Complex, magnet-based regimens that required specialized accommodations took several fighters away from the common practice grounds, but the rest stayed and even, at times, sparred against one another. As awkward as it could be when both participants in a fight pretended to be worse than they were to hinder enemy intelligence-gathering, they managed to get something out of it. Dosellian Urapta, in cooperation with Gintus Pelluina, developed a system involving gloves and weapons treated with paint to indicate hit locations and two rows of coconuts adjusted by a referee to represent lifebars. Any simulation more exact would be the thing itself, and within that framework the experts could advise the participants. “Block high! Block mid! Block at all! Don't get hit!” Dosellian needed to tag out for Dennet after screaming all that and more a few too many times, and Coremel relieved Dennet after an even shorter duration. Valuable input.

A few sessions of that revealed to Team Second Push a major difficulty Waltzing Matilda faced, or rather was unable to face. Her battles against Cadmos, the Beruvos, and Bel Felicitous Fasde all ended with not a single inch of her sprawling centaur rump uncovered by paint. Her opponents needed only to jump over her without any worry about distance, since immutable physiology guaranteed there would be more Matilda wherever they went. The other fighters said how sorry they were, and some may have meant it, but they kept doing it.

“I call this meeting to order.” Mentor Tendradius Pux pounded the clubhouse's new Lynissia-brand podium with his gavel.

“Nice gavel.”

“Thank you, Dr. Stezlinstein. Newlywed Quircy threw it at me when I supported mass UTASization. A foolish maneuver. I snatched the object out of the air, kept it, and voted as I intended all along. Youl Sandshaker. Tell us what to do about Waltzing Matilda's protruding fuselage.”

“I blush to say.” She did, too.

“Boxer Andit.”

“Forget about this roll call stuff, Big Pux. I called in an expert.” Andit opened the door, and who was there but Society Page Lasva?

“Boxer Andit! What's your response to allegations that you stuff your glove with crossword puzzles you crumpled up because of how angry you were that you didn't get anywhere in them?”

He shut the door, counted to thirty, and opened it again, and who was there but Coremel? “In ancient times,” that expert declaimed, “before 3D, games there were that added depth to flat stages by dividing them into multiple planes. Take a weekend to play F**** F*** before you argue whether it's a good idea. Anyway, Ersatz Struggle won't have that as a universal mechanic, but it will be a fighting game. You may be able to work in a subtle little rear wiggle, though only a liar can promise anything.”

Waltzing Matilda nodded. “I understand. I will undertake to master the rear wiggle.”

The matter needed no more discussion than that, except for a lot of clarification that the desired outcome was for Waltzing Matilda, and Bel Felicitous Fasde while they were at it, to be able to dodge into the background, not for her to shake her moneymaker on the dance floor. Team Second Push dipped into the funds gained from all those hero shows to construct a killing ground surrounded by automated paintball launchers.

“It looks good, but testing is the proof that gives the lie to the looking.” Dr. Stezlinstein tapped her lips and looked around. “We do have one Rare.”

“We do,” Mentor Tendradius Pux confirmed. The trial run began.

“Woof! I thought I had both a left foot and a right foot, but the results are what they are. Still, I think I dodged most of them.” Clyse grabbed a towel to wipe herself down as a courtesy to the next officer in the gacha in case said new recruit wore a yellow coat covered in multicolored splotches.

Mentor Tendradius Pux and Boxer Andit pored over the results. “More shooters?” Andit suggested.

“And faster.”

Clyse's towel was worn clear through by the time they let the blob of blue and green that once was a Rare off the field so she could find a garden hose or friendly ocean. At last Boxer Andit permitted Waltzing Matilda to test herself against the paintball array.

“It's impossible, and that's what makes it worth doing. Get it?”

“Yes, Andit. I get it.” The entire team had no choice but to admire her dignity and composure as she walked without flinching into the midst of the fury and accepted her drubbing, so complete that never would anyone passing by recognize her unless by process of elimination, and then only if that person had just left a relaxing lunch with Local Fisher and Pocket Button, the only other centaur ladies in the game. Impossible, since that lunch was still going on.

