Fan-Fiction: Pax Dystopia: An Islanders' View Day 3

Day 3

"Seems like comms are restored," said Agent Tasha.

The group holed up at the airport had managed to scrounge up an above-decent meal to start the morning out, but it didn't take long for tempers to start flaring when the discussion topic became that of the vast number of unconscious people around them and across the island. Half of the contingent had wanted to try to reach their families now that the main threat to their safety appeared neutralized, however there was a vociferous section that preferred to stay isolated until BADGE, the police, the military, whoever, showed up. At one point, several demanded for Tri-blade to come clean on some conspiracy theory involving subjugating the populace for the meta humans to take over the world, but Tri-blade quickly disarmed the thoughts by correctly pointing out that BADGE certainly would have appointed more well-known or at least more notorious heroes in this area. Eventually, they decided to wait a little while longer. The appearance on the TV screens of a live broadcast - from the island of Barbados, not too far away - was a surprise, but met with cheers and joy.

"Maybe whatever Ren Tech had schemed up got overwritten," said Tri-blade, "and hopefully that Chorad fella or whatever his name is, will be getting their just desserts soon."

"Something we haven't thought of," said Agent Tasha with worry in her face, "these people, they're unconscious, but not in suspended animation or anything like that. We have no idea what their vitals are. They're going to need hydration and who knows what else?"

Tri-blade nodded, then called out to everyone, "Any doctors, nurses, anybody with any medical knowledge?" Three people stepped forward, hands raised.

"We're all based at Victoria Hospital nearby," the oldest of the three nurses said, "and you're right on treatment. But we can't go out to every comatose person and give them IVs, feeding tubes and ventilators. It's impractical and close to impossible."

"I have a hunch," said Tri-blade, "that the Ren-tech may be keeping their brain functions active. Remember how they were acting before they shut down. That probably also means they're keeping the breathing and blood circulation going as well."

"That still means they need some kind of feeding tubes, no to mention preventing skin infections. Even if we had a full staff of medical professionals... getting equipment out to everyone? Impossible!"

"Nothing's impossible! After all, the word itself says 'I'm possible'!" called a voice. Everybody turned to see a blue-skinned creature wearing a black dress, a 1950's style beehive wig, and holding a novelty cigarette holder to his mouth.

"Nice dress, Audrey?" asked Tri-blade, torn between laughter and confusion.

Strange Quark snapped his fingers and the dress and cig holder disappeared instantly, revealing Quark's regular outfit. The wig, however, remained present.

"Well scored, Tri-blade. Ten points to Gibbendorr!" Quark said as he strutted out to the group.

"Appreciated, Quark." He gestured to the others. "Everybody, Quark. Quark, everybody. Formal introductions on pause, for now..."

Quark nodded sadly, suggesting to Tri-blade that things were truly in a rough patch.

"What can you tell us?"

"Firstly... do not try to remove the RenWear. While it's sort of kept the brain functions active, removing it will sever everything. They'll be lost forever."

"Oh my lord," said Agent Tasha, covering her mouth.

"Secondly, everybody will starve if we don't keep them going. How many people do we estimate are in St. Lucia?" Quark continued.

"Probably in the two hundred thousand range," said Tri-blade. "and that's just one island in this chain. We have no idea how many conscious people are in the other islands..."

"We've yet to have contact with any other agents in the region," Agent Tasha added.

"If we can get as many people together in one area as possible, it'll save us a ton of time," replied Tri-blade. "Quark I already know you're required all over the planet... how much time can you give us to help teleport folks over?"

"Not much, Tri. Torrik's working non-stop state-side, and I'm supposed to be at the India-Pakistan border 985 seconds ago. If I hurry I can get anybody I see in the eastern part of the country -"

"No, go south, please. The Grenadines. Anybody there will be isolated. Get as many as you can to Victoria Hospital. If you happen to land in St. Vincent, please do a check-in and let us know the situation. Everyone here who can drive will try to collect people and bring over here. C.F., Quark."

Quark's eyebrow raised, then he nodded. "Two other things of note, Tri."

"Yes?"

"Thirdly, based on availability, we're going to send at least two BADGE robots to assist. You and Agent Tasha should be able to command them accordingly."

"And lastly,... we've got Nova."

Surprising Tri-blade and Quark alike, a cheer went up from the crowd who had gathered around to listen in on the dialogue.

