Through the open doorway into the wide lounge room walks Kokei, the curved glossy white walls emitting light as the wide window reveals the supersun to be long gone beneath the black night’s sky that now rests over the expansive forest of mountains, all of them so short in comparison to the mighty Peak. There is still light being brought naturally into the forest and mountain, although only from the reflection cast by the lingering Moon and the dimmer light of the innumerable white stars scattered across the sky amongst the clouds gray and purple.

That isn’t enough however to adequately brighten the lounge room, not for the one who lays down on one of the long white leathery sofas sitting along the wall divided by white tabletops and across another lane of sofas, the two rows separated by a fleet of longer coffee tables, all of them hovering over the white fur carpet that covers the whole lounge. There are also sofas down at the far corner of the room, facing the general direction of the wrinkly old Japanese man of Ekitai who sits upright in noticing the presence, fixing his gaze on her with shimmering yellow eyes of excitement before he shouts to seemingly no one, “She’s here!”

Yet from the far end of the fur floor by the short set of stairs leading to the open doorway the sound of pounding emerges, heavy footsteps in a burst before from that very doorway dashes out Dana, almost throwing herself down the stairs if not for her quick halt with one leg hanging above the staircase and her right foot keeping ground, giving her a free pivot point to swivel such that she faces both Kokei and Ekitai to announce: “Dinner’s ready!”

She then allows herself to unlock, stepping down the staircase into the lounge room as Ekitai whines to Kokei, “Man you took so long,” before then sneering, “Did you get lost again Kookie?”

“Some of us have something called a ‘job,” sneers back Kokei before doubling down, “maybe you should look into it,” with a wink as she passes him on her way towards Dana, dressed again in her comfortable cupcake hoodie, her long pink hair a mess with poking strands as a result from the stressful day of production.

“Wait a minute,” suspends Dana the same with her movement in front of Kokei, raising her finger up curiously as she glances around the room with a contemplative gaze before arriving to the epiphany, “Where’s Meditat?”

“Not where the food’s at but that’s where I’m heading,” decides Ekitai before he begins strolling to the doorway that Dana came from, stretching his arms and yawning exhaustedly despite him having done the least labor of the day, or at least in the traditional sense of an occupation.

Only Dana and Kokei are left in the lounge facing each other perplexed from the question as only Ekitai seemed callous to the absence, Kokei glancing back and reporting with an apprehensive tone, “I…don’t think I saw him today…I don’t know. Maybe call him?”

Releasing a fatigued sigh and lowering her head, Dana raises it back up and agrees, “Probably for the best, especially since there might not be much dinner left by the time he’s here,” after which she raises her hand up thereby projecting a green flat screen with the icon of a classic telephone above a portrait image of the former CEO youthful despite being an adult even at the time, or perhaps that youth stems from the bright white smile that permeates a gleeful aura shining like his azure eyes.

The telephone icon vibrates in an animation to signify an attempt to call, an animation that repeats without change as Dana sighs again and glances over to the wide window screen while contemplating, “Where is he now…?”

That window screen exhibits the view of the great endless forest from its highest point, a point that from outside is bombarded by the high winds of altitude roaring like a thunderstorm over the sierras and ranges of green mountaintops.

Far from the forest’s heart and well below its grand crown are the many more peaks just lower, ranges that bump up and down at different points, and even below that there are shorter mountains some of them just appended to the ends of the ranges, but even below that there is the forest’s base level although covered about entirely with trees of different shades of green, trees that while from a distance appear like small oak trees are in fact rather large as they’re more akin to redwood trees with their towering heights and thick trunks.

Unlike redwood trees however they are much thicker in leaves, instead blooming in large leaves like that of a rainforest forming an umbrella over the true ground, an umbrella surplus in layers that only unravel gently by the nightly breeze, leaves pushed aside with ease but the branches holding them stronger and less willing to be swayed.

Below it all is ultimately the forest floor green too but from the thick grass that populates the woodlands well, the dirt seemingly just in patches instead as they hardly are exposed. Branches, twigs and roots are also sitting on the ground motionless, the only source of motion in fact being the man strolling in a straight line, his black cape waving in the breeze same as his similarly colored hair.

Still dressed in the blue suit he is, the streaks coursing through his body from the pencil insignia, the golden pauldrons shimmering from the rays of moonlight that manage to bleed through the umbrella, shimmering like his azure eyes sitting on a melancholic face with a frown fully exposed for his black bangs are pushed back by the wind.

Aimlessly the man walks and at the same pace too, every now and then stepping on another twig which causes it to snap as alert of his presence, although unattentive he is to those sounds that echo throughout the otherwise silent forest.

Those snaps are near silent however compared to the suddenly intrusive British male voice that alerts, “Dana is requesting a call with you sir, the three appear to be awaiting your presence for dinner. Shall I receive it?”

Not slowing down but his attention now grabbed, Meditat glances to the side and orders the rejection: “Don’t, I’ll go back later. They’ll go on without me, I have no need to attend meals regardless.”

“If you insist, sir,” bluntly acknowledges Orial, and gone is the conversation speedily, leaving Meditat back to his own thoughts as he wanders the forest with his arms by his side and his gaze facing straight forward without much shifting.

Compared to the man the trees are colossal, not the scale of skyscrapers exactly but grandiose nonetheless, magnitudes thicker than him as in fact several people of his stature could easily be hidden behind them, for the trees create walls that inhibit clarity of the forest, an inhibition that nonetheless doesn’t seem to warrant too much caution from him.

Instead he’s just not too focused on the forest at all, not on the forest, not on the world. He’s instead in one of his own, just roaming freely without destination, without direction, just moving in the simple direction his feet have chosen with total obedience.

Over twigs and the few dirt patches scattered across the green forest the man treks, his blue eyes forward past the towering trees, the darkness of the night lacking generosity for luminescence, only sparing the dimmed moonlight that can pass through the fortress of filters above, for the forest itself lacks the adequate lighting needed for proper sight. In truth the man nearly walks blind, walking in the dark alone, strolling down the green grass in his blue armor.

