0/-------/------=|=======\======-\1            Faust

[JEDAH]
When coated in scalding hot blood, a donut becomes one doctor's only salvation. The malevolent Lord of Darkness takes note of this key point out of the corner of his eye, even while taking a step away from Noboru.
Not because he's scared, but because he is quite a bit off-balance for the moment, focusing intently on ensuring that his eyes and mouth do not form in the improper locations. Slowly and gradually, Jedah Dohma's condescending countenance begins to take form once again. This time, his face contorts into a sardonic, taunting sneer.

"A query, if you will -- are you two... working together, or did the random idea to make a midnight beach visit just happen to occur?"
Midnight visits... with stale donuts?

A moment later, there is the notable sound of a thump against the ground -- a thump which turns into a sickly splatter, as Jedah's former head loses its coherence, melting into an amorphous puddle of half-congealed goo. As Noboru speaks about the nature of will and the folly of immortality, the puddle erupts upwards once again, the gelatinous mass turning into a veritable comet of writhing liquid that screams towards Jedah's current position.

But it will not prevent Noboru's attack from launching forward. It will not deny the kinetic force that plunges Noboru forward in a blisteringly fast charge.

But the bloody sprite will echo the movement, racing alongside Noboru as he surges ahead.

Jedah raises his palm, in almost casual indifference.
And the comet-shaped mass slams into his outstretched palm, carrying him backwards.
The scythe is kept a mere hand's breadth away from Noboru's grasp. One blond eyebrow raises in cruel judgment of the move.

"Delightful -- we seem to be in perfect accord," floats the silky-smooth voice of the Dark Messiah, so decidedly close to the Iron Mystic and his intent to plow forward with his forehead. As his robes whip behind him, so too do the silken blond forelocks of Jedah's hair, misted droplets of his Type-J blood heating up the air in between the two.
A slight shift of posture, a quick twist of the staff wrenches it out of the shinobi's proximity. And the haft of the staff slams into the beach sand, forming an anchor around which the Makai-born noble swings.

"Infinite will seeks an adequate vessel..." coos Jedah, as he pivots about, twisting his horizontal spin into a vertical one. The scythe leaves the ground -- and the Bloodweaver, his scythe, and the blood sprite gestalt into a whirling mass of pain and agony -- a buzzsaw that seeks to cleave a line into the backside of the Miyama ninja. "If only yours were... more capable...!"

He has not forgotten about the doctor -- not yet. But he will, for the time, allow him to enjoy his delectable, sugary treat.

COMBATSYS: Faust successfully aids himself with Chocolate Donut.

                               JEDAH                                
  [              |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|---------======|===============                


[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////           ]
Noboru           0/-------/------=|=======\======-\1            Faust

[FAUST]
Noboru focuses, rather heavily, upon the assault towards Jedah - and the good Doctor certainly notices it. Especially as he manages to get that donut under the bag - turning his head upside down to ctach it in the bag, of course. It wouldn't have been devoured in any other way, he assures you.

It's important that you get your nutrition, Noboru! Sugar, while not good, is perfectly helpful to get you that EXTA OOMPH you need! Right now, Faust needs all the oomph he can get!

"Ah! Scrumptious! That really hit the spot!" He declares as he listens in on the discussions ongoing. "Oh! I was told there was an urgent operation by my lovely nurse. She's never wrong you know! Wahaha! Where are my manners though? We're still in the middle of an operation. I can't just stop halfway, my pride as an ace doctor is ON THE LINE!" There is a pose. How he holds the scalpel in his mouth with a bag is unknown. He does, however.

Why does he do so? Since he's currently crawling along the ground like a four legged animal, spindly legs spider-like and arms grasping the ground as he makes his way closer, 'racing' through the sand and sediment. "How mysterious!" The good doctor declares, "Infinite will seeks an adequate vessel, but how much space is required to house such infite will? Oh, it could possibly never be housed! Not unless it was compressed. But the rate of compression would have to equal the rate of the increase of will! What could possibly exist that could maintain such a balance! WAHAHAH!"

Coming to a stop behind Jedah, the good Doctor leaps skywards, like some kind of tick or flea, grasping his head. "I've seen this before.. and I know what'll cure it! I've come to a conclusion.."

His head is grasped, "My prescription is ... TAKE MY LOVE!~" In such a close proximity to Jedah, it cannot be helped. The head is torn off of Faust just like Jedah did to himself, before being thrown at the bloody creation! .. Why is .. why is there a fuse attached to it!? The answer is obvious. To explode, obviously. Which it does.

Faust is in the area as well. He, too, explodes. But would Jedah!?

Faust oh

Faust ohohoho!

COMBATSYS: Noboru blocks Jedah's Ira - Piano.

                               JEDAH                                
  [              |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------=======|===============                


[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Noboru           0/-------/------=|=======\======-\1            Faust

[NOBORU]
If it weren't obvious before, the difference in relative powers is painfully stark in the ease with which Jedah baits Noboru's charge. Staying just that tiny fraction ahead, so close yet utterly out of reach. it's a calculated insult. A way to grind home just how hopeless the shinobi's situation really is.
Somehow, it doesn't seem to matter.
Skidding to a halt as Lord Dohma plants his staff, Noboru relaxes out of his charge and stands straight. He may be the shortest of the three combatants, but his build is by far the sturdiest. To look at him, one would not think ninja.
It is that great strength that saves him.
Never having been the fastest of ninja, Noboru has learned to rely on timing and a good amount of prediction to execute his defenses. So it is that even as the blood lord begins to vault over him, twisting into the first of many deadly spins, the Iron Mystic is thrusting his right palm up and back, seeking....something.
The maneuver is not perfect. He misjudges the angle by a fraction, and it almost costs him his fingers. But, as Jedah brings his scythe slicing down for Noboru's exposed back, he instead finds iron-like fingers closing around the blade of his weapon. Blood wells, squeezed out from between his grasping fingers as the razor edge bites deep into Noboru's palm, but his grip holds. If his bones were any less dense, the scythe would simply carve right through them. If his feet were braced even a fraction off balance, he would be swept off of them and flung to the sand. If his muscles were any less honed, the lord would simply overpower him. But for the moment, he holds the weapon at bay, locked in a contest of wills.
There are no words.
Staring off straight ahead, mismatched gaze hard and unyielding, Noboru gives a sudden vicious tug on the blade. Throwing his shoulders back at the same moment, he attempts to bodily check Lord Dohma toward his scuttling partner, finally releasing the blood-smeared weapon and leaping spectacularly away, sailing over the heads of two mostly healed monsters as he does his best to clear the blast radius.

COMBATSYS: Jedah blocks Faust's Excessive Love.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                 ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|-------========|===============                


[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Noboru           0/-------/-------|=======\=======\1            Faust

COMBATSYS: Jedah endures Noboru's Iron Sentinel!

                               JEDAH                                
  [                       ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|----===========|===============                


[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Noboru           0/-------/------=|=======\=======\1            Faust

[JEDAH]
Those who have fought Jedah Dohma before fall into one of two categories.
The survivors speak of his prodigious ability to manipulate his accursed, iron-rich blood, reforging it into a multitude of weapons completely at will. Most often, the blood is forged into either a scythe, as a pair of wings, or as some foul hybrid of the two -- much like his current buzzsaw form.
Naturally, the ones who didn't survive don't have much to say.

When bloodforged into this particular format, the serrations on the Blood Weaver's blade may not be as lethal scythe form, but the fact remains that the speed of rotation is high enough to make ribbons out of practitioners of less hardy disciplines. That Noboru escapes with not only intact limbs, but the whirling blade itself, is living testament to the shinobi's iron fortitude.

Prying himself away from the spinning blades, Lord Dohma leaps aside, righting himself from the somersaulting spin. "Impressive," he intones with raised eyebrow, as his lips curl into a sneer. "But ultimately futile." With a fanning motion from his outstretched fingers, the blade is decomposed into liquid form, spraying outward in a macabre arc across the ground -- and across Noboru, where applicable. Jedah's foot stops just short of hitting the ground, as he whirls about to flash a wry smirk back at the cockroach-crawling Doctor.

"The answer is simple -- no earthly vessel is adequate. I will be more than happy to demonstrate...!"

Hovering just a foot above the ground, Jedah whirls his left side towards the explosive-laden bag constituting Faust's contribution to the battle. Blood streams from the crimson stripes on his shoulders -- symmetrical and seemingly decorative features of his garment that resembles two deep scars -- and billows out into a sickle-shaped wings. It appears that the loss of his 'scythe' had very little to do with the hemomancer's battle readiness, as crimson goo solidifies into iron wings in a mere instant. The wings grow large and thin, like the carapace of a beetle, shielding the Dark Messiah from the vast majority of the explosion.

A moment later, he shakes his head. Bits of explosive shrapnel fall out of his accursed wings as they reconfigure to a slimmer, more race-ready state. "Your 'love' is appreciated," he comments, eyes narrowing as he returns his gaze to Noboru. "Your fealty, moreso."