"It'll take some time for him to get fully up to speed, but with him alive, we know we have a shot at this," Quark smiled as he vanished in a spark of light.

After the group divvied up assignments to head out and gather as many of the unconscious as they could to bring to the area hospitals, Agent Tasha took Tri-blade aside.

"Um, what's C.F.?"

Tri-blade puta a hand on his friend's shoulder as he softly said, "Children first."

[Tri-blade] [ID: 10879]

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Fan-Fiction: Pax Dystopia: An Islanders' View Day 2

Day 2

The journey was deliberately slow. Agent Tasha had been directing the bus driver to take the routes where there were more likely to be masses of people, but after around an hour everybody noticed that the initial din of chaotic behavior had dropped significantly. The vast majority of people that they had come across frantically charged towards the bus, waving Ren Wear glasses in outstretched hands, but there were a few extremely scared locals who had the good fortune to lock themselves in their homes.

While Tri-blade projected an energy shield between the houses and the marauders, Agent Tasha scampered towards the residents and quickly ushered them to the bus. It was no small feat for Tri-blade to retreat to the bus without getting overrun or risking harm to the bus itself.

As they continued their journey, Tri-blade periodically tried to call his allies, his leaguemates, and the other St. Lucia-based heroes. No responses. Could they all have been overrun? Has the BADGE communications network been disabled? He put the negative fears aside as they approached a gas station to refuel.

"They're unconscious," remarked Agent Tasha as she stepped out. Tri-blade cautiously went inside the gas station with her to get the pump activated while the driver grabbed the pump. Three people - each wearing Ren Tech glasses, laid on the floor. The woman behind the counter - an employee, was gripping the glasses tightly, as if resisting them being placed on her until she collapsed.

"What do we do?" asked Agent Tasha.

"I'm not sure," replied Tri-blade. "I'd rather get Director Nova's advice before anything... but one thing's for sure.

He looked at the bus outside. The bus was nearly jam-packed with worried passengers.

"We're going to need another vehicle soon."

-

Their final destination - the capital city of Castries - had both a seaport and airport in close vicinity. Tri-blade, who was now in a separate bus driven by one of the Lucians they rescued, called out to Agent Tasha in the lead vehicle. They had driven throughout the night, and most people were running on pure adrenaline at this point. The sun rose on a quiet landscape, with only the chirping of birds to be heard.

The two buses pulled over next to each other. Passengers slowly exited to stretch their legs and share their stories with each other, while the two drivers, Tri-blade, and Agent Tasha surveyed the scene.

"Nothing's moving at all," remarked the first driver.

Agent Tasha added, "Probably a good thing where the airport's concerned. Glad no planes have been in the air during all this."

"I would ordinarily say we should try to fortify in case we have another surge," said Tri-blade, "on the other hand we have to consider if we're isolated from the world in general." He scratched his chin in frustration.

"Let's go to the airport, but carefully. Our first priority has to be keeping these guys safe. Second priority is reaching BADGE... or anybody. If our comms are out, maybe the computers or radios there will be of help.

"Any objections?"

The others shook their heads, and after a quick conversation with those gathered around the buses, they made their way to the airport, their spirits lightened, and their hope boosted.

Three hours later, and the group was just finalizing their fortification of the airport main hall, when the comms of Agent Tasha buzzed.

"Oh my god, it's BADGE..." she muttered to herself in disbelief. She tried to keep her composure as she answered the call.

"Agent Tasha, St. Lucia, Castries, check."

"Good to hear you," came the calm voice of Gar. The others, on hearing the well-known voice of Gargoyle, started muttering sounds of gratitude. "We haven't been able to reach most of our field agents so far."

"How about the other leagues?" Agent Tasha asked, motioning Tri-blade to approach.

"Even fewer," he said sadly. "Of all hero groups only Ice Ray Academy has evaded the swarm."

"Gar, this is Tri-blade," Tri-blade called out, "What about the senior BADGE officials - Nova, Chase, Justin, EB?"

"Chase has fallen, as has Justin. Nova too, but we haven't located him. EB, he's still with us. Strange Quark and him are teleporting all over the place trying to locate people. Right now, we don't have a full strategy on any of this."

"Stay strong, big fella. Unfortunately, I don't know what to do with the people with the RenWear. Does BADGE have a position?"

"Not yet, Tri-blade. Until we know for sure where Nova is, EB may be the senior person to advise..."

"Oh..." said Tri-blade and Agent Tasha in unison.