Different from when he walked down the forest lit up by the white sky, the treebark a more vibrant shade akin to gold and with curvier trunks built in a wave like the leaves rustling with the wind. Peaceful it was then too, the only sound being the wind and leaves above the passive majestic hum that resonated from the air itself as though every air molecule contained a mystical energy.

But that wasn’t the forest the man walks in now, this forest is dark and without that hum, this forest’s white light is scarce instead almost to the point of nonexistence for the blue streaks of the suit have a measurable impact on the environment’s luminosity.

Trivial is the man’s trajectory as it’s just the line he’s been moving down for hours now, the trees he’d approach soon lined up for him, tall and thick but with a darkened shade not helped by the minimal light that helped conceal the silhouette on the other side of one of the trunks.

Different it was from the forest where those golden curvy trees had no issue being properly illuminated as the white light of the sky was adequate in delivering the radiance needed for educated traversal that aided the man making his way forward, the blue suit almost glowing too from the light, especially the golden pauldrons that bask in the perfect tones.

But now there are no tones to touch the golden pauldrons, and the suit while the same shade of fabrics appears darker without the same brilliance to touch it up, only one ray across his body now before he walks away from it in seconds past, leaving it dark again as even the blue streaks are rather dim thus not providing the most useful of lights, but it’s enough to disprove the presence of any lingering figures.

Littered twigs sit on the green grass and dirt chunks, facing up at the lofty trees whose thick green leaves leave little for the sky to be visible especially from the ground, only glimmers that the light bleeds through. Those leaves sway in the breeze subtly, the wind not particularly powerful at this time especially without any altitude to amplify it, as the branches are nearly still with only the thinnest one seeing any observable movement.

Different it was from the substantially thinner trees, whether it be due to their dispersal or the individual contraction of density in the leaves, as from the ground facing up the sunless white sky could be seen, a sky without clouds yet a perceivable movement, as the sky itself appeared to waver like an ocean, as there even were patterns resembling caustics in the white streaks that seemed to be the source of the light.

Although lackluster in having such an apparent atmosphere is the nightly forest snapped back to like the snapping of the twig under the black boot, crushing it in two and left on the ground without consideration given that the boot just lifts up and keeps moving forward.

Unfazed but rather in a daze the man just follows forward, his expression neutral with no stimulus to engage him in his reality, nothing to ground him back to his body that just mindlessly follows simple programming to pick up each foot one another the other.

Nothing changes his expression, his relaxed body, his casual pace, his calm heartbeat that like the streaks around his body show no extreme pulsations.

Nothing but the Devil on the other side of the passing tree whose crimson glare was already locked on him, and in an instant upon being spotted the man’s serene face contorts with a sharpened glare of his own that he shoots back with a swivel towards the crimson figure against the tree.

Just like the blue that courses throughout the azure fabrics, the red pours down the crimson scales, dripping down from the eraser insignia on the center of the chest that all the branches pour from, including the ones down the arms beside the dark silver pauldron and gauntlet, the branches running beneath the triplet of chains wrapped around the forearms.

Similar chains wrap around the neck too, the edge of the armor as the black hood is strangely let down to reveal the true monster’s face, that red glare being without filter but rather that from the stars radiating in the red void. Disheveled is the being’s long black hair, strands lingering between the eyes and the side of the face.

“I was waiting for you to be secluded,” exposes the demon whose voice while unfiltered is still discomforting in nature, the tone low like a stalker, his words almost on the verge of being slurred but just not enough.

From a loosened stance to one now tense with closed fists and a back hunched just subtly forward, one foot drawn back already prepared for combat the instant the presence was detected, the Spirit’s azure eyes flare up as the Devil just idles in his forest, the dark metallic braces reflecting no light around the shin of the silver boot, the jagged soles sunk into the ground like cleats.

“What do you want?” aggressively demands the man with teeth shown, his demeanor fully reversed.

Although when the silver boot steps forward, the man steps backwards nearly in a stumble, clearly wary of any movements.

Only one step up away from the tree, the crimson demon maintains its stare straight as it omens, “Something is coming for you, something stronger than you. I don’t know what exactly it seeks but soon very soon it will lure you out for its purpose,” a message spoken in that creepy voice although the contents itself isn’t directly hostile.

Nonetheless the azure wanderer shakes his head as the blue streaks across his body pulsate like a heartbeat and he interrogates more harshly, “What are you trying to do here, is this some sort of threat? Is this some sort of deception? What are you-, wait!”

From anger to a sharp panic, he turns his head around to face the direction of the Peak in a horrified gaze, dread pouring into him from the details of the situation as the devil raises his hand and begins to explain, “Listen to me, I-.”

“You’re back to try again, aren’t you,” interjects the Spirit as he slowly turns back to face the intruder, his stare now a mixture of the dread and anger, resulting in a severely hauntingly furious face worn as he accuses, “After my return you come back to the fortress of my old team that YOU killed, and now you’re isolating me from them. This is some sick game isn’t it…you’re going to try taking these people away from me too now aren’t you…like you did to them.”

In a flash the demon’s world flickers red as his eyes flare up and the crimson streaks pulsate, although he shakes his head resistively and again clarifies, “No, you don’t understand-.”

“No, I don’t understand,” again the spirit cuts off as he begins pacing backwards to create distance, shaking his head and elaborating in a voice somehow both lucid yet simultaneously letting rage bleed through, “I don’t understand anything that’s going on. I don’t understand why ten years flashed in a second. I don’t understand how for those ten years there was someone else in my shoes, someone I somehow created.”

Again the devil’s world flashes red as distorted silhouettes glitch afterimages beside the man who throws his arms up as he continues, “I don’t understand how all the sudden everything’s changed, how a whole war happened in that time, how these people I’ve never met just invite themselves wherever I go, how I’m now all the sudden out of my job, how the Superverse thinks I died ten years ago but recently was told I was alive by someone else. I don’t understand any of it, you’re right, I won’t lie to cover myself up.”