But Noboru has not remained idle. He charges forward, slamming his elbow into Jedah. As opposed to prior attacks, Noboru's iron body does not clash against iron, or carapace -- rather, it hits soft matter, gelatinous and gooey. Even though the impact has an obvious and undeniable effect -- that is, Jedah's long-limbed form is certainly slammed backwards a good three feet in the process -- there is something decidedly -different- about it.

Jedah's frame is wracked, all the same.
But he is smiling.

"You will both make -excellent- thralls for my legions...!"

Right about then, a battle-horn sounds.
For all of the Bladereavers -- save for the one which sustained a Miyama-induced critical injury -- have risen.
And one of the beetle-like warriors has raised a nautilus to its mouth.
The warriors take two tentative steps forward. And then begin to take flight, their wings buzzing like the warsong of locusts.

"All you have to do is sign, on the dotted line.
And from behind Noboru, a bloody hand --- easily six feet across -- surges out of the ground, and seeks to grasp hold of the ninja from behind.

Faust would have a better vantage point of what transpired. He might have seen the blood from earlier as it hit the ground. He might have seen it roil and churn -- may have heard it roar into motion. And he might even have seen the red-tinged parchment as it unfurled like a battle flag, an elegant Italian contract inscribed upon the parchment in dense black ink.

Noboru Miyama.
A contract for servitude.
And the hand will seek to grab hold of him, wrench him backwards, and bludgeon his body repeatedly into the dotted line until he ceases resistance altogether.

And with two mighty wingbeats, Jedah leaps into the air -- prepared to join his army in their assault on the Hokota City -- and beyond.

[FAUST]
The singed Faust detonates in the sky - smoldering as he falls backwards, away from Jedah. Meanwhile, Noboru is busily doing his best to fight Jedah any way he can. Really, this is /all/ quite charming and all - but the bloodlust that Faust has been fighting doesn't just go away. Sometimes you have to treat yourself right. Sometimes, it's all about treating yourself /wrong/.

"None at all? It's true humans aren't able to keep up with such growth...!" But the answer is demonstrated, Jedah whirling about, iron-wings forming as the bag detonates - with the majority of the explosion tossing Faust backwards, bouncing and burning backwards. "Wahahah! Such a cold response... why, my self-worth is imploding!" He declares.

"Oh, no, you didn't demonstrate NEARLY enough to satisfy my curiosity! I couldn't ever bow to someone like you. ESPECIALLY when you're the one I want to cut... Wahaha! But I can't stop there... hmm?" A hand under his chin rubs it carefully once more, bag in the way. "I see... I SEE! Yes, yes that's /very/ interesting..." Such a sight! The controlled hand, slamming Noboru, possibly, against the contract. To sign up on the dotted line, that's all that would be necessary? But how would one, bludgeoned to ... oh. Thrall.

He understand far more, now!

"I have a proposition for you instead! Something that we'll both enjoy, I'm certain. It's a gift, but I'm not willing to sign away my soul, or anything like that! WAHAHAH! No, this'll be EXACTLY what the doctor ordered!" The scalpel disappears as Faust begins to reach into his coat. "Mmm.. so THERE it is good, good." It's a single red button. He holds it up.

Press.

Nothing happens - except the top of Faust's baghead - POPs - off, and a flower grows, upwards it goes, growing... and then.. blossoms! Into a beautiful... bomb?

BANZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAI!!!"

The explosion of both chi and physical explosion comes in such a crack of a second that it actually imitates that of a nuclear explosion, mushroom cloud and all. Shockwave hitting the area around, blowing bladereaver and sand backwards and away from ground Zero - Faust.

Afterwards he stands, scorched, coughing...

With a /bitching/ dark black Afro. "S-Success...!"

COMBATSYS: Faust successfully hits himself with This Week's CLIMAX!.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                      |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|-----==========                


[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////                      ]
Noboru           0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1            Faust

COMBATSYS: Jedah successfully hits Noboru with Prova - di - Servio.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                      |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|-----==========                


[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////                      ]
Noboru           0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1            Faust

[NOBORU]
It's a curious thing. When fighters of a certain caliber clash, it becomes difficult for one to catch one's balance. The noise, the chaos. The unimaginable impacts. It's like being caught in a car crash that never quite ends.
Half way through his leap, Noboru is snatched roughly out of the air by an enormous otherworldly hand. Letting out a single, rough grunt, the Iron Mystic is slung about, smashed once, twice, three times into the ridiculous contract before he can do much to stop it. The fourth pound sees his knee coming up to brace against the ground, muscles bulging as he presses out against the clutching fingers with all of his might. Perhaps surprisingly to those who do not know him, the hand is forced open.
Dropping free of the unholy grip, Noboru rolls heavily back to his feet, significantly more battered than a couple moments ago but by no means finished. A single, frank glance is cast toward Jedah as he departs. Toward the army at his side. Then across toward Faust.

...
When the explosion clears, Noboru is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he is ghosting after the army. Perhaps he has elsewhere to be. Whatever the answer, only the absent shinobi can say.

COMBATSYS: Noboru takes no action.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                      |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|-----==========                


[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////                      ]
Noboru           0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1            Faust

COMBATSYS: Faust successfully hits Jedah with This Week's CLIMAX!.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                  |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|===============                


[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////                      ]
Noboru           0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1            Faust

[JEDAH]
With those mighty wingbeats, Lord Jedah Dohma is free of the land. His mighty armada of Bladereavers is airborne as well -- all but the one. And while he would have preferred that the naval vessel not be scuttled, it was an unavoidable loss induced by a surprisingly prepared ninja -- who has certainly taken his lumps in the process. Jedah looks down upon the Iron Mystic -- pleased to finally see that the shinobi has declined to pursue him into the sky.

"Perhaps you can be saved, after all," he comments with a wry smile, as his wings reconfigure into a more svelte wingspan: the better to fly swiftly with.

But for all his focus on the disciplined ninja, perhaps it would have been wise to pay more attention to the rapid-fire speech of the skittering Doctor. It might have provided a bit more warning as to what the mad doctor was planning. Jedah turns his eyes to the screaming doctor -- his voice so dim, so far below -- as he senses the approach of something most foul sprouting through the air.

An instant later, it becomes a most beautiful blossom indeed -- an incendiary blast which would certainly arouse much more interest than the preceding conflict had, buzzing and explosions and all.

It's enough to light up the sky -- burning a citrus orange wake through the clouds.
It's enough to leave behind blast shadows around the trunks in the treeline below.
And more importantly, it's enough to buffet Jedah backwards, skewing him off-course and forcing his blue skin and the purple garment to peel back, glistening with the red sheen of fresh wounds wherever the accursed explosive energy had seared him.

Dohma grits his teeth -- and his hand lashes out as if to sling another roiling wave of energy down at the heretic who dared to interfere.
But, after a moment, he lets a scowl suffice as his final farewell -- for his energy must be conserved for the battle ahead.
His hand sweeps forward. And with a mighty bellow, he points east.

All of the Bladereavers switch into a new configuration at the bellowed command -- forward swept wings, with blood roiling outwards from their reverse-swept hands -- Afterburners, of a sense.

With a clamor of thunder, the Bladereaver Armada tears off to the west.

-- PACIFIC OCEAN -- USS GIUSEPPE GARIBALDI, JAPAN SEA --

The night watch commander rubs his eyes sleepily as he glances over the screen, stabbing at a few indicated squares. He sees a rather urgent alarm in red, but sweeps it to the side -- just as he has for every one of the last five minutes.

Behind him, he hears a few drops of sticky fluid hit the bridge deck.
An instant later, an Ensign falls out of the ceiling.
Three seconds after that, a corporal -- and three seconds after that, his lance corporal buddy.

The night watch commander looks back over his shoulder, seeing the three men covered in some sort of sticky fluid which he can only determine to be machine grease.
"Got some nerve showing up on the bridge dressed like that," he barks out in rough Italian. "The hell happened to -you- guys?"

COMBATSYS: Noboru has left the fight here.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                  |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|===============                


[                      \\\\\\\\  <
Faust            1/-------/=======|

COMBATSYS: Faust has left the fight here.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                  |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|===============                



-- HYAKURI AIR BASE, IBARAKI AIRPORT --

They barely even registered as blips on the radar screen. Birds, bats, high winds... who knows? It's well past midnight, and even if this is the middle of a warzone, the base commander sure was salty the last time he got woken up at 2am for a flock of birds.

With a thunderous boom echoing across the hillsides, the night watchman is given one more piece of data to consider. As he sounds the air raid sirens, the sheared section of Hangar Four's roof falls to the floor with a clamor, leaving a hole the size of a flatbed truck yawning to the night skies above. Moments later, a dozen more booms sound in rapid succession -- and an F-4 Phantom on the tarmac is engulfed in a fireball of flame.

When the sounds cease, the airbase is as a tapestry woven from black soot and smoke. Every one of the hangars has suffered catastrophic damage of some kind.

Glowing red eyes pierce through the clouds of smoke.
The devastation is not yet over.
Across the air base, long, insectoid silhouettes rise from the twisted metallic remnants of the hangars. Their arms gleam in the dim moonlight -- silver and iron, sharpened to precise and deadly points. Their heads cant to and fro, multicellular eyes taking in the sights and sounds, assessing what further damage can be wrought.