"Wish I could advise myself," said Gar sheepishly.

"You're doing great, Gar. We'll wait and analyze on this end. If Quark contacts you, can you ask him to pop over?"

"You got it, Tri," said Gar, his voice slightly more cheerful.

"We're just glad to hear from others. It's been a day," said Tri-blade.

"Ditto!" cried Agent Tasha.

"I have to reach out to the next set of Agents now, so stay safe," said Gar.

They said their good-byes, then Tri-blade pulled Agent Tasha aside.

"We're not alone and that's the best news we've heard so far. Next steps, keep our crew hydrated, find some food and get at least a little bit of rest. We have a lot to plan for if we're going to help everybody else on this island."

Agent Tasha nodded, concealing her worry for the moment.

[Tri-blade] [ID: 10879]

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Fan-Fiction: Pax Dystopia: An Islanders' View Tryangle

Day 1

It was the sort of hot and humid day where anybody with the freedom to do so, was either at the beach or in an air-conditioned building. However, for many people in the open-air market at Gros Islet, selling fresh produce and freshly caught fish was a necessity of life. Vendors called out to every man, woman, and child walking in the vicinity - claiming to have the best apples, mangoes or guava from the entire Caribbean.

"We got bananas, fresh as the morn!" called out an elderly lady, gesturing at a group of teenagers, all of whom were wearing grey jackets and wore large knapsacks. This unusual combination of clothing was capped by each of them wearing RenWear glasses.

Suddenly, the group of teenagers burst into a run. Their faces were blank, although their mouths were slightly gaped. The vendors and their prospective customers were too stunned to even run, and the first scream only began when the elderly lady was tackled to the ground by one assailant. The woman no sooner had struck the ground when a set of arms affixed another set of Ren Wear glasses to her head.

The commotion grew from there, as people began to run, dropping their purchases. However, they were soon surrounded by another group of people, this one of varying ages. They each wore Ren Wear glasses.

"STOP!" called a voice. The vendors and customers turned to face the source of the booming voice, but the Ren Wear-wearing people ignored the call, instead running towards the market.

"Ah dang it," muttered Agent Tasha, a diminutive woman in her early 30s and a third-year field officer of BADGE. She pulled out her comm. "TRI! Need you, now!"

"Less than a minute, Tash," was the reply.

Agent Tasha opened another channel on her comm. "Agent Tasha to BADGE HQ! We have -" Static was on the other end. "Dang it," she muttered. "Something's interfering on the global BADGE channel or something."

Agent Tasha pulled out her batons, and activated the low-level electric shocks. She didn't have time to wait, and charged at the assailants as they drove other people to the ground. She successfully struck three young men in succession, knocking them down. A woman screamed, then suddenly went silent as a set of Ren Wear glasses was placed on her face.

The woman quickly rose to her feet, then made a beeline towards a stunned Agent Tasha.

"Um,... what?" whispered Agent Tasha as she backed away, momentarily forgetting her batons.

A large mass crashed into her side, knocking her down. She lost control of her batons, and suddenly a man was straddling her chest. She moved to strike, but her arms were pinned down by the woman. Her head twisted left, only to see another person reach out with a set of Ren Wear glasses.

"I. Don't. Think. So," called a nearby voice. The weight on Tasha's chest was yanked off, as the hero named Tri-blade appeared. He shoved away the woman pinning Tasha's arms down, then helped Tasha to her feet. She quickly located and grabbed her batons, and stood back-to-back with her friend.

"What are we going to do?" asked Agent Tasha, concern in her voice.

"Right now, defend anybody not yet wearing those devices," replied Tri-blade stoically. He pointed at the crowd at the market. "Bad news, that number of people is dropping by the instant. We need a safe zone, away from anybody wearing the Ren Tech!"

Agent Tasha held her head in her hands. "That's the schools out, the hospital, the supermarket..."

"We'll have to make our own, then," said Tri-blade. He shouted to anyone within earshot, "Follow me!" He raised one of his mystical daggers and shot a burst of energy from it. They shuffled quickly towards a bus parked nearby, no passengers onboard and the driver sitting at the wheel, bewildered at the scene.

"Driver, you wearing Ren Tech?" asked Agent Tasha.

"No way, gal. Thing ugly and duncy," the driver sneered.

"Good enough, driver." She stepped in and took the seat opposite the driver. "BADGE will take care of your fare today."

"Sounds good to me. Where to?"

