The Hawkmoths VS LoRI - Act 1

The Cliffside Barracks [Schism Earth] – On a Tuesday in November

“Not even the imports have that kick.” An anthropomorphic echidna-like creature downed a glowing bottle of beer at the counter of an improvised tavern within a brutalist military facility. He dug deep into his baggy pants to toss three repurposed poker chips towards the robot tending the bar. “Keep ‘em coming! DM and Merku gave me their tokens to use. I can handle whatever your equivalent to the scorpion in the bottle stuff is.” Looking almost annoyed, the robot went for a purple bottle containing a hydra in it.

“Woah, hold on there!” A mature human male intervened before the robot could serve the tainted drink. “Alvis, we’re thanking Razor and his associates for their recent assistance.” Substituting the hydra bottle for an orange one filled with cosmic wasps provided a compromise. “Do forgive the misunderstanding. We’re usually on the bailing out end of things when it comes to other adventuring groups. What was your group’s name again? The Legion of Ridiculous Individuals?”

“It’s League of Random Insanity or LoRI for short.” An anthro fox paused cleaning a stripped-down assault rifle. “Not every day that I have an excuse to bust out the anti-matter core rounds in a target rich environment.” Whole sections of the gun had to be swapped because of accelerated decay simply carrying the rounds in question. “Good thing that Melanie’s teleporting finally has some semblance of accuracy.” Cycling the mechanisms confirmed that the cleaned weapon was functional. “Now we can address her other accuracy issues.”

“The Hawkmoths thank you more than this bit of respite may off, LoRI. I forgot to introduce myself during the heat of the battle.” The human male bowed to the guests. “Zachary Formine, at your service. Our bartender for the night goes by the name Alvis.”

“Most introductions on the battlefield tend to devolve into screaming ‘YOU’ and helping whoever isn’t actively shooting at you.” A dark-furred three-tailed kitsune lit a cigarette. “Razor’s currently drinking, Paranoia is performing field maintenance, Merku is still checking the corners and you can call me Dark Matter if we’re being formal about titles.”

“Do I need to remind all of you what happened the last time we let our guards down?” Merku, an anthro hedgehog wearing a trench coat and sunglasses, turned from the furthest corner. Hands still on his katana; the adrenaline from combat still ran through his veins. “Razor celebrating too hard has screwed us multiple times. I’m not about to risk another Christmas 2021 anytime soon.”

DM noticed Zachary’s confusion at the mention and interjected to clarify. “It’s a long story that our professor friend is still putting together.” More footsteps could be heard entering the hall. Without even needing the look, the kitsune knew that other comrades were among the crowd. “I hope that tending to the wounded wasn’t that much of a problem, Rikka.”

“Scotch. Just leave the bottle.” An Asian woman in her early 30’s slammed a stack of poker chips onto the counter. Various colors of blood dripped from her medical scrubs and gloves. “Mark, if we do another cosmic intervention, make sure to leave the cryptozoology vet work to Dr. Voss.” Alvis handed over a bottle of liquor. “They’ll all live. Kikai decided to play nurse and fix the problems in the middle of me pulling bullets out from the older looking dragon.”

“Who are you calling old?” The older dragon hopped the bar to be at Zach’s side. “Zach, I only got hit because I was covering for Mr. Wannabe Street Samurai.”

“Ashley, you DID provoke the rip that brought on the temporal vermin.” Zach tried defusing the situation. Ashes from DM’s cigarette hit the counter. “Mark over there hasn’t had a chance to enjoy that victory smoke.”

“Busted. You know what? Screw it.” Merku laughed as he put down a poker chip. “Give me a beer because the explanation will take a while.”

“I don’t so much smoke cigarettes as it is mimicking a behavior from when I was alive.” DM unbuttoned his shirt enough for Zach and Alvis to observe a total lack of movement from breathing. “It’s enough of a social deterrent in our timeline that few people outside of our group pick up on it. Probably for the best considering I’m the figurehead for the Anti-Matter Revolution.”

“The only dimension I’m aware of where Anti-Matter is seeing major adoption is the one where…” Alvis thought aloud. The various accents had thrown him off, but the picture was becoming so much clearer now. “Here I was thinking that you might be Canadians.” Merku cleared his throat indignantly. “Canadians and one Scot. I thought that you Americans tended to coordinate uniforms or opt for flashy aesthetic.”