Time passes -- ten seconds, then twenty.
A second F-4 Phantom alights with red and orange, as a Bladereaver bursts through the opposite side.
A third Phantom suffers a similar fate.
A fourth.
Aging technology, purchased at a discount for the defense of a country prohibited from waging war of its own.

High, overhead, a silent Reaper watches. A hand cradles his chin, stroking it idly as his wings sweep wide -- more of a stretch, and certainly unnecessary for the Dark Messiah to remain aloft.

"And to think, this nation was judged to be the -most- apt at defeating our number..." coos Lord Jedah Dohma to no one in particular, as he languidly floats down to the tarmac. Pride fills his chest as he admires the handiwork of his magnificent creations.
It's almost enough to mend the wounds to his pride delivered by the two perfect strangers -- lackeys no doubt sent by one of this realm's mighty Defenders.
Almost -- but for the slight tremor in his frame as his pointed boot touches the tarmac, the lips peeling back as he bares his teeth for one brief instant.

His fist clenches.
And the tremors subside, shooed away by indomitable will, and the symphonic chorus of exploding fighter aircraft.

COMBATSYS: Jedah awaits the next challenger.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                     ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------=|===============                



[ZACH GLENN]
Zach Glenn had barely had time to stow his gear after his adventure at Mount Fuji when the cordons started going up around Southtown. He had managed to escape the lines at the last moment through what could only be explained a sublime intersection of luck and instinct that had led him northeast.

One look at the skies above Omitama gave explanation for the sudden wave of instinct. Smoke, darkness, and blood red glow of monsterous eyes told the monster hunter everything he needed to know.

Zach had barely had time to recover from the physical injuries sustained during his confrontation with Ayame, and then Saiki. He had not had time to assess what exactly had happened to him when Glen had sacrificed his existence to save the miko and the hunter, but action was clearly needed here.

Pulling into the parking lot, Zach carefully climbed out of his car. He checked the knives and after inspecting the Mugentou, left the wakazashi in its sheath and in the car. The blade had expended every last shred of power it had possessed, and the stress that had brought on cracked and nicked the blade in several places. It would never again be what it was, and it might not even be able to be repaired. The guns were left in the car as well as some newly awakened instinct told him they would be worse than useless in this fight.

He looked skyward, shielding his gaze from the heat and light of the exploding fighter craft. He could make out a singular shape up there, sense the knot of power around the being floating there. Looks like a fight, then. Zach dropped both arms by his sides.

The psion reached for his birthrights, causing a number of things to happen. The first was a surreal updraft of ether, ruffling and sweeping his pale white hair upward even as golden light slid into it. The second was the emergence of the ancestral blade Drynwyn, sliding into his waiting right hand like nothing more than a shaft of pure sunlight.

The third effect was the one he did not expect: a gauntlet, comprised of condensed psychic energy slid over his left arm up to the elbow. The thing was clawed slightly at the fingertips and looked like it could have been crafted from metal, except for the odd bit or segment flaking away and fading into the night occasionally only to be replaced by more energy. This got a look from Zach, but now was not the time for introspection.

The hunter's eyes locked on to where Jedah was. He had no way to fly, but he doubted the whoever was up there would pass up a chance to remove a potential thorn in his side.

COMBATSYS: Zach Glenn has joined the fight here.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                     ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------=|===============                


[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Zach Glenn       0/-------/-------|

[FREI]
"Don't do it."

This short sentence had come from the mouth of Aya Hazuki as she lounged on a comfortable chair on the top floor of the SYFI building. It was the one luxury that had nothing to do with the center's purpose, the administrator's penthouse: a lushly appointed but modestly small apartment. When she had stepped away from public life and left the running of the place to her "cousin" Rei, she had insisted he take it as his own. Effectively homeless, Frei -- 'Rei Hazuki,' now -- had little choice but to accept. But when Aya found herself in Southtown, paying a visit during her trip became a ritual over the months since the end of Mortal Kombat, and with what feels like the fate of humanity itself in the balance, one such visit was deemed necessary.

They had shared tea, and looked out over the still skyline of Southtown, even as mechanized death seemed to loom just beyond the city limits. The Initiative building was crowded; it had been opened to the public as a shelter for the displaced, the wounded, or -- perhaps most frequently -- the simply scared out of their wits, who needed somewhere to be around other people, to be reassured by the presence of humanity.

"You know... hell, *I* know... there's plenty of people out there near Fuji, right now," Aya said, watching Frei's face, holding her teacup with both hands. "The... the Almas of the world," she added, remembering with a smile her run-in with the psychic, what seemed like an eternity ago, a meeting now viewed in a different context indeed thanks to her now shared memories with her counterpart. "You don't have to go. Didn't you say your plan was to live a *different* life here?"

Across from her, the red-haired young man gave the mild, embarrassed smile of someone who has had their thought process perfectly and succinctly articulated by another person and can do no more than admit it. "That's probably true," Rei admitted, the corners of his mouth turning ever so slightly down, eyelids seemingly heavy. "I definitely think that I don't HAVE to get involved. I'm not obligated, as it were. I can choose not to."

Smirking faintly, Aya looked at him over the rim of her teacup and said, simply: "But...?"

Nodding in acknowledgment, giving a tiny smile, Rei turned and looked out the window. "I would say 'you don't know what it felt like' but the truth is, you do, don't you? You remember everything I do. So you do know. Which is why you're doing the right thing and telling me that while I don't have to do what I'm about to do, you know that I'm going to do it anyway."

A sip of tea. An inclination of the head. "That's right," Aya replied. "Because maybe you need the reminder. For the time when you decide you don't, so you don't beat yourself up over it."

When he had left, she had stood in the lobby to watch him go, along with many others. Looking back one last time to give a reassuring wave, Rei noticed, with perhaps a slight lump in his throat, that for the first time in months, Aya wore her sword at her waist.

-----

In the depth of night, with nothing but the distant fires of other battles to light the way, the distant silver crescent of the moon is perhaps welcome to the non-demonic forces in this embattled place. But at this point in the lunar cycle, slowly waxing to its eventual fullness, the light it provides isn't significant. Clouds -- or maybe the smoke of some distant fire -- briefly move past the moon, taking the already deep shadows and shrouding them further, making what were merely gloomy patches suddenly ink-black pools of darkness.

In a moment, however, the clouds continue their race across the sky, and the faint but visible argent glow of the moon spreads across the ruined cityscape once more. It shines particularly sharply, however, on the bright red hair of Rei Hazuki, the color too vibrant to be ignored now that it's visible. Standing with back straight, eyes locked skyward, it's as if the moonlight himself ushered him into being from some distant place, gone one moment, there the next.

It's not clear if he notices or senses Zach at all; the green eyes look into the sky at the floating Lord of Dohma, jaw set, the youthfully freckled features uncharacteristically hard in the cold light.

For someone who knows him, like Zach, it should be abdunantly clear that Something Is Not Right with the fledging sennin. Not right at *all*.

[JEDAH]
What was once a quiet air base in a coastal Japanese community has been transformed to a blazing conflagration in a matter of moments. The military police squad stationed at the passenger terminals is beginning to panic, with one man radioing for backup, and the others staring at the unfolding sight through binoculars and cameras. They had briefly considered acting, but their anti-personnel patrol vehicles would have no measurable effect on the monstrosities punching holes through their precious F4s!!

All according to Colonel Umberto Domenico's plan of attack. Hyakuri is an out-of-the-way air base, with laughably dated fighters and an aging air squad that would serve as the third or fourth wave of reinforcements sent to defend Southtown from UN assault. He expected no resistance. And, insofar as a military response, there is none -- and the salt-the-earth mission is already nearing completion.

But now... there is a response.
And a weary smirk appears upon the Dark Messiah's face as he turns to the white-haired swordsman wreathed in golden light. The face is... recognized, remotely, from his earlier studies of the tournament circuit. But the weaponry...

The bloodlord casually reaches up, stroking a finger along the curve of his left wing. The wing begins to weep blood -- and from the wing itself, he pulls forth a scythe as effortlessly as someone might slide a letter from an envelope. Easily two meters in length, with a meter-long blade, the fearsomely curved weapon is hardly one to go unnoticed -- even in the company of Zach Glenn's elegantly crafted blade.

The shifting of clouds high above, though, stays his hand. A wrinkle of the nose, and a slow sweep of the eyes, signals his shift in focus towards the falling shaft of moonlight. While it is certainly true that wind can pluck at the delicate strings of the leylines coursing throughout the earth, their new song bears a distinctive signature worth further scrutiny. Once he notices the red hair, though, is what draws his eyes, and what causes his blond eyebrows to lower in frustration. Already, his path had been interrupted by two -- and here are two more.

"Beautiful night, is it not...?"
His elegant voice carries effortlessly across the distance -- perfectly clear and free of echoes. As if the voice emanates from the air directly before each of them, rather than requiring the driving force of mega-speakers to blare it across the night air.