Wincing in agitation as more violently the world reddens, red glitches of silhouette afterimages distorting beside it too, the devil grits its teeth, those stars flickering more intensely, the reds bleeding out of his edges.

Now starting to pace towards the Devil all the sudden, the Spirit more boldly proclaims: “But of all that has happened, there was one thing that didn’t confuse me: You. The brutality you caused. Your hunt for them the second you found someone with my name still alive and with company.”

“Stop it,” demands the Devil whose claws sharpen as his world further perverts, flashes of the mask covering his face before stretching out, the afterimages of the figures glitching in again and out, all of them in the shape stature and stance as him, all of them resisting.

Closer the Spirit moves, throwing his finger at the Devil and shaming, “The lives you robbed, the suffering you put them in, all in your quest to torture him. To hurt him. Until he had no other choice but to forfeit his own life just for your own pleasures.”

“I’mtryingtohelpyou,” begs the crimson man, his claws being raised to his temples in his battle against the Reddening slowly consuming him, the afterimages next to him becoming bolder, slowly sliding towards him from both sides.

In heavy steps now instilled with the confidence birthed from vengeful rage, the blue figure advances relentlessly as the afterimages from both sides slide towards him too, afterimages of his figure although ones that constantly obscure between that and the figure of the teenage boy, slowly moving towards the man in the middle who roars, “That, that is the ONE thing that has made sense out of EVERYTHING that has happened in the last ten years,” as the afterimages finally merge into the body of the blue being, causing its malfunctions to intensify as the figure’s body constantly swaps between a flurry of different beings including the Man in the White Blazer, the Boy in the White Shirt, and itself, all of them blending into one monster.

“WhydidItrytohelpyou?”

Simultaneously at that very moment the two afterimages on both sides merge into the crimson man.

“WhatwasIthinking?”

Its whole body flashes a powerful crimson, one whose third arm grabs the back of the hood.

“Don’tforgetwhoyouare.”

Tightly gripping the end of the hood, the crimson claw throws it over its head as the Calibration completes, and the Reddening vanishes to reveal The Devil now standing with flaring crimson lenses behind the black mask, the jagged cape waving more chaotically in the uptake of the breeze as he bellows in the demonic voice through the wide crimson smile, “THEN I WILL ERASE YOU TOO!!”

Raising both of his arms back, crimson flames secrete from each hand with each burst materializing into a viking axe, both of them next being thrown straight for the target.

Both of the spinning viking axes soar right for the Spirit who leaps backwards with an angled blue burst that launches him upwards to narrowly dodge the axes, tossing him in the air to snatch the back of his black hood, those azure stars blazing in rage beneath gritted teeth before being overlaid by the infestation of blue streaks crawling over his face like webs where in between materializes the white plates of the mask, although those eyes are hidden behind the parallelogram visors that shine blue same as the streaks that rise up the eyes and continue over the hood similar to the streak that crawls down the side of his face over his mouth.

Glaring through those visors with now both of the faces cloaked by their facades, the red and blue warriors exchange glances, the chainmail fabric cape waving in the air same with the back of the hood right as a translucent blue cable projects from the blue warrior’s hand extended out, swiftly dragging him away to which the red warrior projects his own translucent red chain in the same direction thereby throwing himself in pursuit.

High up in the sky even above the titanic white Peak looming over all the many other ranges is the starry night colored in hues of purple and blues from the cosmic clouds not to be confused with the darker clouds that do loom over thus partially obscuring the view. Still there is adequate sight of the atmosphere beyond the world, the glitter of stars twinkling amongst the vastly larger Moon whose craters and mountains can be seen even from so far away.

The Moon stares down on the endless forest too, on all of the mountains of all sizes whether it be the one with the snowy peak or even the shorter ones merged in sierras and ranges that form rings and arcs over the landscape primarily green from what so high up appears to be grass, although upon a more intimate inspection it’s in fact trees, many of them completely infesting the woodland’s surface.

Below every mountain top and cliff is the base floor, but that floor has multiple layers of its own as the density of the trees form an umbrella of leaves almost completely sheltering the true ground from any of the upper layers.

Simultaneously however the umbrella also conceals the ground from those layers, as from above them it wouldn’t be seen the blue and red streaks bolting across the greenwoods in roars, sparking strands onto the deceptively large trees.

The two streaks are not in parallel but rather the red is behind the blue, or more specifically the heads of those tails are not caught up to each other, more particularly the Crimson Devil relentlessly chases with translucent red chains emitting from his hands to grapple on the trees in pursuit of the Azure Spirit who races onward with translucent blue cables projecting from his hips, both of them pushed further by the continuous bursts forming the tails.

Although now the Blue Spirit doesn’t move in a straight line, but rather makes consistent sharp turns, as every tree marked by his cable opens the opportunity for rotation which he takes constantly, thwarting the demon behind who struggles to reach his prey.

Yet after a certainly sharp turn, the Devil follows through to find the Spirit spun the other way in completion of a throwing motion that bursts a blue flame that births a flurry of spinning disks that flash blue upon the Devil’s natural approach before exploding in a small energy blast that’s just narrowly avoided by the manifestation of a metallic orb encapsulating him through the fiery output, able to fizzle out once he passes the blast zone where he takes no delay to project four cables two from each open hand providing him greater elasticity that he can spring himself from to try closing the gap made more difficult from the streams pushed out of the Spirit onto the neighboring trees which leaves behind the manifestation of sentry turrets attached to the bark but freely rotating as the gun itself hovers just above the base, able to aim at the Devil and each fire a rapid barrage of blue bolts which is countered by a quick burst dive concurrent with the birth of crimson flames that shoot up and sprout into missiles each equipped with projected crimson red energy shielding over the nose that protects itself as it soars straight into the turrets, exploding them all with great booms.

All the way to the lobby the reverberations reach from the slight jittering of the coffee table which is quickly picked up by the puzzled Dana standing by the staircase to the kitchen ready to give up on waiting.

Yet just before continuing on with serving the food she instead calmly strolls to that very coffee table as the quakes cease, letting it sit still again, but that short disturbance is enough to warrant concern from her face as she glances around for a potential source to the phenomenon.