“Deniable operations and grand sabotage don’t exactly invite wearing American flag capes OR any livery for that matter.” Paranoia retorted. “Finish that thought before I need to give you fashion advice.”

“Yanks?” Ashley recoiled. “Do you lot know that weird American shapeshifter with the pink hair?" She searched for a repressed memory. "What was her name again? Emily something?”

"Rees? You mean Emily?” Kikai eagerly jumped onto the counter to compensate for her small height. A wily smile appeared on her face. “How do you know her?"

Alvis remembered the experience all too well. "Professor Rees assisted in recovering one of our other members named Zeydaan from an unstable pocket dimension. It was something only another shapeshifter could handle with certainty."

"I guess that means two saves from our end." Razor, recognizing the heat, took the metaphorical ball. “You have a shapeshifter and we know one. Maybe make something interesting happen?" Razor pretended to discard the idea. "Nah, having them fight would be pointless.” He started to down another drink. “Emily’s got it in the bag already.”

“Hold up!” A wolf/orc hybrid smacked the drink out of Razor’s hand. “The others might not get the ‘band battle’ hints, but I certainly do.” The hybrid scribbled the name ‘Lilith’ onto a napkin and handed it to Kikai. “I accept your challenge on behalf of the Hawkmoths because Zey is off training. Name the conditions.”

“Lilith, that’s awfully impulsive.” Ashley groaned. “You saw in that dimensional viewer what they do to dragons there.” She pointed in an accusing manner towards DM. “He killed over a thousand within a single day.”

“That was only because the most vocal dragons in our timeline WERE cultists hellbent on total domination beyond the shadows. We simply accelerate the demise of those who wish to use their deaths to bring about the deaths of others.”

“The same could be said about you.” Ashley growled. “You just go around gallivanting with no regard for the consequences. Who cares after the thrill is done? Just kill, kill and kill some more.” Feeling indignant, she lifted up Kikai from the bar. “You brought an actual child into battle! Who does that?”

“Woah!” Kikai flailed in surprise. “Who are you calling a child?”

“Technically, Kikai is the manifestation of an ancient cosmic being who only takes that form to be viewable on our fookin’ level of reality.” Merku scoffed. “If you’re this on edge, we really do need to let out this aggression one way or another.”

An anthro goat walked up to the bar, whispered something to Rikka and whistled for everyone’s attention. “Whatever she did was some of the best field surgery I’ve ever seen. Ashley, if you hadn’t been treated and were only now getting to the hospital, you’d be screaming for other reasons.” Kikai’s body slipped out from the dragon’s grip. “Careful.”

“Thanks, Asriel.” Kikai already knowing the goat’s name confused many in the room. “Bean, why don’t you speak up? I’m pretty sure you understand the reality-manipulating experience, too.”

An anthro moth began to sign from the far end of the bar. Kikai took the liberty of translating the language. “If they wanted us dead, they wouldn’t have come.” Kikai wasn’t quite sure of the signing. “Is that close enough?” Bean looked annoyed, she signed further. “I must admit that Emily’s rescue effort a while ago was worth the theatrics.” Kikai took the liberty of translating phrases she wasn’t sure of. “What we’re seeing is a clash of egos.” Bean stood up from the bar. “Also, the LoRI members present aren’t at full strength. Any direct fight between us now would be rather damaging to our respective dimensions.”

“Speak for yourself, moth.” Razor, now rather inebriated, took on a boxing stance. “Let’s forget a proxy battle. I’ll fight one of you right now.”

“Razor, Bean is their physically strongest member.” Kikai put on a toy headset that, in her hands, actually functioned. “Even Adam Blazer would have had trouble against her.”

“Stand down, Razor.” DM spontaneously generated another poker chip to sate Razor. “You only have so many fights against impossible odds left in you. Don’t forget that you were nearly thrown into a running jet engine during that one scrape in the Arctic.”

“Yeah, what he said.” Razor immediately cashed in the chip for another drink.

“So…” Zachary accepted the counterfeit chip to deescalate things. “We’re going to do the Emily Vs. Zeydaan thing to avoid a direct conflict, right?”

“Ya fookin know it.” Merku flipped the safety back on his gun. “Paranoia, talk to us.” Paranoia had improvised a fortification from three turned over tables. “Great, he’s in CDH [Cold Dead Hands] mode again. Rikka, make it literal.” Rikka drunkenly blasted Paranoia’s encampment into a large ice cube for transport.