"I do hope to keep the casualty count to a minimum. It would not reflect well upon the United Nations, after all, if there were a horrific bloodbath to atone for. Were you hoping to find some destructive madman, perchance...?"

He glances between the two men, as his army of Bladereavers puncture through another six fuel tanks, sending a fresh round of explosions echoing across the idyllic countryside.

His gaze shuttles between Zach and 'Rei,' his words easily crossing the vast distance. "Well, are you just going to stand there?" He's certainly not going to make an approach himself -- not with his forces so close to a complete annihilation of the fighter jets. But with a mild sigh of boredom, he calmly turns on his heel, whipping the slender scythe around in a wide arc -- and hurling the curling blade towards Zach Glenn. As it approaches closer, the scythe transforms yet again -- sprouting deadly teeth, seething in crimson blood, and wallowing in an aura of fearsome purple energy.

The conclusion of Jedah Dohma's lazy pirouette would find him staring once more into the eyes of Rei Hazuki. "It's a shame, honestly," he offers as a pale excuse for the provoked attack. "Some people never change."

COMBATSYS: Bladereaver Pack has joined the fight here on the top side.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                     ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------=|===============                


                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Zach Glenn       0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Jedah successfully hits Zach Glenn with Dio - Sega ES.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                     ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------=======|===============                


                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Zach Glenn       0/-------/=======|

[ZACH GLENN]
Zach's head whips around sharply to sight in on Frei. While Glen, or Glen's memories specifically, might have provided better insight Zach knew on some instinctive level that something was off. But for some reason, when he reached for the memories... he couldn't find them. It was as if he had lost the book they were written down in and he could not for the life of him remember where he had set it down last. Yet Another Thing to introspect on after the dust settled out. If there WAS a later.

Zach's own knowledge of the young man now resurrected (possibly the same way he had been?) suggested that steely resolve in the face of, well, /anyone/ was not his usual way. Okay. Get 'Rei's' head in the right place, then lay the beating on the horde of Darkstalkers. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Zach takes a light hop toward the young man, his form flickering slightly before reappearing next to Frei to land lightly on his toes. Zach is about to greet Frei when Jedah Dohma confirms his presence before launching the... whatever the hell that thing became at the psion. Zach's eyes go wide as he interposes himself between the sennin and the incoming monstrosity, but he is unable to bring up anything like a defense in the face of the attack.

Fangs and blades rip and tear into the monster hunter, sending blood spraying from way too many cuts and abrasions. Zach screams out in pain. Hazuki may get some of it on him if he's not careful and quick. Still, though, Zach stands. He doesn't look at Rei, keeping his eyes on Jedah while trying to discern the Darkstalker's next move. He takes a deep breath while shifting the flow of his own personal injuries to start closing up some of the worse wounds.

And nothing happens. That gets a startled blink from Zach. He tries again, and then a third time. None of the familiar sensations, none of the somewhat accelerated healing. Okay. Glen's destruction caused something to happen. Maybe related to the energy gauntlet he now wears? Or are both of these merely symptoms of a larger problem.

Another Thing For Later, Zach thinks as he centers his thoughts. He takes another breath, and mentally coaxes the psychic might at his command to start healing himself up a bit. "Rei," Zach says in an eerily level tone of voice, using the man's assumed name instead of the man's True Name, "Be yourself. Just as hard as you can."

COMBATSYS: Zach Glenn focuses on the situation at hand!

                               JEDAH                                
  [                     ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------=======|===============                


                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Zach Glenn       1/------=/=======|

[FREI]
'Some people never change.'

Rei's already grimly-set expression turns, if that's even possible, more sour; lips purse all the tighter, eyes narrow all the more. As Zach appears in the space next to him, however, the red-haired man turns to Zach and his expression softens, just a bit, the tense muscles going a little slack for a second or two. But when his focus is back on Jedah, all traces of that momentary ease vanish. Rei isn't even trying to compose his body language; the erratic curling and uncurling of his fingertips suggests it's all autonomic, not cerebral at all.

Without looking back at the white-haired man standing next to him, Rei speaks. "Sorry, Zach," the sennin says, voice low, "this is personal, now."

Of course, right after this, the Lord of the Dohma clan hurls some monstrous creation at the psion, the conjured blades sawing into Zach mercilessly; a drop of shed blood lands on Rei's freckled cheek, stark against the pale complexion in the silver gloom of the moonlight and carnage providing the only light. For a second, Rei turns to look, to be sure, one eye narrowing slightly shut in recognition that something is clearly Amiss with Zach, but when the former soldier remains on his feet, that appears to be all the reassurance the sennin needs.

"I don't have anything to say to you," he shoots back at Jedah, getting into a loose fighting stance. "What would be the point? There's always someone like you. *Always*. And in two lifetimes, talking with people like you, Soul Eater, has never gotten me anywhere. So I'm going to save my breath for more useful things."

Without any hesitation, the red-haired fighter slams one foot onto the ground with enough force to crack the concrete, then heaves his torso forward while simultaneously raising both hands up. As if in response, jagged chunks of the ground -- rock, concrete -- tear themselves out, floating in a rough ellipse around Rei before he slams one hand forward, then the other, then a kick, then another, a step forward between each gesture. With each strike at the air, one of the rock projectiles streaks out toward the floating Jedah.

COMBATSYS: Frei has joined the fight here on the right meter side.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                     ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------=======|===============                


                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Zach Glenn       1/------=/=======|-------\-------\0             Frei

COMBATSYS: Jedah blocks Frei's Shatterheart.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                       ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|-------========|===============                


                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Zach Glenn       1/------=/=======|-------\-------\0             Frei

[JEDAH]
The objective here is military -- cripple the air base to prevent it from supporting Japan's primary offensive line in Southtown. A purely military offensive would have been more than adequate to nullify the base's capabilities -- a second and third strike would likely neutralize the helicopter and army bases some dozens of kilometers south, as well.
But a purely military offensive would not have borne the element of surprise that can only be delivered by a brilliant military commander -- one who can not only guide his force to victory, but react in real-time to active defenses.
And surprises, such as Zach and Frei.

The Blood Noble arches an eyebrow as his wreath of bloodforged iron bites into Zach's flesh, their respective sprays of blood commingling into a macabre crimson mist. His lips curl back into a broad smile, daggersharp teeth gleaming in the pale moonlight.

He stretches an open palm out towards Zach. While Zach might not be able to see the fabric of chi underlying the gesture, he would be able to see the demonic blood as he extracts it from the mist, globules arraying into sheets of silklike consistency as it flows back into the hemomancer's grasp.

In mere moments, the sheeted blood returns to the configuration of that fearsome scythe. But what captures Jedah's attention is the brief interchange between the two men.
They know each other? And yet -- it does not seem that they traveled together.

"Personal... ?"
Red hair... green eyes. Could it have been that one he spared while ushering his jiangshi army into their second lives?
And yet -- the fiery-haired one has more to say. Amusement curls his lips into a cruel, condescending smirk. His grip on the scythe loosens -- the long blade balanced perfectly upon his slender, aristocratic hand.

Rocks are plucked from the ground, twirled into a loose ellipse -- and then projected in rapid-fire succession at the Blood Weaver.
The scythe twirls rapidly -- a blur of motion. Rocks are pulverized in midair by the spinning blade, clouds of dust punctuating each successive impact. All but one of the rocks are obliterated in similar fashion -- and it is for the last that Jedah pivots backwards, swinging the scythe aside as he raises his empty palm into the rocky projectile's path.

His hand staggers backward with the blow, even as his lengthy fingers close to crumble the stone to pieces. As luck would have it, an errant fragment of rock ricochets loose, carving a crimson gash across the Dark Messiah's cheek -- which serves only to draw a chuckle from the noble.

"Actions do speak louder than words. And your actions are quite notable..."

He -does- remember this one -- somehow.

The scythe sways slightly, as he tilts his shoulders, and his bladed headdress, regarding Frei. "Your human need for sovereignty is meaningless. Your actions here, against me, will be as pebbles hurled at the crashing waves of change. Should you not, instead, be -guiding- the future? Should you not be -easing- the transition for the weak cretins who fail to appreciate the powers at your command?"

A glance is spared over his shoulder, regarding the Bladereavers as they continue their symphony of destruction against the helpless air base. By this point, the human workers are scattering about, attempting to get their fire prevention vehicles mobilized to keep the fallout to a minimum -- but, of course, it would likely be a futile gesture if the Bloodlord is allowed to reign.

He pauses for another chuckle, as his fearsome wings beat, carrying him a foot higher for one moment. There is little to fear -- as there is still a mighty distance between himself and his human adversaries. "But perhaps you're right. What is the point of talking?"

And then he falls, slamming the end of his scythe into the ground before him.
The scythe explodes into a splash of blood.
And Jedah allows himself to continue fall feet-first into the blossoming spray of blood. He's... leaving?!