"Drive through the town. We gathering anybody in need of protection, then we get out of here."

Tri-blade dashed towards the bus door, holding the hand of a young girl. He helped her in, then stepped in the doorway.

"Let's go, driver," he commanded. As the bus slowly made its way forward, Tri-blade shouted again, "Everyone! Come with me!"

"... if you want to live," he thought sadly.

[Tri-blade] [ID: 10879]

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Fan-Fiction: A post-Antaeus saga tale: Climb Too High

Many years ago, there was a group of baboon families that lived at the edge of the rainforest, near a great river. Predators were rare in the area, and food was relatively plentiful.

One of the younger baboons, he had very strong arms and legs - and all of his friends knew that he was poised to become one of the dominant males when he reached adulthood. The thought of being the troop alpha excited the youngster greatly. He loved to show off. Every day, he would dash to the largest rock, climb to the top and shout at the top of his lungs. He would only stop when one of the dominant adults approached and bared their teeth. The youngster would retreat, but secure in his budding position.

There was a small cluster of fruit trees - some call them omwandi - and the fruit was known to be juicy and nourishing. The trees grew tall, however most of the baboons could only climb to the first few sets of branches to claim the reward.

The youngster baboon, he would boast to his friends that he would climb to the top, grab the best fruit, and prove himself the greatest among all in the troop. Some of his friends laughed, as if the alpha males couldn't get to the top, how could he? Others wailed in sorrow. They suggested that the risk of falling and dying wasn't worth it, especially if perfectly fine fruit was available at the first set of branches.

The youngster bared his canines menacingly, then pounded the ground in unbridled rage. He'll show them. He was the best among them.

He scaled the tree effortlessly, reaching the second set of branches without stumbling once. The young baboons stopped chattering and gawked at their seemingly fearless comrade.

The youngster in the tree was overjoyed. He looked upwards, and with determination, scaled his way to the next tier. He was exhilarated on reaching the thick branches. He looked down and across the plains. He squealed with delight.

The surprise among the young baboons slowly changed to worry. They started to scream, beating their chest. They wanted him to come down, do not climb any higher.

However, the baboon in the tree heard the calls as an exhortation. He pounded his chest and yelled fiercer than he ever had before.

He stretched forward, then leaped up. His arms found purchase and in a matter of seconds, the baboon swung his way to a branch never reached before by any baboon in the troop.

Wild with joy, the young baboon screamed and danced along the branch. He was too excited to even grab the luscious fruits all around him. He had done it. The world was all his -

A loud noise, then the baboon slowly teetered, before it fell from the tree and crashed to the ground. The hunter's bullet had struck the baboon with precision. The other baboons scattered quickly, knowing that death followed the sound of gunfire.

-

"The higher monkey climbs, the more he exposes himself," said the local man, head bowed slightly.

"Well, that story took a sad turn," grumbled Agent Michelle.

Tri-blade put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's more about the moral, than an actual event." He turned to the local man. "Probably not an Anansi story, but it's not an unfamiliar tale. Thanks for sharing."

The man smiled, nodded, then walked away.

"Come on, Meesh. After this task, we have to go to Bongor, then circle north. There are a few other villages along the way. As I said earlier, Chad is one big ol' place. And people are counting on us."

"Aye-aye, captain," Agent Michelle said as she gave a mock salute.

[Tri-blade] [ID: 10879]

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Fan-Fiction: A post-Antaeus saga tale: Climb Too High

Everyone on the workcrew was offered a choice of protective hats before taking on the daunting task. Tri-blade readily accepted a blue broad-brimmed one ("Hey, it matches my suit," when his friend and colleague started to chuckle at him) and donned it quickly before heading to the drill site.

"It's great that BADGE is putting more resources into digging wells and creating reservoirs for everyone here, Meesh," Tri-blade said as he lugged a set of pipes behind him. "The best part of it is that this could be seen as easy P.R. but everyone's genuine in helping out."

Agent Michelle nodded. "If anyone needs help, it's the people of the nearby villages. The Antaeus encounter left a big scar on many fronts. This is just one step in getting everyone back on their feet."

Tri-blade and a group of assorted BADGE agents and a few super-powered persons began the relatively quick work of clearing the designated area of brush and debris, then a set of drill rigs were wheeled in. Expert crews began the process of drilling, while the others started setting up fencing and the foundation for an accompanying rainwater catchment system.