However there is nobody else in the lobby at this time, and all she can see besides the many empty sofas and tables is just the window screen to the serene forest at night, no visible anomalies coming from it.

Still skeptical, Dana just holds her gaze until the emergence of Kokei from the kitchen doorway, popping her head in puzzled at first before smiling to the delight of the noticed presence before she asks blissfully, “Everything okay Dana?”

Keen her eyes are and yet there lacks any trail to follow so instead Dana just nods her head and turns around while assuring, “Yes it’s just…never mind let’s go,” as she follows her prior path up the stairs towards the hungry friend.

There is in fact valid call for concern, as in that forest she had glanced at the two streaks chase one another, the Devil perhaps somewhat staggered by the abrupt retaliation of the turrets but able to fire out three chains with each hand and jerk his arms with all his might to slingshot himself even further, the boost helping him close distance efficiently as in under a second he’s able to get the range needed to make effective use of the axe he creates for his right hand, swinging it point blank at the Spirit who spins around with the crossing of his own right hand which projects a blue flame that creates a frisbee-shaped metal shield that the axe cuts into instead, although the shield is not merely sculpted metal as with the throwing of his hand the Spirit commands the shield to dash the other way, carrying the Devil backwards and furthering his distance which calls for a speedy dissolving of his axe to rid of what had become a hindrance before attaching another red chain to continue movement, a brief setback but one capitalized on even more by the Spirit who tosses the previously used kunai baton with the ring on the other side of the handle, but rather than aiming at the Devil exactly it is instead thrown at the red chain, the blue tip of the baton piercing through the support rope such that it slashes it in half, detaching the Devil which causes him to lose his recovery and drop more altitude.

The instant strike staggers the Devil, his recovery paused from the bewilderment of the action, only able to return his mind to the current situation in time when he’s nearly about to collapse on the ground, thus swiftly he projects two thicker red chains one from each hand that he grips tightly to as his silver boots land on the ground given the suboptimal altitude, the jagged soles ripping apart the grass and leaving trails of dirt as the Devil growls irritated, his thighs in a squat to oddly further lower him more and his arms clenched in a curl which may at first appear to further draw him to the ground but is in fact a stance used to maximize the springing action he follows with when he soars off the dirt back up to the trees in another slingshot, following up with rapid zips with quick hands aided by pushing bursts adequate enough to bring him to the Spirit enough for him to grab the blue body under the arms which staggers him from shock, unable to resist as the crimson demon continues all the way up to the umbrella of leaves, the two pushing against the countless thick leaves and snapping many branches some thin but others much thicker causing grunts, the density of the layer like clouds being passed in liftoff, but clouds that are eventually surpassed as the two bolt out of the umbrella and high up in the open space with the cosmos in the backdrop.

While at first the Spirit was helpless against the forceful displacement, a precise blaze bursting from the back of the hooded head forming a sharp knife straight for the Devil’s forehead is enough to warrant a detachment as the demon does a whole flip boosted by red tails that lets him effectively kick the knife away in time for him to reorient himself such that he can throw his right arm forward, all of the chains wrapped around the forearm and knuckles flaring up red before igniting in flames countered by the frosty crystal knuckles of the Spirit’s own hand protecting its white mask, dispersing the energy in a purplish wave of exhaust that reappears in the second throw by the other arm also flaming hot but also blocked by the other clenched fist before the Spirit throws his own for the throat which is caught in the forearm chains of the demon who uses the opportunity to counter with his own strike although intercepted by a flexible kick from the crystal shin that triggers an agonized growl that feeds into an aggressive roar for another punch but not before a cable is attached to his chest one from the combatant’s left hand which lets him jerk its arm in the motion of dropping the shoulder such that he thrusts his shoulder blade straight into the crimson scales, the pencil sculpted crystal igniting from overwhelming exertion that throws the demon far back in a spin; instantly next the azure warrior thrashes his arms backwards with both hands pouring three streams of flames about ten feet back which then shape orthogonally to create the cylindrical bodies with cone noses of missiles that after materialization are thrown forth with the summoner’s arms but more so by the ignition of their own blue tails that let them fly straight for the single target who in noticing the followup counters with his own open hands bursting out a great single crimson blaze that opens up like a cone whose end separates into a flurry of javelins vastly more numerous albeit thinner, but javelins of metal with tips that flicker red in denotion of technological integration and ones not thrown by human hands but instead by their own rocketing energy leaving red trails.

In between the two freefalling fighters radiating in the backdrop of the cosmos the flurries of missiles and javelins make contact, explosive contact that fume purple clouds like the ones amongst the stars albeit with an audible roar that expands omnidirectionally.

More violently the table tremors, specifically the long white dining table, the surface holding the transparent cup filled halfway with water that ripples and shakes like the white sleeved arm connected to the hand with pink-painted nails holding the fork over the plate populated with long yellow strands of spaghetti reddened with the margarita sauce spread evenly similar to the white parmesan cheese sprinkled throughout, the pasta occupying most of the plate although with thick green broccoli on the side dense like the trees but collapsed on their side rather than upright.

Initially the fork is lowered to the plate, but after the tremors the hand revolts back a nudge before freezing, the one holding it being Kokei who turns her head to the side with bewilderment before asking anxiously, “Did you guys hear that?”

Across the table past the long gray integrated plate where sits the rounded metal bowl holding the additional spaghetti sits Dana on the same white chair who also glances to the same direction with a sharpened gaze more in reservation, analyzing but in a more cautious tone: “That came from the forest.”

Next to Kokei on another white chair resides Ekitai who unlike the other two is currently in the process of consuming a roll of spaghetti that he accumulated on his fork, margarita sauce on his face. He chews on the spaghetti for a couple seconds before swallowing and taking his own glass of water for a sip to help easy passage. After placing the cup back next to his plate scarce in spaghetti he gazes instead to Dana and casually wonders, “Does this part get a lot of earthquakes? That’s kind of unfortunate.”