“He’ll be fine.” DM shrugged off the extreme display. “He’s effectively immortal due to an enhanced self-replenishing cellular trial from his youth. The skills and knowledge remain, but the maturity resets every few years.” He placed his M1911 pistol on the counter in a sign of goodwill. “Shall we talk conditions between leaders?”

“It’s somewhat reassuring to know that we’re not the only strange group where the member dynamics are rather strange.” Zachary inspected the pistol to gauge the LoRI’s source dimension ‘tech vs. magic’ level. For such an old design, the gun sported many features and elements far beyond its ‘early 20th Century’ aesthetic. The presence of an alchemical generator in the magazine raised more questions than it answered. “Oh, I see. You’re capable of transforming matter through brute forcing enough energy from anti-matter annihilations. You’re opting for the ‘advanced enough tech is indistinguishable from magic’ path, aren’t you? Not quite on the level we have here in the 120st Century on Schism Earth.”

“Just wait until you meet MC. That’s assuming he leaves his meditation in the missile silo for something other than near Doomsday.” DM signed ‘Mark’ on the napkin Lilith was still holding. “Now that we have a contract, I’ll let your side set the first condition.”

Zachary held his hand over Lilith’s mouth. “It’s not a battle to the death, obviously.”

Lilith bit Zachary’s hand. “You’re no fun.”

“Done.” DM scribbled the first condition onto the napkin. “Our condition is no outside help outside of medical intervention. That’s mostly to keep Emily from calling in an airstrike or worse. What’s your next condition?”

“How has she involved airstrikes in transformation battles?” Zachary appeared dumbfounded. “Actually, don’t answer that. Our next condition is that it needs to be neutral territory that still invokes things Zey and Em are familiar with.”

“That answers the question about references I was going to ask.” DM wrote ‘Fortnite Island?’ on the napkin. “We want three rounds to make it so neither side can argue that they weren’t ready.”

“Ok, if we’re doing multiple rounds, we’d want the starting point to change each time.”

“Got it. We’ll want a mechanic to prevent a competitor from simply ‘camping’ their way to victory. Kikai will figure out that system.” DM turned to find Kikai drawing a map on the back of a paper placemat. “Good, you’re already working on it.”

“See? I knew those crayons were a good idea.” Zachary tried to spin the absurd scene into a positive. “I think our only other condition is that Zey is allowed to use their adventuring outfit. They aren’t at true combat potential if it isn’t allowed.”

“Yeah, they get that IF I can sell the rights to the event footage.” Razor shouted. “TV is a wasteland right now and the in-seasons New York teams other than the Bills SUCK.”

“Your dimension still cares about television rights? That explains so much…” Zachary cleared his throat. “Agreed. I’ll have the Hawkmoths scout possible pocket dimensions in the morning.” DM stuffed the napkin and Kikai’s drawn map into an empty beer bottle. “What are you doing?”

“Where’s the nearest dimensional rift you don’t care about, Zach?” DM loaded the bar rag into the neck of the bottle. “This Promethean Molotov will create the requested realm instantly.”

“You can’t be serious.” Ashley knew this had to be a bluff. “There’s no way you can spontaneously generate a dimension from such small pieces.” A glowing chunk of anti-matter suspended in a plasma glob within the bottle provided her answer. “You still need to give us time to research a proper seeding site.” Lilith abruptly snatched the Molotov from DM. “Lilith! Don’t do anything rash.”

“We just light it and toss it, right?” Lilith approached a window overlooking hundreds of funnels to empty dimensions. DM tossing over his lighter slightly endorsed the action. Lilith propped open the window, lit the rag and called over Bean. “Bean! You toss it! You’re the best thrower here.”

Zachary exclaimed in surprise. “This is why we don’t let you have a lighter, Lilith!” Bean chucked the Molotov through the window just in time for a pocket dimension to NOT destroy the Hawkmoths base. The moth closed the lighter and threw it back to DM.

Lilith closed the window. “That just leaves inviting the competitors. Zeydaan often says we should respect the realities we visit, and aside from Bean here, none of us are even capable of shapeshifting. That means you'll need to be creative.”

“Meaning what exactly?” Merku didn’t like where this was going.

“She means that you’ll need to invite Zey to the exhibition playing by the customs of the dimension.” Zachary pulled a sealed red envelope from under the bar. “We set this invite as one of Zey’s resets a while ago. If a few of you can get the letter to them, then the failsafe will do the rest. I do request one of you joins us in helping to frame Professor Rees’s invitation. Your dimension has nuances lost on us.”