It would be only a brief moment before the answer to that question is proven as a resounding 'no:' the very ground beneath Frei begins to seep scarlet.
An instant later, the blood-coated butt of the scythe comes rocketing up out of the ground. The bloody portal allows the Dark Messiah to clear the distance of several hundred meters with a simple kick. If the bladed weapon's dull end is allowed, it would club itself right into the underside of the sennin's chin -- but more importantly, it would place the Blood Noble within close and personal striking distance of both of the men. And a quick twist of razor-bladed wings would right his orientation, allowing him to flash a crazed grin.

"By all means -- let us dispense with words!"

[ZACH GLENN]
Zach regards the exchange between Blood Lord and the Sennin, then the blood reavers for a moment. They aren't going after people, yet, and Zach only knows of Dohma through reputation and it is plenty fearsome. And Rei is claimng this is personal. There is a grudge, or past harm, or something that the Sennin objects to.

A lot, judging from the ready property damage Rei is willing to cause to get the job done. It's enough for Zach, even ignoring the fact that Dohma's a Darkstalker AND the mastermind behind the incident in Metro City.

Zach leaps toward Jedah's re-entry point, spinning once. Zach's plan is to get behind the Darkstalker before bringing the ancient claymore around strike with that sunlight blade in the small of Jedah's back!

COMBATSYS: Jedah successfully hits Frei with Power Strike.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                      |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|-----==========|===============                


                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
Zach Glenn       1/-------/=======|====---\-------\0             Frei

[FREI]
So swift a movement makes it quite difficult, perhaps nigh impossible, to mount a proper defense. To his credit, Rei seems to sense the appearance of Jedah through his blood-created portal a split second before the scythe's haft appears, arms swiftly crossing in the beginnings of a defense, but mere perception of what was happening isn't the same as getting it done in time; the bloodforged weapon leaps upward and the impact slams into Rei's chin, snapping his head back and, in fact, sending his whole body sliding backwards, feet leaving grooves in the ground. It keeps him from ending up sprawling on his back, but that's not the same as a successful defense.

When his head lowers and he's stopped moving, the sennin's whole torso slumps slightly forward before he pulls himself standing, hand coming up to wipe blood -- his own, this time -- from his mouth before he gets back into stance, watching Jedah carefully. The mention of 'weak cretins' unable to appreciate his abilities seemed much more likely aimed at Zach and his powers, but Rei can't help but think, however briefly, of that parting moment at the SYFI, of watching Aya standing there surrounded by teenagers and civilians, the 'weak cretins' Jedah is no doubt referring to, who want nothing more than to come out of an impending apocalypse with their lives.

The briefest flicker of the green-eyed gaze in Zach's direction makes it clear he understands the soldier's plan, and in an instant they turn back to Jedah. Despite his protestation that he has nothing to say to the Blood Lord, Rei speaks anyway, voice low and clipped. "People change all the time. The mistake is thinking that just because it's not their base nature, it doesn't count."

with a smoothness and fluidity entirely separate from the harsh, forceful movements he'd been using a moment before, the sennin's hands move in slow spirals; in the path of those movements, white-blue ropes of water coalesce. "But then..." Rei asks, rhetorically, before ducking forward and making a spiralling leap forward toward Jedah, water whip trailing in his wake, looking to effectively snap it around Jedah's neck from the back and use it to pull him right into the ground, *hard*.

Voice rising in intensity in the wake of his strike, the redhead shouts, "What do YOU care?!"

COMBATSYS: Zach Glenn successfully hits Jedah with Heavy Strike.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                              |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|-==============|===============                


                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Zach Glenn       1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0             Frei

COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Jedah with Strong Throw.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                     ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 2|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Zach Glenn       1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0             Frei

[JEDAH]
Jedah Dohma may look like a man, but he is much more than a series of bones collected within a fleshy bag of meat. No -- the form which ripped itself out of the ground, which slammed itself into Frei, is better described as a physical manifestation of the demon lord's sheer force of will -- a veritable avatar of destruction. His awareness is not bound to the simple analog eyes in the center of his head, but instead spread in all directions, diffused through his area of influence.

In short, it is impossible for Zach to simply sneak up on him, to attack him without knowledge -- the act of keeping the blood bound and forged into a body demands much higher awareness of self than a mere human would be capable of.

It would be child's play for the Dark Messiah to contort the body out of Zach's path. But that does not send the correct message -- he must meet Zach's charge, and -punish- it. Even as the sunblessed claymore plunges into his back, the wings -- floating separately from the demon lord's back as they are -- begin to spin in place. They would twist ninety degrees, interposing themselves into the path of the blade.

But there is not only one attacker.
There are two.

"Then disprove me," he insists in reply, as he begins to sway out of the path of Frei's lunge. "Join us as we remake the world."

Zach's intentions had made themselves clear to Jedah.
But Frei's slippery shift gave him cause for hesitation.
The wings were no longer blocking -- their rotation had left a gap.
And the plunging claymore pierces through the surface tension of Jedah's outer garment -- his blood sizzling and popping as if the blade were forged with solar fusion. The blade sinks into the demon's flesh with surprisingly little resistance, as though it were no heavier than layers of cloth.

The demon's face contorts into a rictus of pain as he staggers forward -- immobilized just long enough for the ropes of water to loop around his neck. Choking itself is far from a concern of the Dark Messiah, but combined with the impaling strike of Zach Glenn, he's forced forward -- and slammed forward, face-first.

He does not hit the ground with a thud.
He hits the ground with a squish -- a sickly, liquid splash, as the surface tension is broken. The blood splashes back, tiny droplets interspersed between larger globules as a miniature rainstorm erupts.

And Jedah himself... Wasn't he face-down? He's face-up now, his features undifferentiating and reforging in the span of an eyeblink.
Hands wrap themselves around the blade, wrenching around the blade.
And he wrenches the blade -through- himself, leaving a horrific fissure through the left -- no, now it's the right -- of his torso.

With a leap backwards, the demon leaps clear of the blade, his crimson blood seared a crispy black from the contact with the blade. Air hisses through daggersharp teeth as the wounds seep with fresh blood -- the black char crumbling apart with the sheer force of will.

"Now... now you are asking the right questions."
His eyes flit to Rei. Then to Zach. And then to the conflagration occuring hundreds of meters away.
The buzzing of wings grows louder -- incessant, and impending.
"Why -would- I fight for the cause of the United Nations mongrels? What -could- I be up to, indeed...?"

As the broken body -- standing in brutal defiance of gravity despite the massive rent torn through its center -- swaggers back a step, the bloody mist seems to be getting -thicker-.
For it wasn't -just- the fallout of his injury.
It was step one of a counterattack. The bloody mist grows even thicker, threatening to choke the oxygen right out of Frei.
And the ruptured Jedah rushes forward, one hand lashing out with lightning speed to grab hold of Rei's throat -- making the choking much more of a -literal- attack.

Step two of the counterattack is something that Zach will feel a close and personal connection to. As not one, not two, but -five- of the insectlike Bladereavers scream forth from the direction of the airbase. Each weighs about three hundred pounds -- and each will be trying to drive their deadly bloodforged iron wings into his flesh. None will stay long -- the Bladereavers will each try to clip him on their flight past him, as they circle around for a second attack.

COMBATSYS: Zach Glenn blocks Bladereaver Pack's Scarlet Uprising.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                   ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|-----------<<<<                


                 [ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Zach Glenn       1/-----==/=======|====---\-------\0             Frei

COMBATSYS: Jedah successfully hits Frei with Finale - Rosso.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                   ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|-----------<<<<                


                 [ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Zach Glenn       1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\1             Frei

As soon as Jedah's hand makes contact with Rei, the pressure from the bloody rain overhead will intensify dramatically. To Zach, it will appear as the bloody rainstorm slams a rectangle out of the earth, as both Rei and Jedah fall instantly eight feet beneath the surface of the earth.

To Rei, it will be a much more... interesting experience, as he is forced to undergo the transition from breathing air to breathing nothing but liquid blood. Not fresh blood -- but stale blood, left to ferment for hundreds of years in the constructed reality of Majigen. Several dozen atmospheres of turbulent pressure will slam into his skin from every angle.

And that's in the moment -before- the thousands of undead souls realized he was there -- and before they started slamming their fists, skulls, and knees into him, aiming to ram what's left of the air out of his collapsing lungs so that he can more properly appreciate the blunt trauma of the situation. It's important to relish -all- of the agony, in the proper context of Jedah's gurgling, demonic laughter resounding against Rei's eardrums.

It ... will feel like an eternity of suffering.

But no vacation lasts forever -- and with a second thunderstorm of sanguine fluid, Jedah and Rei will burst out of the ground again, to the chorus of thousands of overlapping high-pitched voices laughing in imperfect unison.

Jedah's winged body is slick with red fluid -- though the cloth of his trappings and the details in his face lack differentiation.
The battle is beginning to take its toll on him, even as he displays no shortage of confidence as he flaps his terrifying wings, hovering above the two fighters as his five Bladereavers circle around for a second pass at the battling opponents.

"And still you persist, against the impossible...!!!"

[ZACH GLENN]
Zach whirls on yet another instinct, batting the first Reaver aside with the flat of his blade. The second is diverted with a well-timed pommel strike. Zach spins to avoid the third completely. The fourth one clips him in the ribcage, drawing a *whoof* of exhaled air, but does not escape before Zach can grab the monster with that glowing glove of energy. Zach promptly hurls the beast at the last assailant and skewing its flight path to send it off of its collision course.