"Africa is massive. Chad itself is large. Each individual location is worthy of focus and detail and we've got a long way to go, even in this pocket of land," said Tri-blade as he wiped sweat off of his brow.

Michelle added, "That man who became Antaeus, sigh. Was it a case of someone getting power, then getting too boasty about it?"

Tri-blade began to reply, but was interrupted by a local villager. Middle-aged and very slender, he sighed a bit loudly, yet was smiling.

"I have a good tale about getting too high and mighty. You want to hear it?" he said in a quiet, yet stern voice.

Eyebrow raised, Tri-blade looked at the man, then at Michelle.

"I've heard one or two tales from the Mythic Anansi while here a while back, I suspect this may be one of them. But go on, friend, for my friend's benefit. We're always willing to learn more oral stories, after all, this continent is renowned for them."

The man nodded, then stood tall. As he began to speak, Tri-blade noticed that he immediately appeared younger and more spritely.

(To be continued)

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Fan-fiction Contest: What If Nova fell, not Kruhl

Tri-blade ID: 10879

The air was stifling, choking. The sun rose, but there was very little light, and even less heat. The sky was a dusty orange-brown and the buildings and streets appeared to be made of rust. A low-pitched giggle emerged from the mouth of the dark blue-skinned humanoid figure as she took in her surroundings. While the Legion's goal hadn't yet been completed, she knew it was only a matter of time before her squad leader - and more importantly, her Emperor - savoured final victory. She was driven by the gleeful thought that various heroes of Earth were still managing to frustrate her forces.

Her giggles turned into a loud series of cackling, in the knowledge that her enemy had showed such mettle against the odds.

Impulse floated upwards, her ecstasy at its peak.

---

The likes of Skelanimal and Midgardsomr had morphed into a permanent enlargement as a means to deter further assault on their individual forms, and an uneasy truce existed between the behemoths and the Legion generals. No matter, grunted the generals, they would merely be the last to taste ultimate defeat after the others fell. Anybody without the ability to grow to mountainous size was a target, in the interim. As those numbers declined, the Legion grew ever more confident.

The escaped conman known to the outside as Gamer G looked on at the hellscape before him with longing and regret. It wasn't too long ago that Purgatory Pen was destroyed. This unforeseen instance gave him his freedom, but only from the authorities on Earth. Legion had inscribed a different sort of imprisonment.

He looked skyward. He knew that BADGE's ground headquarters was decimated and the orbital space station obliterated in a separate assault by Legion forces, its leaders crushed. All parts of the world were in a chaotic state, without any semblance of law and order. People, where they could, tried to make do with limited resources but those were diminishing rapidly. Some of his fellow inmates continued to remain mischievous, partly to be seen as a useful impediment by Legion, but oftentimes instead merely falling to their base instincts without care or thought of what tomorrow could bring.

Gamer G frowned.

He walked to his small dwelling that was no larger than a car garage, and turned on his computer. Legion through its agents had requested he work to disrupt the remaining communication elements available to the known hero groups and local authorities, and he made great effort to demonstrate his successes to his overseers. However, at sporadic intervals, encrypted messages were leaked. Ones advising of where the generals were slated to move to, which areas were relatively safe, and the volume of artillery and foot-soldiers available to each. In between, he sent his location, hoping against hope for an eventual rescue.

He sighed loudly as he clicked his mouse key a final time.

"Unwise," said a sinister voice behind him.

Eyes opened wide, Gamer G whirled around, only seeing the collection of toys and mascots behind him. Then he noticed something else, and his face dropped.

Frankie, an animatronic dog pieced from a variety of parts and with the ability to be mind-controlled by Gamer G himself, was not what it seemed. Gamer G whimpered as it transformed into the shapeshifter. Gamer G bit his tongue, knowing he had failed himself. After all, it was Bioform herself who had transformed into a Purgatory Pen guard and released him from behind bars. He should have known better.

With surprising speed, Gamer G rose from his chair and dashed outside. He was ten feet away from the front door when he felt a hard mass pierce his abdomen. He looked down and saw a metal pipe sticking out. He fell to the ground, turning to face his assailant.

He tried to speak, but Bioform shook a finger. "Why would you choose to die today, human? Legion would have let you live. Your ability would have seen you live to explore more worlds. But you chose instead to die. I do not understand -"

"Strike hard!" called a stern voice, silencing a stunned Bioform. Immediately a bolt of energy seared across her face, driving her to the ground. Another bolt, this one bluish in appearance, knocked her further away. A man with giant steel wings affixed to his back zoomed across, delivering a swinging cross to Bioform's face. Gamer G's last sight was that of a woman running in and affixing some sort of restraining device to Bioform's arms.