Just as Rome required more than a week in the building, it took hours for Matilda to gain enough agility to waltz her way around one ball per minute on average. She fared better after she gave up on the waltzing, but worse again when Boxer Andit's shouts reminded her the ideal would be avoiding shots to her rear without moving her front. As a counterbalance to that, Coremel suggested she might as well work on her blocking as long as she was at it.

Waltzing Matilda continued her efforts. The rains fell, muddied the ground, and dried up in the summer heat. Orange and yellow leaves drifted by. Snowflakes covered the field and rested a spell before they melted away, as must we all in the end.

“That's the environmental effects for the next stage show all sorted out. The kids will really like these.” Enid Rosebouquet started putting away the fans in boxes for easy transportation while Clyse hunted down each and every precious artificial leaf.

“We'll have to make sure not to work our villain to death for there to be a show. How are you holding up out there?”

Waltzing Matilda turned to Dr. Stezlinstein just as a paintball smacked the side of her face and gave her report. “I believe I have mastered it.”

“That's a powerful claim, so where's the powerful evidence? I don't know that I'd be able to tell how good the evidence . . . what?” Dr. Stezlinstein later recalled that day as being the catalyst for her transformation into a person open to the beauty of limitless possibility. Gaelvry Bride then responded she seemed the same as always to her. But what did Gaelvry know? Who could see that phenomenon and remain unaffected, when Waltzing Matilda vanished and left furious paintballs without a target? Amazement struck all the observers harder than paintballs ever had except for Clyse, who had actually been struck by paintballs. “That's a better timer trick than anything Cadmos has!” Boxer Andit exclaimed.

“Is that what he's up to? Unexpectedly devilish of him. More to the point, I wonder whether she's invisible or absent.” Even as new provisional member Formal Figro hopped over the low barrier around the paintball arena to begin his investigation, the missing Matilda manifested once again.

“I have returned,” she stated.

Youl Sandshaker and Clyse, eager to hear the account of Waltzing Matilda's disappearance, ran around turning off automated pitchers to prevent the sound of endless pummeling from overpowering speech.

She, for her part, watched them do so impassively. “Are we done for the day?”

“Oh, well, I hoped to hear your explanation of what happened, but if we're not doing that.” Clyse turned the paintball pitchers back on, and if that inconvenienced the officers who rushed up to Matilda, they should have thought of that before they decided to dislike being hit by dozens of pellets.

“The explanation is simple. She plane-shifted. Turn those off; she doesn't need them anymore.” Coremel radiated as much pride as he would if he himself had achieved the theorized feat, but only because somebody needed to and Waltzing Matilda seemed incapable of gloating. “I suppose we should find out why that made you invisible, but I honestly do not care.”

“I was not invisible. The other plane is just far away. I saw people shooting one another there. I didn't want to bother them, so I tried to leave. I couldn't because of some toxic clouds that came closer and closer. Then I returned. I hope the people there are all right.”

“Holy tremors that's crazy your traveling to another genre like that could you build stuff or not?”

“Azinsia, I did not attempt to build anything. I am sorry.”

“OK no problem!”

The implications of Matilda's technique, more powerful even than what Magical Menagerie's pigeons could accomplish, staggered Team Second Push. Its members stumbled around, their hands grasping for some support that no one could provide. Mentor Tendradius Pux looked serious while he did all that, which proved he was but partially shaken, much as players when a hyped mobile game at launch seems like it might actually be good but goes down for maintenance forty minutes later as a balance. “I insist we not inform Newlywed Quircy about this. She will wish to reproduce the method and invade other genres.”

“What's wrong with that?”

“I want to do it.”

“Ah. I'll accede to your request then.” Dr. Stezlinstein allowed Tendradius that out of consideration for their shared struggle (+5 bonus).

“We don't need more subjects. We need friends.” Bel Felicitous Fasde clenched his fist. “Friends from fighting games who can give us advice. Clyse, make them shoot me harder.”

“Sure thing.”

Coremel ducked out, saying he preferred not to meet his heroes. Team Second Push then embarked on the boldest voyage yet.