Zach does not have time to see what happens with Rei, only having a moment to assess his situation when Jedah returns and gains a sort of honor guard. Emerald eyes narrow as the golden energy whipping around Zach's body and through his hair intesifies. The very air around the psion is forced away from him, spinning dust clouds and forcing falling blood away in its wake.

The hunter launches himself skyward and disappears again... only to reappear in the midst of the Bladereavers and Jedah.

"It's kind of what we do," Zach says in an /almost/ jocular tone before sweeping his sword in a horizontal arc that does not connect with anything at all. There are, however, five crescents of violet and amber force that sweep into existence to strike the Bladereavers out of the air!

[FREI]
Dante's Inferno posits that as one gets closer to the final circles of Hell, it's not the fiery pit of torment of popular imagining; rather its nadir, Cocytus, is where Satan himself gnaws and rends the worst traitors of history. For Dante, Hell was a place where one's sins manifest themselves in the surroundings, the landscape conforming itself to the wrongs done in life, so that one might repent everafter in death.

What sins, then, has Rei Hazuki committed to make this crimson hell his just reward?

Jedah gets to float gently away, dripping with blood and sangfroid. Rei is left hacking and coughing on the ground, lungs adjusting as best they can to an actual oxygen/nitrogen mix. And even the typically unflappable (or, at the very least, someone who doesn't *stay* gobsmacked for more than a few seconds) sennin's face reflects the psychological horror, more than the physiological impact, of what happened, invisible to all but himself and Jedah. But even on his knees, hands palm-down on the ground, he is merely bowed, not broken. Green motes of light spill out of the soil around Rei's fingertips, as he slowly but surely hauls himself upright, sadly unable to help Zach at this moment. One green eye is shut; the other he trains on Jedah.

"That didn't... kill me last time," Rei growls, voice wet and hoarse. "What made you think it would take *now*?"

It's a petty dig at their first meeting, but if the Lord of Dohma had any doubts about the identity of this person, they are almost certainly quelled now.

Strength returning every second, Rei straightens, but does not attack; instead he turns to Zach, noting the sudden intrusion of the reavers, hoping the white-haired soldier can hold them off until the sennin can help him. "And in any event, killing me now is temporary at best." What the hell does THAT mean?

COMBATSYS: Frei gathers his will.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                   ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|-----------<<<<                


                 [ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-------
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Zach Glenn       0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Frei

COMBATSYS: Bladereaver Pack blocks Zach Glenn's Flashing Blade.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                   ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 0|---------------|-----------<<<<                


                 [    |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|-----==
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Zach Glenn       0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Frei

[JEDAH]
Jedah Dohma has been quite busy, quietly advancing pawns towards his long-term scheme of unifying the world into one singular being. A busy man, he's apt to forget quite the multitude of faces he encounters along the way -- while some are hand-shaped into dynamos of flame and vengeance, and others tossed aside to simmer on the back burner for later.

Aya Hazuki was one of those left aside -- had he truly intended to kill her, as she suspects? Or had he merely allowed her to suffer in order to forge her into a stronger vessel?

Those words, though, show the truth. For someone to not only outlast their brief soujourn in the Majigen bloodscape -- but to emerge from it with enough wit and breath to spit out a bitter rejoinder -- shows a certain strength of character. One that was memorable enough to stand out.

"'Kill' describes a worthless end to a meaningless existence..." muses the Blood Weaver as he hovers a good ten feet above the battlefield, his wings flapping in long, languid strokes through the air. "Souls as potent as yours deserve far more meaningful roles in the Book of Humanity's final chapter."

The Bladereavers, battered about by the harrying strikes of Zach Glenn's light-infused sword, are none the worse for wear in the exchange. Wounds carved into their bloodforged iron hides glow with brilliant energy for a few moments after contact, but as scarlet vitae weeps from the rifts, the wounds are healed before the beetle-like creatures begin to circle around for a second pass.
The Bladereavers close in -- only to find strokes of violet and amber impeding their respective paths. Scarlet wing-covers slam forward in response, shifting form and sliding around to provide protective armoring for the heads of each creature. The harmonics of their wingbeats shifts to a harsh, thunderous tone as the creatures slow their approach, mitigating the impact of the crescent slashes. Angry chasms sprout up along the wing-covers, though these too begin to fill with scarlet fluids as the Bladereavers undergo a second transformation.

The Bladereavers quite simply drop from the sky, their wing-covers shifting into massive pauldrons. The beating of wings ceases, as the wings sweep forward to become spears, firmly affixed to the creatures' forelimbs. In staccato rhythm, the Bladereavers' insectoid feet slam into the ground. And at a sweeping hand gesture from their Lord, the five warriors -- their armor gleaming in the moonlight, not unlike those of Royal Knights from centuries past -- charge upon the Sennin of Elements, spear-arms extended to impale him several times through.

But through it all, the ruddy mist persists -- and with the Bloodlord's focus, it begins to swirl around him as an enormous tempest. The winds might not be enough to batter the heroes to the ground, but the increased pressure -- with Jedah at the "eye" -- is bound to garner notice.

"No -- Mere death is too simple. The UN has need of more commanders for their armies. Perhaps you could consider this a recruitment visit."
His beautiful face painted in glistening red, the Dark Messiah offers a reassuring smile in the direction of both Zach and Rei as he folds his arms in a gesture of utmost confidence.

And then, without further warning, Dohma launches himself towards Zach Glenn. His wings snap and bow, giving a brief impression that the very boost of speed cracked them in two -- until the truth becomes known. And the wings have reforged themselves into a pair of spinning buzzsaws, twirling around at Jedah Dohma's left and right side -- and threatening to carve deep furrows into the Slayer of Monsters.

"Embrace the infinite!"

COMBATSYS: Jedah successfully hits Zach Glenn with Ira - Piano.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                  |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------=|===============                


                 [     ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|------=
[                     \\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Zach Glenn       1/----===/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Frei

[ZACH GLENN]
Zach roars in pain as the blade cut into his sides. It's hard to get anything like an effective defense when you are in midair. Blood splatters, cloth tatters, and the tactical rig clatters to the ground. The psion hangs there for a moment, his vision swimming as he tries to maintain a grip on something... /anything/.

He reaches for Jedah, energy surging through his limbs...

COMBATSYS: Jedah dodges Zach Glenn's Fragarach.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                  |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [     ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|------=
[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Zach Glenn       0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Frei

COMBATSYS: Frei fails to interrupt Overwhelming Barrage from Bladereaver Pack with All Creation+.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                  |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [     ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|----===
[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Zach Glenn       0/-------/---====|>>>>---\-------\0             Frei

[FREI]
It must be fatigue, or blood loss (ironically enough)... something. Because the buildup for what Rei appears to plan is considerable. Even Zach, with his mastery of forces rather different, can feel it: the landscape resonating with whatever force the sennin is building. Jedah's comments, be they sincere or psychological warfare (or perhaps, strangely enough, both) go unanswered, for the moment; the reavers are the un-ignorable concern right now. All he can do is watch their charge, extend his awareness. Tap into what's around him. Become a condu--

And that's when his eyes widen, he clutches his chest, and Rei Hazuki tips forward, staggered, just as the reavers reach him.

The gathering storm of power dissipates in an instant, the redhead impaled on many knightly spears with a distressing soundlessness, the attack leaving his bloody body flat on its back on the ground... the 'it' here being almost entirely justified, as the glassy look in Rei's eyes suggests, for the briefest of moments, that right now there is nothing behind them but the muffled sound of tormented screaming, the dim, hazy view of an unending scarlet.

He's passed through death itself and come through the other side, but perhaps... perhaps that wasn't without cost.

When Rei finally hauls himself shakily to his feet, his voice is increasingly thick, almost slurred, with fatigue and injury. "You won't... get that from me," is all he says. What 'that' means is anyone's guess.

[JEDAH]
Jedah's bloody blades spiral into Zach's sides, churning up flesh and blood with each strike. The roar of pain only brings about a gleeful smile to the malevolent Blood Lord. And yet, the noble can sense that something is awry -- that perhaps he has only been baited into stepping closer.
He raises a palm.
The gesture could be read a sign for him to stop, but it is not meant that way -- rather, blood erupts outward from a rent in the palm. Combined with the a lazy hop backwards, the twin motions result in Jedah being thrown backwards a good fifteen feet, resulting in Zach's energy-laced grapple attempt falling woefully short.

Meanwhile, the Bladereavers' spears thrusting into Rei Hazuki results in the gory chorus of sounds one might expect -- which only keeps Jedah's cruel smile at near maximum intensity.

You won't get that from me?
"I know."
The smug bastard even chuckles.

Toes tap on the dirt, as Jedah allows himself to touch down once more. He slides his two fingernails together, making a keening sound -- not unlike two knives sharpening one another.
Instantly, the Bladereavers stop -- taking Rei out of check for the moment -- to look back at their Blood Lord.
And Jedah traces a line before them.
Dutifully, the Bladereavers begin erecting a wall between the white-haired Monster Slayer and the Elemental Sennin.