However sliding the chair back away from the table to gain the space needed to stand up from her spot, Dana shakes her head and explains, “That’s not an earthquake, wait give me a minute,” before she then hurries out in the direction of the exit which Kokei does too after sliding her own seat back and standing up.

Being abandoned in seconds while still trying to focus on his meal, Ekitai relieves an exhausted sigh and returns his stare to the plate, maintaining it in silence for a few seconds.

Then after an exaggerated groan of annoyance he exclaims, “God dammit now I have to go don’t I,” as he pushes his chair back and throws himself to his feet, jogging behind yet already the last in the room.

Exiting the dining room into the kitchen before taking a turn to the adjacent wall where the next doorway is, Dana huffs with keen eyes as beside her Kokei follows, not remaining in the kitchen for very long as they pass through the next doorway and down the stairs to which Dana’s eyes instantly widen in shock, Kokei’s too with her jaw lowering, the white light of the lounge room being bled in with blues, reds, and purples creeping up to them.

Lastly Ekitai runs down the staircase and catches up to them, panting exhausted as he got winded rather easily, taking him an additional moment to focus on the same sight as the other two, the sight right in front of them showcased on the wide window screen that being the distant explosions of blues and reds appearing from seemingly nowhere up in the sky.

The colors flash into the lounge, vanishing before another appears at random intervals and quantities, as the window screen itself lacked enough definition to give proper detail on the sources.

Though naked sight through the screen is insufficient, such limitations aren’t as fixed for Dana whose pupils flash golden before the strands spread out and form rings in her green irises, her eyes sharpening more in a peculiar glare as she takes a few steps forwards despite such action having negligible effect.

But through her golden tinted vision there is a vastly improved range as she focuses far from the point of the window, able to zoom her sight to such extent that the booms are substantially larger, but more importantly the two beings can be seen in the night sky, the one in the blue and gold suit whose goggles through the white mask soars in the air reeling from the blue cable gripped in his right hand which leads to the being in the red and silver suit whose goggles through the black mask thrashes his hand at the other which expels a red flame that autonomously redefines its own shape into a long metal spear about ten feet long which is shot straight for the one in blue who detaches the cable to burst up in order to narrowly avoid the spear, but specifically the tip as he grounds his black boot on the pole and sprints a couple steps before kicking off in order to throw himself with his arm back, the frosty crystal knuckles flaring up same as the chains around the forearms of the target who prepares to counter.

From skeptical to horrified, Dana’s golden lenses recoil back into her pupil as she mutters, “He’s here…,” which triggers Ekitai to ask nonchalantly, “Who is,” yet without answer as Dana instead dashes off down towards the exit of the lounge, causing Ekitai to groan again with the raising of his head in the silent order to keep running, one Kokei obliges to as she turns around and makes chase.

Taking in one deep breath, Ekitai musters up the strength to turn around and sprint in pursuit of the two too, running down the white lounge room along the stretched holographic pane, the one streaming the battle in the sky even if from afar, although that segment lasts for not much longer as the Azure Spirit makes contact, but rather than just throwing a punch with his frosty knuckles as choreographed he additionally wraps his entire forearm with blue flames that build a substantially larger metallic gauntlet almost double the width of his forearm, one with vents along the sides of the slightly blue shell and a closed fist with knuckles that have strange black panels on them, panels that begin to brighten blue same as the vents and reach their climax when the knuckles meet the blocking arms of the unsuspecting opponent, the strike emitting an intense blue explosion that blasts the enemy straight down from the air which the striker follows up with relinquishing the gauntlet and using the open hand to project another cable onto the falling demon.

In a jerking motion the man in blue divebombs straight into the disoriented combatant, grabbing both of the shoulders as the two plummet straight into the tilted umbrella of leaves, falling through the rustling thick pads and cracking more branches along the way, all down the many layers of the forest’s atmosphere until reaching the ground level once more, nearly about to make full landing if not for the abrupt red explosion from the forearms that blasts the Spirit off, creating distance which the Devil uses to begin racing away with translucent red chains expelled from his arms as he swings between the tall trees no longer leveled as instead it’s at a noticeable incline, given only a brief headstart as a single blue burst suspends the Spirit’s momentum like an air brake, allowing him to then throw both arms forward each hand projecting a cable same as each hip, all four functioning as rubber bands to thrust him in pursuit of the runaway intruder; distant but not by a safe amount the chaser capitalizes by focusing on projecting cables from the hips, freeing his hands to make throwing motions in order to coordinate more azure flames that can form huge forks with two prongs that blast with ignition of their own, forks that are parried with constructs made of crimson blaze by the right hand of the demon while the left is used for navigation, that construct being an oversized glaive also boosting on its own the other way, aimed perfectly in between the two prongs such that the subtle contact they make trigger the great purple explosion, one that swarms an expansive region and one that seemingly consumes the chaser too, leaving only the crimson beast still swinging away narrowly evading the edge of the wave.

Quiet for just a moment now over flatter ground, the demon’s heavy breathing can be heard filtered through the mask, making minor jolting motions in desire to gaze the other way but holding steady a focus ahead as now it seeks distance, the crimson lenses devoid of any emotion but there being a sense of reluctance and even perhaps panic given the hyperventilation.

Such panic isn’t unwarranted per se, as from the purple blast bolts out a blue comet that in an instant soars right past the demon, the power of the speed causing a spin on the chain that requires it to be switched out for another but more importantly for the demon to fix their focus on the comet that races far down the woodlands past strangely enough.

But there is intent behind the maneuver, as the blue comet rapidly dissipates to reveal the Spirit who spins in the air, suspending all their momentum and instead swapping it for another source as blue flames secrete from his body and down below his feet, creating a blue cloud that then shapes into a whole pod materialized with a sleek white wrap on a sporty shell, a pod not only built but functional as it immediately begins driving the other way with the roar of the engine pronounced the moment of its conception, carrying its creator but not within the traditional interior but rather while he stands on the roof, riding it instead.

Noticing the invitation from afar, the Devil yanks on his current chain to throw himself higher up before blasting his own flames below forming his own black sports pod of a similar model although with a larger body and more rounded edges, not exactly a Sedan but something more robust. Riding the pod’s roof, the Devil bends his knees to plant himself with better stability, glaring straight back with those crimson specs.

