Rare Solbourne arrives on Mortal Rim with a thundering presence.

He, like Pablo and The Goddess in their first excursion, arrives right in the middle of one of the humans’ walker machines.

This convoy has ten, maybe fifteen walkers crawling through the night. It’s quiet here, much more so than Rare was told to expect.

But they are ready for anything.

It is not long before General Griffin, the eyepatch-sporting old man with a grimace and a pipe rambles up to greet them.

“Hey you,” he says. “What’s your deal?”

“I was told you have a little problem here on Mortal Rim,” Rare says. “I want to fix it.”

“Psshaw. That’s what those Americans said. They all died. That’s what those two weirdoes said. Haven’t seen any of them coming back in a while.”

“I’m with the weirdoes, actually,” they say. “They sent me here to help you.”

“All of you outworlders talk big talk, but I need action before I’ll listen to anything you say.”

Rare steps past General Griffin and towards the edge of the walker. “Stop the vehicle,” they say.

“Are you paying any attention to me? I’m not helping you. This is an entire city you’ll doom if we don’t make it past the Granular Pass by next week. Burrowing Season starts soon, and the monsters will be rife.”

“Perfect.” Rare smiles. Smirks, even.

They raise their hands in the air and cast a powerful spell. A fierce lightning bolt strikes the ground in front of the walker.

It comes to an halt, its emergency sensors activated.

Several glowing monstrous figures light up in the background, a mile away or more. The beasts bound towards their location.

“Are you MAD?!” General Griffin shouts. “That’s THREE kaiju approaching us. We can’t handle that!”

“Don’t worry. You don’t need to.”

“What, are you going to try and kill them all by yourself so we’ll drop down and help you win your war?”

Rare shakes their head. “No, not that at all.”

“Then what?”

“I’m not here for your help. Getting your troops and walkers to Mystix would take too long, with your convoy and all that.” Their hands both light up with magical energy. “You can help us rebuild after the war. But for now, I’m not interested in you. I’m interested in THEM.”

Rare turns their focus away from General Griffin and towards the fast approaching kaiju. Their reptile-like features illuminated by their biofluorescent bodies.

The Goddess asked for a powerful sorcerer to help fight the kaiju, to destroy them so that Mortal Rim could enter a peaceful allyship.

Rare has other plans.

He knows these animals are just that—animals.

No, he’s not going to kill the kaiju.

He’s going to TAME them.

Three kaiju now face the walker, and Rare begins to cackle with the mad laughter of a mighty wizard.

They are the last in the lineage of a thousand generations of Anti-Mages. The final generation that can trace its roots back to a time before the Destiny Deck System took its hold on Mystix. And they are far more powerful than anyone could possibly give them credit for.

“COME ON, YOU MONSTERS,” Rare screams, grin as wide as can be. “FACE THE TRUE POWER OF SYSTEMLESS MAGIC!”