"I have extended the same offer of fealty to many such as you. And most have broken in the trials that result. But a select few..."
He cants his head to the side, smile fading a few notches -- as his pale blue skin finally begins to reassert itself over the blood-slick red. "... Let us cut to the chase. Ayame Ichijo -- she's a friend, yes? Her soul trails behind a pale mirror of itself with every movement -- just like yours."

With no further prelude, Jedah surges forward suddenly. His frame lashes outward -- as if he has no bones at all -- as he snaps himself like a whip towards Rei Hazuki.

His fingers would seek to draw themselves beneath the sennin's chin -- a more gentle gesture than the haft of his scythe from before.

But speaking of said scythe -- it seems to have dissolved into a burst of blood.
And his -wings- have liquefied as well, a deep crimson as they flop around. But as Jedah's spine solidifies again, the wings instead flurry into motion. The wings become like snakes of their own, writhing around with minds of their own. But if Jedah manages to grab hold of Rei -- the motion will be intended to jackhammer twelve rapid-fire blows into the captive Sennin.
And each point of impact will be punctuated by a concussive burst of bubbling, searing blood.

Madness lights the demon's eyes -- and he is on the verge of triumphant laughter.
"Which of you will embrace the darkness first...?!"

COMBATSYS: Bladereaver Pack takes no action.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                  |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [    |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|----===
[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Zach Glenn       0/-------/---====|>>>>---\-------\0             Frei

[ZACH GLENN]
Zach lands in a rough crouch, his breath ragged as he pays slight attention to the conversation. Jedah clearly has not read that list. The bladereavers are going to cause some problems if left unchecked, and Zach figures he should probably do something about that.

So the psion picks himself up, takes another breath, and dashes toward the nearest creature. He sweeps his gloved hand right to left, summoning a number of psychic blades around him before closing in on the nearest one. He leaps, and delivers a downward strike with Drynwyn. The impact will, if it connects, blast the monster into the dirt. This will buy Zach a second to flick his left hand at the thing to launch the blades simultaneously at the reaver.

It'd only be one, but it'd be a start.

COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Jedah's Charged Combo.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [    |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|----===
[                       \\\\\\\  < >  /////////                     ]
Zach Glenn       0/-------/---====|>>>>>--\-------\0             Frei

[FREI]
Rei has never had a particularly good poker face, but the invocation of Ayame's name makes the pain-dulled emerald eyes widen in undisguised emotion... though what exactly that emotion *is*, is anyone's guess. But perhaps seeking to shock or dismay the sennin before attempting to attack him was a tactical mistake on Jedah's part, the kind that self-confident ideologues make from time to time. Will it be enough to save Rei, however?

Maybe... but not without cost.

As Jedah's hand lifts Rei's chin -- a gesture almost gentle, almost caring, were it not a parody of both -- the air around both the Dohma scion and the redhead grows chill, however. The sanguine serpents under Jedah's command flail home, looking to deliver their violent payload in rapid succession... but little by little, they are slowed. Jedah's control over this blood, HIS blood, is too ancient, too considerable, too INTIMATE to be hijacked. But blood is mostly water, and water listens to the sennin, obeys the laws of thermodynamics. The blunting chill that seeks to freeze these bloody tendrils adds weight, heft, mass. Not enough to stop them, but enough to make them slow, sluggish, to reduce some of their potential energy, so that blows which might be debilitating, even fatal, are turned into yet another moment of potential survival, of dogged persistence.

"If you love the darkness so much," Frei bites out, struggling to bring his hands in front of him, palms together, "then how about you find some and stay there?"

The icy wind that enabled his defense has a second purpose: gathering in a tiny microstorm, a compressed sphere of cold and pressure, gathering between the two even as Jedah continued to wear away at Frei's remaining stamina. In a single instant, Frei releases it, looking to both explosively separate himself from the Blood Lord and send innumerable jagged shards of ice through his perfect form.

[JEDAH]
Bladereaver Pack falls asleep.

Bladereaver Pack wakes up.

COMBATSYS: Bladereaver Pack endures Zach Glenn's Explosive Strike EX.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [            |||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|=======
[                       \\\\\\\  < >  /////////                     ]
Zach Glenn       0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0             Frei

COMBATSYS: Jedah interrupts The Fourfold Path from Frei with Spregio ES.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                     ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [            |||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|=======
[                       \\\\\\\  < >  ///                           ]
Zach Glenn       0/-------/-======|=======\=------\1             Frei

Jedah expresses mild concern at the realization that his bloodborne serpents aren't slamming into his prey quite as quickly as he'd hoped. As their path slows more and more, frost begins to form on the tips of the projections, eventually progressing to the point that they lack the momentum necessary to sustain further attack.

Lord Dohma snarls, giving the Elemental Sennin a frustrated shove backwards. The simple clapback taunt has less effect on the demon lord than the incredible notion that the human before him might have actually mitigated his own attack.

"On the contrary --" he begins, as his pummeling appendages retract, reshaping themselves back into the form of wings. But in the withering blight of arctic wind, even -that- movement appears to be slowed, though -- seeking solace, the wings curl around the demon lord's hips, their ruddy hue solidifying back into cold iron.

And that's when the blizzard begins -- a hailstorm of icy arrows slamming into Jedah's upper torso. Already ravaged by a bloody furrow nearly paralleling the ground, the Dark Messiah must now contend with arrowpoints of ice punching holes into him -- each impact nibbling more and more away from the material husk he calls a body.

Every action, though, brings about an opposite reaction -- and in contradiction to the laws of physics, the reaction is -stronger- in this case.

Each time an icy arrowpoint pierces the outer membrane of flesh, a scalding-hot geyser of blood erupts outwards, slamming right back into the Sennin with white-hot vengeance. Jedah's counterargument to biting cold is searing heat -- enough to sublimate the icicles into little more than clouds of steam, enough to more than recompense for the wintry hailstorm dealt to him.

The only cost -- is the nigh-complete eradication of his upper torso, a riddled template of bloody holes that more resembles a paper target subjected to a shotgun barrage than a creature of the night.

As Zach makes his valiant charge onto the lone Bladereaver, the for others of the "wall" shift around to encircle him. As he sweeps his gloved hand to the side, the target of choice appears to resign himself to eating the attack, raising its spear-reinforced forelimbs as if to take the brunt of the blow head-on. The defensive posture has little influence on the monster hunter's follow-up of choice, though -- deflecting a blow from above is not one of the armored creature's core strengths.

The blade sinks in -- a sick spurt spraying out to coat Zach's sword arm in the accursed blood. The creature is driven downward, its spine -- or what suffices for such -- compressing as it's speared into the ground.

As an anchor. For, as Zach spends his time on one creature, the others have massed. Their spear arms are swung back -- and when they swing them forward, the bloodforged iron is surrounded by a bloody mist. Individual droplets of blood are loosed -- and each floating globule of blood elongates with supernatural speed into a tiny, impaling spear. Four Bladereavers will hit him at once -- with both bladed arms and the onslaught of a thousand tiny blood-spears.

As the wintry storm fades, the Bloodlord's wings creep their way up his hips. Their bladed edges flatten out, unfurling across the demon's perforated body.

And then, as the material shrouds across him, it pulls backwards -- sealing across him, like a vacuum pulling shrinkwrapping into place.

And in an instant, Jedah is recast -- his form glistening in fresh blood as the features reasset himself, from the blade-tipped headdress down to the peaks of his talon-like fingernails.

He steps away, moving stiffly at first -- the seams of his new and hollow shell cracking with each movement. His face splits into a broad smile as he raises his newly-rejuvenated hand to his chin, cradlign it gently.

"I so love the darkness that I would share it with the world. Much as your friend does -- dancing with the demon energies, insisting that -she- and not -they- are the master. ... The tactic certainly didn't work for the Interpol inspector, did it?"

He breaks into a chuckle, eyes remaining laser-focused upon Rei Hazuki even as his face begins to dry to the pale blue shade from before. "It's only a matter of time before the allure of the Infinite claims her soul as well as it has Daniel Jack's..."

COMBATSYS: Bladereaver Pack successfully hits Zach Glenn with Sanguinary Onslaught.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                     ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [            |||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|=======
[                            \\  < >  ///                           ]
Zach Glenn       1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1             Frei

[ZACH GLENN]
Blades and needles slam into and through Zach's body, sending more blood to the pavement this night. The psion doesn't scream so much as grunt; not enough air in the lings for a proper scream of any kind.

The hunter staggers backwards several steps, bringing Drynwyn into a wobbly but still horizontal alignment. Amber flame screams along the blade as he takes a single weak step, not towards the pack of blade reavers, but towards Jedah Dohma. Zach takes, in that step, a lunging stab at Jedah that falls far short of the Darkstalker.

The lance of psychic not-flame that lances out from the blade of the sword might be a different story, however. After the strike dissipates, however, the psion collapses to the tarmac. Blood loss will likely finish the job that the blade reavers started...