Moving the opposite direction, the Spirit also bends his knees, but on top of that he holds his hand out which secretes a blue blaze that then shapes into a long lance vastly longer than himself, one that he makes a stance with by pointing it forwards.

To the wager the Devil emits his own crimson flame in his right hand, birthing his own lance that he grips with both hands, aiming it forwards, taking one step closer to the head of the pod in anticipation.

Brighter the azure lenses become as the Spirit also takes one step closer to the roof’s edge, clenching the lance, ready to joust.

Blazing the crimson goggles become as the Devil holds his position, waiting, for while they are only seconds from contact, the moment feels to last an eternity of patience.

On opposite ends the two pods drive and in opposite directions, black and white, blue and red, and upon the point of convergence the two warriors clash lances, each parrying the other with neither truly losing as the clash protects them each, a draw disallowed by the move on the blue jouster who with all his might in just an instant drives his lance down even against the weight of his opponent’s, down into the black pod’s shell piercing through the metal, just enough to make worth of the alerting beep coming from his tip.

From a move so quick the lance thus black pod suddenly explodes, consuming both pods in the open orange flame that spreads over several trees.

At the end of the pod by the edge of the space the black pod entered from exits out both of the two combatants, locked in an upward heated scuffle with the one in blue moving in the direction of their body while the one in red moves backwards, the two grappling at each other with the blue’s hands grabbing at the red’s, the red’s trying to fight back until finally successfully kicking the opponent back off him although just as the blue manages to pull off the black hood thus causing the black mask to melt into a black goo that crawls away back inside the hood away from the face, exposing the human skin, the long messy black hair, and the bright stars in the crimson voids of the irises that glare widely as quickly the oppressive Spirit attaches a cable to his chest for a speedy zip concurrent with the small burst of blue flames around his hands in order to initiate a flurry of punches enhanced with golden energy blasts on impact from the low profile weapon resembling brass knuckles worn over the frosty crystals to execute several strikes that while blocked by a riot shield with sharp edges summoned by red fire does manage to push the red fighter further back, giving more distance for the knuckles to be extinguished and swapped out for a pair of long katana blades but ones made of a plasmic blue energy scathing to the touch and used to slash at the one who parries with his own blades although with their own unique function as while the metal core blade itself is not too threatening due to its rounded blunt end, the red energy chains strapped along the edges revved up at once as dual chainsaws does successfully block the plasmic blades, not just the first strike but the several made in quick succession before they’re hotswapped again for a single metal longsword, but one whose blade is just as wide and tall as him, gripped by a solid handle that had a wider rim to support the long edge, one that would appear heavily weighted and clearly does seem to be given both hands are used on the handle and that there’s noticeable exertion just to wield it, but it’s still usable enough to be brought down in its overwhelming oppression perplexing even to its target who in the heat of the moment can only manifest two viking axes to block with, although it’s no question that they lack the power necessary to withstand the strike, as while the axes do at least protect from the blade’s sharpness itself it does not prevent the knockback of the sheer force from the slam, one that tosses the red demon back at an angle such that he crashes straight into a stone wall along a slope, rocks being flung out instantly with the smoke as a crater opens in the center, the force so great that the carved crater grounds the projectile in the wall.

Hastily the Devil recovers with a single red burst from the back to regain footing in a rotation around the foot around and out the crater with just the most faint grazing of the jagged stone interior, the jagged cape waving from the sudden force pushed straight through it but calming slightly in only seconds past, same with the long hair now sitting out. Scuff marks and bruises already show on the face, an exposed weakpoint opened now.

Reversion is impossible as recovery lacks any idle time given right beside him charges the Spirit, projecting an innumerable cast of blue cables over several trees like a great web, one that accumulates an obscenely excess potential spring energy that all at once is transferred kinetically as he’s thrust forward at about bullet speed, so fast his strike isn’t even perceived and only felt across the face as the Devil is flung further back along the stone wall and into one of the trees, colliding with such force that not only does the ground tremor but rain begins to pour, not in the form of water but instead of branches collapsing from above, branches that the Devil hastily evades in a moment of disorientation while in front of him the Spirit unleashes two great fiery streams that curve around to form one arc beside him, the streams detaching to form their own silver turrets all made with a separate base and gun detached just slightly, five on each side and all of them instantly swiveling to aim at the one target who notices quick and extends his arms out at an obtuse angle to fire blazes just as the turrets all unleash barrages.

Those blue bolts fired at such intense rates are however caught by the sheet made of red laser energy being generated by two tall poles at the ends, poles that hover stationary at first but then suddenly dash straight for the turrets and their summoner, the latter of whom leaps up with a burst just in time as the laser wall completely melts through all the turrets, only missing the main target by a few feet who in retaliation draws his arm back with the swivel of his torso as his hand opens for his palm to unleash a blue flame that shapes into a long rod that grows three prongs at the head in the shape of a mighty trident, one that crystallizes with an appropriately gold body but one that strangely ignites with its own blue rocket fuel, giving the push against the grasp of the wielder before he throws it with all his strength, the fuel accelerating it even more in the air at the demon who leaps backwards with an upwards angled burst smartly so as the trident upon collision with the ground explodes.