---

"What's the status?" asked DaMoN, the glow from his eyes receding.

Phantom shook his head as he released the arm of the now dead Gamer G.

"He's gone," said Crossroads, her sadness plain to see.

Tri-blade opened the door of Gamer G's dwelling and peered inside. He quickly turned back to the members of the Strike Force unit.

"Wings, Super Rakly, can you investigate the computers? There's probably more useful info on the hard drives but we'll need to move them to a secure location quickly," he said.

"Ten-four," said Hot Wings.

Midnight-Walker said, "This was rough. But it's new information, and potentially a turning point. There aren't many of us left, but there may be renewed hope."

Unseen by the group, an unusually large bunny blinked at the group from a distance, then hopped away at rapid speed.

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Fan-Fiction: Easter Village... or Groundhog Day?

It was a beautiful, brisk and sunny day outside the training dojo. Tri-blade wasn't usually one to stop and smell the proverbial roses, but the atmosphere felt so pleasant that he took a more leisurely walk towards his training site. For the past couple of weeks, he took at least one day a week to walk a couple of miles to this tucked-away location not far from New Utopia City but not particularly well-known. He was on good terms with the manager, and it was easy to book morning sessions, without interruption from fellow metahumans or the paparazzi.

His comms buzzed just as he entered the dojo. He smiled but continued to set up the workout equipment.

"Aye, what's up?"

"Oh, it's that time of year, huh. Guess I better not settle down too much, that rabbit has a habit of whisking people at the strangest time."

He looked at his weapon holster, currently mounted on a set of hooks on the wall, then resumed wiping down a bench.

"I don't know how that bunny is able to tag every BADGE-registered person, but at least nowadays the veterans among us are expecting it and can prepare accordingly."

"Yeah, it's a bit inconvenient to say the least,... but he means well. And the children love the hoopla about the eggs and chocolate... what's that?!"

Tri-blade whirled around at the sound of rustling behind him, arms already held forward defensively. Tri-blade looked at a man, clad in a silver-coloured helmet, battle gauntlets and light metal boots that covered his lower legs. Around him, energy crackled mightily, and was most heavily concentrated in loops around the set of claws he wielded in each glove.

It was an unfamiliar look, but there was no doubt as to who the interloper was.

"Um, Shinobi?" he asked. He ignored the voice on the other end of the comms asking what was going on.

Shinobi nodded, then dropped one of his claws, only to pick up a bamboo basket.

"Glad I found you so quickly. Now. LET'S DUEL!" He lunged in, quick as a mouse, and Tri-blade barely avoided a strike from the swinging basket.

"Shinobi, what the devil, I'm not even -"

A basket materialized in his right hand.

Realization hit him quickly. "Oh."

They engaged, but the battle was not at all what Tri-blade expected. Over the past year, Shinobi's strength had surged while Tri-blade's held steady. Ordinarily, his one-time rival would have flattened Tri-blade 99 times out of 100 without breaking a sweat, but Tri-blade found himself holding his own, albeit with baskets replacing their usual weaponry. After a few minutes, Tri-blade struck a decisive blow, sending Shinobi tumbling against the wall. He collapsed, then rose to his feet, giving a ceremonial bow.

"Until next, time, friend," said Shinobi, before throwing a Flash Bomb to the ground.

Tri-blade groaned, but the smoke cleared quickly and he found himself alone again.

"Sorry, you still here?" Tri-blade called out to his comms unit. "I fear this is going to be one of those kinds of days -"

Tri-blade whirled around at the sound of rustling behind him, arms already held forward defensively. Tri-blade looked at a man, clad in a silver-coloured helmet, battle gauntlets and light metal boots that covered his lower legs. Around him, energy crackled mightily, and was most heavily concentrated in loops around the set of claws he wielded in each glove.

"Wait a minute!" shouted Tri-blade.

Shinobi already had a basket in his hand. "Glad I found you so quickly, Tri-blade. Now. LET'S DUEL!" He lunged in, quick as a mouse, and Tri-blade barely avoided a strike from the swinging basket.

Tri-blade looked quickly at the basket still in his hand, and sighed. "Guess I'll have to talk to you later, this is definitely going to be one of those kinds of days."