COMBATSYS: Zach Glenn can no longer fight.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                     ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [            |||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|=======
                                  >  ///                           ]
                                  |=======\=------\1             Frei

[FREI]
It must be nice to simply be able to re-grow an entire damaged torso. Certainly, as the spray of quite literally hot blood washes over Rei, the sennin might wish for the ability to simply pull up a new body on demand. The one he's currently in, at the very least, wouldn't a 'do-over' going amiss. But that's not how it works, at least not for him, and the result is that the redhead lands on one knee, grimacing, a hand to the ground to steady himself. The dark color of his tunic and gloves means the stains are not visible, but they are wet with blood... not all of it Jedah's. If the Blood Lord's goal was to push the redhead to his physical limit, then mission assuredly accomplished.

This might, then, make what comes out of Rei's mouth, in response to the regrown Jedah's sly commentary about Ayame and Daniel, as a bit of a surprise:

Ragged, wet-sounding laughter.

"You... sure about that?" the sennin asks, one eye closed, the other's bright green gaze trained on Jedah's pale form. It is as many words as he can get out without his body's betraying amount of pain and injury forces him to hiss a breath in through his gritted teeth, his attempt to stand forestalled and his hand going back to the ground. "I don't... know much about Daniel." This is true, at the least; they met once, in the old world, and haven't since. "But Ayame... her I know." Another pause, another hiss, and Rei hauls himself to his feet with supreme effort, looking as if he might topple any second... perhaps because he MIGHT. But there is enough in him for a parting shot. He hasn't been able to meaningfully help Zach, can feel the psion's presence weaken, the life ebbing out of Zach as well. But Rei knows *he* will recover in due time, through tricks of his own. If he can drive Jedah off, then perhaps the two can leave with their lives before the situation worsens.

And then there is... the rather more urgent personal matter.

Despite fatigue, despite pain, when Rei's hands come up in front of him, moving in lazy circles, there is still a grace to it, a confidence; manipulating energy this way has been the only thing he's ever been good at, but he *is* good at it. Elaborate traceries of cerulean and crimson begin to form, creating a complicated mandala in the air. And even as this pattern takes shape, and Rei keeps his gaze on Jedah, he seems to regain a little bit of strength with each passing moment. Not enough to keep the fight going, but enough to deliver one last message... or two, as it were.

"You don't know Ayame Ichijo very well... if you think she's going to give in," the sennin says, with a ragged grin. "The thing she most wants in the world, you could never give her."

For a moment, the priestess's flustered expression -- filtered to him through, at the time, Aya's eyes -- gives him a surprising moment of peace.

There is no more need for words. With an inarticulate yell, Frei drives one palm forward, slamming into a blue circle in the mandala. A glowing, spherical burst of frost streaks out toward Jedah in a spiralling, unpredictable path; if it connects, everything it touches instantly freezes solid in a massive burst of ice. With a second strike, Rei drives his hand into a red circle, and the process repeats with a ball of searing flame, before he takes one heavy breath, stepping forward and slamming both palms into the center of the mandala, which shatters; two more orbs -- one fire, one ice -- curve around each other in an orbital helix before striking together, the opposite-yet-complementary energies of cold and hot, yin and yang, erupting into a pillar of red and blue light.

When it passes, Frei is left back where he started: on the ground, coughing heavily, a hand pressed to the dirt for support. With everything he has he clings to consciousness... but that is as far as his will can take him. Of further fighting, there can be none.

COMBATSYS: Frei can no longer fight.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                     ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 1|--------------<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [            |||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|=======

COMBATSYS: Zach Glenn successfully hits Jedah with Flashing Blade EX.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                               ||||||||||||| ]
                 1|----------<<<<<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [            |||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|=======

COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Jedah with Unity of Opposites.

                               JEDAH                                
  [                                                       ||||| ]
                 1|------<<<<<<<<<|<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<                


                 [            |||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|=======

[JEDAH]
The Bladereaver squad pulls back as Zach recovers from their barrage. They have been instructed to contain Zach -- to keep his attention. And for the time being, when Zach takes steps to close in on Jedah, the four react in perfect unison, thrusting their spear-armed forelimbs into his path -- flat edge, not cutting edge -- to prevent him from getting any closer.

It might have worked -- had the psychic blade not plunged far beyond their reach.

Oddly, though, Jedah does not seem upset by their lack of containment.
He spreads his arms wide, presenting the widest possible silhouette for the psychic lance to strike home. As before, with the storm of icicles, the blade punches completely thoguh the bloodlord, loosing a spray of crimson mist as it exits out of the Bloodlord's horned back. But in contrast to earlier -- the impact rings hollow, with crimson cracks spiderwebbing their way throughout his perfect humanoid semblance. The blow would have been more than enough to fell all but the strongest and most resilient of humans. But that shell of a body vibrates, resonating unnaturally with the cadence of Rei's laughter.

The shell speaks, lips twisted into a wry smile.
"You say this -- and yet, given the opportunity, she made the same mistaken choices you have."

Cerulean and crimson energies intertwine into an intricate pattern, casting a coruscating rainbow of lights upon Jedah Dohma. His arms crack and splinter at the elbows, as he extends his hands outward to the two Saviors of Humanity.

"Slay the beast you know, while ignoring the damage wrought by the leviathans you do not."

The hand gesture was interpreted differently by the Bladereaver squad -- for they break off their assault, leaping away from the battle. Their limbs snap and gurgle, drawing back into their beetle-like carapaces. The blood-borne creatures are preparing for an assault of a different note.

A wintry blast engulfs the body of Jedah, encasing it fully within a tomb of ice. Blue skin glows with iridescent light, purple cloth shifts to blue, crimson shifts to rust. And still the lips move beneath the surface of the ice cube. His words are clear, air vibrating with the same dulcet tones despite the obstruction that would prevent a human from accomplishing the same feat.

"The United Nations will succeed. And Lord Raiden will destroy those responsible -- such as he is able."

The red sigil lights up. A torrent of flame engulfs the ice cube.

"And the greatest opposition to my armies of Darkness will be extinguished in one single, ill-informed gesture."

The shell gleams in pure white, barely visible through the rising storm of red and blue light that follows. Bitter cold cracks open the pores in the bloodforged shell. Furious flames tear the hairline fractures apart, sending the fractured, bloody shards tumbling upwards.

And behind the two combatants, the thunderous clamor of wingbeats, and the spray of blood signal the imminent lift-off of the Bladereaver squadron.

Crimson mist is all that remains -- crimson mist that vibrates in an all-too-familiar voice.

"Classic short-sightedness. You humans never cease to amuse me...!"

And then -- as the mist fades, so too does the malevolent presence that accompanies it, likely returning back to its point of origin.

COMBATSYS: Jedah takes no action.

                 [            |||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|=======

COMBATSYS: Jedah can no longer fight.

                 [            |||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|=======

COMBATSYS: Bladereaver Pack takes no action.

                 [            |||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Bladereaver Pack 0|-------|=======

[FREI]
Silence reigns in the area for long moments after Jedah disappears and the reavers fly off to whatever destination the Blood Lord silently directed them to. For his part, Rei just doesn't have the energy to do anything but be there on the ground, hand pressed reassuringly downward. In a fight, it's too difficult to alter that flow of energy to help wounds close and stamina return for very long. Without the distraction of a fight, however, that's a different story. It will be some time yet before the sennin is ready to get up and move around, but he clings yet to awareness and consciousness, a boon in and of itself.

This is why he lets himself topple backwards, lying sprawled on the destroyed ground, staring for a moment up at the persistent silver crescent of the moon, who has observed this conflict from its beginnings to its bloody end. His head lolls to the side, taking in Zach's apparently-unconscious form. He's alive, at least, and likely to stay that way, which is all Rei cares about.

With a grimace of protest the sennin reaches into a pocket and produces, against all logic, an intact smartphone. Staring at it for long moments, eyes out of focus, he realizes that there is in fact a few bars of service here, somehow; perhaps Japan's defenders made protecting the towers a priority. Or maybe, more likely, it's dumb, stupid luck.

Either way, the redhead laboriously types out a short message -- 'danger coming' and his GPS coordinates -- before staring at it blankly. Who to even send this to? It's not as if he has the JSDF on speed dial. Finally, he seems to make a decision, and with a friendly 'ding!' discordant with the surroundings, the message is sent and Rei leans back on the ground, breathing big, heavy, wet-sounding breaths.

"'The leviathans you do not', huh," he murmurs quietly, letting his eyes close.

-----

In a dark building, far away from this battlefield, there's the telltale sound and buzz of a text message being received in a shadowed, quiet room. Rubbing his eyes, an older man -- potentially a domestic servant, given his clothes -- rises from the chair in which he'd been getting fitful sleep, frowning at the glowing screen of the phone lying on a nearby table. "What is it, miss?" he asks, directing the comment at the occupant of another chair.

Looking out a pair of wide windows to the north, Aya Hazuki feels her free hand, the one not holding a phone, tighten around the hilt of her sword. "Trouble."

Log created on 09:24:38 11/12/2017 by Jedah, and last modified on 11:49:41 11/27/2017.