At first there’s a moment of perceived safety as the Crimson Devil flies backwards away from the explosion with no sight of the opponent, although through that explosion at the head of a propulsive blue comet launches the Azure Spirit, reaching his right hand out augmented with a gauntlet that has sharpened claws, grabbing at the runaway demon’s ankle and piercing the legs before raising his left hand also empowered by the claws to pierce up the shin in an attempt to crawl up the body to which after an agonized growl the crimson man desperately kicks the white mask to launch himself further ahead, swinging across the trees with more red chains higher up the mountain slope as behind him the Spirit recovers their fall with a cable zip of their own to land on the side of a tree before then dashing with another zip to the next in front within a fraction of a second and throwing a fire that itself throws a barrage of daggers that all are dodged narrowly by a sharply turned swing but are rebounded with another zip to the next tree towards his target in only a blue blur, every tree landed marking another vantage point where he deploys a blaze to send another projectile strike whether it next be a handful of small orbs that explode, two balls connected to a chain like a bola the chain almost reaching the silver neck if it weren’t for a downward evasion before a right strafe into another lane of trees to avoid the flying knives which even more aggressively fire a rapid stream of blue bolts from their tip, and whilst the runaway does manage to evade this all it is at the cost of speed that the pursuer climbs up until eventually making the distance to again tackle the runner to which they begin spinning forward in another grappling match, exchanging punches point blank to the face, flying straight through branches that get ripped in halves by impact as every second spent in the tussle moves them closer to the inclining ground until the crimson man tugs the chainmail hood off and blasts a red flame back to one of the passed trees which forms a cannon that then fires a hook connected by a cable that jabs straight into the black boot foot, yanking the chaser away as gleaming blue cracks crawl over the white mask before the entire mask evaporates into a dispersing light.

But in not only a second after being ripped away the exposed chaser manifests a large scythe with a vibrating blade that produces a sound akin to helicopters, using it to slice through the cable before then boosting forward and projecting an immense array of cables from all over the front of his body no longer with the elegant accuracy as prior in order to fling himself as fast as he can to swing the scythe at the red intruder who attempts to dodge and mostly succeeds but for the slit made to the face which causes the anxious pain to trigger another crimson burst this one vastly more spread from the palm and in fact spreading so much that they reach between multiple trees in the aisle before materializing into a large net of a metallic rope that surges with red electric sparks charged for its prey only for it to be slashed through by the scythe thus cutting open a breach for the chaser to pass through unharmed albeit at a momentum loss, providing just enough difference for the runner to move his focus ahead purely for escape, zipping in bursts before realizing that forth down the forest is a visible end, as the trees do not extend forever.

But in that brief glimpse away regardless of the glance back, the Spirit already accumulated the momentum to in the very same instant of being perceived reach the intruder, rage now visible on his face including his blazing eyes, his open right hand around the silver neck in a choke and his left hand aimed down ahead at the ground projecting a blue cable; he jerks his left arm back forcefully reeling himself to the ground but this time timing the impact with the slamming of the demon who crashes into the enormous stone floor of the exposed cliff past the trees, fractured rocks being flung out with a grunt, the two again on the floor but this time with one on top, a final decisive blow made confirmed as the blue warrior holds onto the intruder with both hands before raising the body up and with a propulsive accelerated burst slamming him back into the ground at such power that it slightly craters him deeper into the cracking floor, causing him to again grunt in pain, the illusive veil of the dense forest’s trees no longer able to make an effect as behind them is the vast open black sky, the looming white Moon beside them.

About the same time high up above the green clouds coming from the snowy mountain is a distant entity with visible tendrils soaring over the landscape with a faint golden glow for its propulsive energy.

From afar it’s almost creepy, perhaps the organic bending of the tendrils that makes it seem extraterrestrial or the lack of lighting to properly glimpse at what the moving object is.

Closer up some of the discomforts are resolved as it’s revealed the tendrils are the golden tentacles extending from the back of Dana dressed in her black blazer and leggings although with her shins down to her feet in her golden metal form such that her feet can propel her in the air for a passive flight. Her amber bangs wave in the high winds although parted to the side as to not inhibit reconnaissance.

She glances around through her green eyes enhanced by golden rings, searching while beside her those two tentacles wrap comfortably around the waists of Kokei and Ekitai the former of whom’s long pink hair is more violently thrashing around in the wind, although Kokei expresses some inherent anxiety from their altitude given her fixation of the ground right below whilst Ekitai is indifferent, just gazing around curiously.

While neither of their gazes are really in analysis of any particular objective, or at least not in one that would realistically succeed, Dana locks her sight at one particular angle and notes: “There.”

Specifically she gazes down at one of the nearby mountain ranges jutting from the woodlands floor, and in confirmation of her suspicions several booms are audible from near the top of the range, muffled by the leaves but still reachable. In fact even from closer there are noticeable flashes of lights even if dim and brief, light managing to pass through the thick leaves substantially due to the inherent darkness of the environment.

Observing the range more keenly with rings that noticeably spin slowly and slightly shrink like the lens of a traditional camera, Dana’s expression is far more stern, a paramount objective on her mind that leaves no room for doubt, reporting in a steely tone: “I’ll keep us some distance for safety.”

Oppositional to that boldness especially after comprehending the plan, Kokei frowns in heightened perturbation, and preemptively she clings onto the golden tentacles wrapped around her like the bar of a roller coaster while casually Ekitai notes the destination and wonders, “I thought the point of a secret base was to not get ambushed.”

Unfocused on divergent stimuli, Dana dives straight down with a boom from her thrusters, the golden trail left behind thicker as Kokei squeezes her eyes shut, the tentacles keeping the two passengers a similar distance with minimal elasticity.

In a linear downward path the golden trajectory leads down towards the top of the mountain range, specifically near one of its cliffs.

Azure stars glaring against the crimson stars, the two unmasked combatants just stare at each other, their black hair out as the man on the floor has theirs laid out and the one above has it waving in the wind just like their cape. The struggle is visible from both faces, the one on the ground clenching in aggression yet exhaustion, the crimson starry irises glaring hateful but reaching a limit.

After attempting to fight back for a few seconds, it becomes clear that the oppressive hold would not be easily relinquished and especially with the drainage that the battle has caused, only leading to one possible solution, one arrived at with expanded eyes in revelation.

In instant realization of the very thought to trigger the expression, the Spirit raises one hand forward to unleash a single stream which stops just a few feet past the man’s head to the very edge of the cliff, forming a single tall metallic pole with a single rope attached to it that has an open collar at the end grabbed in the black and white glove.

Concurrently the crimson man reaches for his forearm as the azure warrior brings the collar over the silver neck, automatically clamping around the throat with an audible mechanical lock just as the man taps on his gauntlet, although nothing happens when the contact is made.