They engaged in battle again, this time Shinobi's movements were a little different, but Tri-blade found himself parrying and countering with ease. After a few minutes, Tri-blade delivered a solid strike with his free hand, sending Shinobi tumbling to the ground.

He quickly rose to his feet, giving a ceremonial bow. "Until next, time, friend," said Shinobi, before throwing a Flash Bomb to the ground.

Tri-blade immediately dropped his basket and ran in the direction of the smoke, to no avail. Shinobi was gone yet again. Tri-blade had no idea how much time had passed during those two battles, but he didn't feel any real fatigue. It was an unusual situation, to say the least. Scratching his head, he started to walk back to the bench.

Tri-blade whirled around at the sound of rustling behind him, arms already held forward defensively. Tri-blade looked at a man, clad in a silver-coloured helmet, battle gauntlets and light metal boots that covered his lower legs. Around him, energy crackled mightily, and was most heavily concentrated in loops around the set of claws he wielded in each glove.

"SHINOBI!" cried Tri-blade.

Shinobi already had a basket in his hand. "Yes, it is I, Tri-blade. Now. LET'S DUEL!" He lunged in, quick as a mouse, and Tri-blade barely avoided a strike from the swinging basket.

"I. Am. Getting. Too. Old. For. This..." grunted Tri-blade as he swung, already feeling the basket in his hand.

Despite being made of bamboo, the baskets clashed with each other as though they were blunt weapons, and each of the warriors felt the impact of their strikes. Empowered, Tri-blade stopped trying to parry, and simply exchanged blows with Shinobi, who didn't seem bothered by the unusual tactic. Eventually, Tri-blade's bludgeoning attack sent Shinobi sprawling to the ground. The ninja-esque character shook his head rapidly, then rose to his feet.

"Until next, time, friend," said Shinobi, before throwing a Flash Bomb to the ground.

"Oh dammit..."

The smoke cleared.

Feeling trapped, Tri-blade only had one intention.

"EEEEEEEEEEE! BEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Wow, that's one heck of a summon, usually only Chase or Nova, or sometimes Agent Justin, can call my name that loudly," said Easter Bunny as he materialized in front of Tri-blade. "Well of course the Snake fella was louder than all of you guys put together, but now that he's moved to parts beyond, the competition for loudest caller is probably back up for grabs. That reminds me of this reality show where a bunch of bikini-clad people do crazy stunts for -"

"Bunny," said Tri-blade, walking away, not willing to endure the soliloquy.

E.B. caught the hint and hopped towards Tri-blade. "How are you enjoying the Eastertown - wait, I haven't even put up the egg-painting..."

"Bunny."

E.B. looked on silently.

"Am I in some kind of temporal loop with Shinobi? What's going on?"

"Well," E.B. stammered, "someone offered a business opportunity to get the flowers-and-chocolate market to reach new heights, and it's a win-win for everyone involved, Tri-blade. You'll love it! Your D.W. numbers will skyrocket, blank eggs will ooze out of the wazoo, and the guys in Vegas are going to be super psyched!"

"Why me, though?"

"Word is you have a really strong chin?" offered E.B.

"Bunny."

"Let's just say some people are able to max out their scores against you, as long as they avoid defeating you."

Tri-blade nodded. "I get it now. Well, I suppose I better try and get something out of the weekend, then."

"That's the spirit!" yelled E.B., his hindleg tapping the ground rapidly.

"But please don't interfere anymore. I still have things I want to do this weekend, don't want to be battling nonstop the next 72 hours."

"Okay. I won't add any more people to your hit list this time out," said E.B.

"Wait what now? More -"

E.B. dashed away quicker than a speeding bullet.

"I wonder if curried rabbit is a thing," Tri-blade muttered before hearing a rustling behind him.

Tri-blade whirled around, a basket already in his hand.

"Aha! Face me!" called a voice.

"And then, me!" called another.

Tri-blade blinked. In front of him was a man, clad in a silver-coloured helmet, battle gauntlets and light metal boots that covered his lower legs. Around him, energy crackled mightily, and was most heavily concentrated in loops around the set of claws he wielded in each glove.

"Hi Shinobi. But who's that..."

"Um, hey, Tri," was the sheepish voice in response.

"Mage? What the -"

"LET'S DUEL!" shouted Shinobi as he charged in.

Tri-blade sighed, then engaged in battle. To a side, Ability Mage absent-mindedly twirled his basket, whistling a tune.

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