That realization, although lagged by a couple seconds is one of utmost dread, the man’s eyes widening horrified as the rope holding him emits a soft magnetic hum.

In the night sky beside them moving under the moonlight is the golden being with two tentacles, gliding ever closer.

Approaching the mountain, Dana’s eyes contract to focus, her forearms morphing into their golden cyborg states, her fingers clawed and ready for potential combat.

In noticing the preparation for battle, Ekitai manages to slip his hand into his inner pockets squished by the golden tentacles, but still able to retrieve his handgun out which he tinkers with using a few taps and swipes under the hammer before nodding his head in affirmation.

Opposite from him, Kokei clenches her teeth in unease, her pink irises growing brighter ready to fight back if needed but knowing well the results from all prior skirmishes.

Ahead of the three is now the perceivable mountain cliff to be focused on given the strange metal pole jutting out of the ground pulsating a gentle red light like a flare, the reason for such flare right past it as even from this distance the three can see the man in the blue suit stand up and stomp his foot down on the crimson chest of the intruder beneath him.

Perfectly placed the black sole covers up the eraser insignia as a declaration of victory, as despite the struggling of the intruder it’s clear he’s unable to move, the futile scrambling having its observable toll on the face.

Through heaving of shared fatigue but ultimate perseverance, the blue warrior declares: “You’re not getting out of this one,” before releasing several fiery streams from his hands.

Each blaze reaches a different limb of the defeated man on the ground, each wrapping around the body before fabricating large metal white tubes with openings above to expose the limbs being trapped, but also to make known the inner lining of a purple luminescence that perpetrates a gentle field inside the tube, as despite the tube itself not having a tight constriction over the limbs, the field seems to be taking that role itself as it tugs from every angle thus allowing no movements at all with a magnetic strength unreachable by sheer physical constraints itself.

The monster nailed down on the ground despite the desperate squirms, the defender standing over him reveals, “You’re not getting out ever again.”

Not even a hundred feet away from the destination are the three reinforcements, the guide in the center decelerating to a cruising pace ready for battle, her green eyes in a shimmering glare, her large clawed hands ready for action.

Although immediately upon noticing the actual state of the scene, that aggression shifts to perplexity to the strangely safe outcome she’s reached, as also the glimmering from Kokei’s eyes fade and Ekitai lowers his firearm.

So close the hum of the stationary flight is almost overwhelmed by the hum of the tether pole, the three allies just watch in silence as the Azure Spirit stands over the Crimson Devil, the battle having already concluded in their favor, the current blowing against the winner’s black hair and cape as it does to the amber and pink hairs of the reinforcements.

No longer having the strength to exert full rage, the crimson man just groans as in heavy ventilation of his own he pleads, “I…was just…trying to help you….”

Audible to even the three looming just over the cliff, the voice attempts to clarify, “I…was trying to warn you...before ‘He’ gets you Himself…,” which even warrants some concerned puzzlement from the three by the somewhat ominous omen.

Although the only to not show any disquietude is the intended audience who instead just accuses back, “Trying to fall back on your old tricks? I thought after all these years you’d have grown but I don’t know why, you never change. You took a great risk to seek us out like this, but it appears like you overestimated yourself.”

Squirming more but to no avail, Exitium just thrashes his head from side to side while exclaiming loudly, “Why did I think…there was any point…trying to save you…when you still know nothing?!”

The stars in his eyes flicker white as he cries out even more to Meditat’s growing curiosity, “Why did I think this would go differently…why did I think it’d be worth the effort…to try making a change….”

All the sudden from the ground beneath Exitium a faint white light begins to emerge, one in a ring around his body encapsulating even the force restraints, a white light that Meditat examines still standing over the defeated but clearly more focused on the phenomenon.

“He’s right…I really am…pathetic aren’t I…I can’t stop Him…neither of us can…,” Exitium murmurs to himself as the gray stone below him becomes white as the light pours in from the ring, a hum resembling wind but with an extraterrestrial tone coming from the ground, slowly filling in the ring, the center of his irises flashing a white pulsation that crawls to the ends of the star’s streaks constantly.

That white light lights up Meditat’s uneasy face as he winces trying to decide whether or not to relinquish his hold, his valiant victory no longer as objectively satisfactory.

“NEITHER OF US WILL!!” finally screams out Exitium in a voice mixing rage and anguish, although his words are overpowered by the abrupt uprise of the ring’s hum before the white light jumps luminosity and the hum reaches its climax, but most of all in defiance to physics the man just plummets straight through the white sheet along with the restraints and nearly Meditat if not for his hasty jump aided by a boost backwards to grab onto the pole in front of the three allies, the hole no longer just pure white but instead oddly being composed of a network of infinite white rays with slightly varying luminosities flying into the ground as though the hole was in fact an entry to a tunnel, one that extends infinitely down such that the rope reaches its maximum stretch and rips the pole out of the stone, forcing Meditat to leap off of it and back in the air as it falls straight into the ground too.

From perplexity to straight shock, all three of the reinforcement’s faces light up, both in their expression and the white light cast over them, their eyes expanded and mouths open.

In front of the three hovering allies and below Meditat who floats up with passive boosts, the white hole whose rays seem to originate from the very edge of the floor itself abruptly shrivels up to the center and vanish entirely, its light and hum being pulled in with it as in a second the forest returns to normal: silent and dark.

After a few seconds pass Meditat lets himself drop down to the ground right where the circle was, but he stays grounded on the stone rather than falling through, and in silent awe he just stares at the floor, unable to even get enraged by the escape of his opponent as the sheer inexplicability of the method just leaves him speechless.

Only the breeze from the high altitudes of the mountain makes sound, the same breeze rustling the nearby leaves of the edge trees same as the black, brown, and pink hair the first of which above the same colored cape.

In silence the four just stare at where the hole had opened and so quickly closed, the hole clearly none of them were familiar with given their reactions, the one they just stared at at the top of the mountain.

That mountain, part of the range.

That range, part of the forest.

That forest, below the cosmic night sky.

But what lies past that sky is still unknown.

To them.