“Me.” Razor raised his hand. “I volunteer. We’d need to shoot some promos, anyway.”

“Great, we got the bluntest one.” Ashley lamented. “Fine, we’re in this deep already.” Bean facepalmed, drawing Ashley's ire. “I’m still recovering. You’re on Zach watch, make sure my husband doesn’t do anything too… himself.”

Aeita Region, Aionios – 13:24 Local Time

Queen Nia lifted up a pair of binoculars to observe a fight unfolding in the distance. She peeked towards a stopwatch dangling from her neck. “Zeydaan’s going to need to make up some serious time at this rate.” Massive explosions suggested that Zey’s chain arts were in full effect. Surprisingly, the stopwatch spontaneously generated another thirty seconds. “Oi, that’s not fair!”

“You only say that because you bet that Zeydaan could not succeed without using your form.” Queen Melia gloated in her looming victory. “You repeatedly insisted on checking the sealing spells I cast.”

“Don’t you rub it in!” Nia replied defensively. “Zeydaan would need a rocket to get here in time.” Zey rode their witch broom/long gun past the red finishing posts. “You can’t just add more time!”

“Isn’t that the whole point of chain arts?” Zey shifted their adventuring outfit to a variant of Mio’s Zephyr class outfit. “Do I need to endure the whole saga of your clashing egos again, Nia?” Enough of Mio’s features came in that Zey could truly get under Nia’s skin. “Or should I call you mum?”

“Gaah! I hate it when you do that.” Nia looked away in embarrassment. “You shaved three seconds off your prior record. Is that what you want to hear?” A signal flare launching cut the conversation short. “Zey, did you drop your flare gun in the field?” No, it was clearly still on Mio’s outfit belt. “Who could it be?”

Melia jerked the binoculars from Nia to scan the horizon. “It could be Eunie coming back from the springs or…” Her tone shifted up to confusion. “Why would Pyra need a flare gun?”

“Pyra wasn’t meant to be back for a week and Zeydaan’s here.” Nia pinched Zey behind the ears, an agreed upon ‘trust test’, to confirm that Mio was the Zey in this dimension. “It might be something serious.”

“It’s definitely outsiders.” Zey couldn’t quite make sense of the approaching energy signatures. “They aren’t blades, drivers or anything between. I can’t sense their intent yet.”

Melia trained Zey’s rifle towards the approaching group.

Meanwhile, in the returning party, there was slight bickering. “Did we truly need to draw more attention to ourselves?” Rikka was still struggling to hide the purple sections of her hair under Morag’s hat. “I didn’t even play the game we’re pretending to be from.”

“You’re the only one of us who could pull off the effect in a normal costume.” Merku lifted up a latex mask to make talking easier. “Let Kikai do the talking.” He pulled down the mask to resume the illusion that Zeke was wearing a traveling disguise.

“Zach said that the fast travel spell will kick in quickly.” Kikai instantly critiqued her own performance. “Ahem. I meant to say that Masterpon assures us that transit will happen upon activation of the item.” She adjusted the illusion giving her the appearance of Poppi Alpha. “Do we still have the letter, ‘Pyra’?” Pyra silently held up the red envelope. “Good! I calculate an 88% chance of success because of Razor’s absence.”

“Pyra!” Zey shouted towards the group. Reluctantly, ‘Pyra’ ran towards the approaching wolf. By the time they bumped into each other, Zey had shifted again into Mythra. “It figures that you’d have trouble on your own. Did Zeke lead you into a deceptively hard secret boss encounter?” Mythra head counted the group before her. “Huh. Where’s Brighid, Pandy and Tora?”

“Masterpon told us that sending message to user Zeydaan took priority.” Poppi intervened. “Pyra lost her voice thanks to a new status effect. She’ll cook it away at camp when she has the chance.”

Mythra took the envelope from Pyra and examined the seal carefully. “The Smash Bros. symbol? We’re already in Smash, Pyra.” Breaking the seal zapped Zey back into their baseline form once again.

Dear Zeydaan/Isabella Jem

If you’re reading this letter, we need you to report urgently. Enclosed are two pills to take for warding off the most intense of lingering personality. If they’re strong enough to break you from a Grey spiral, they should cover most personas. If the letter was hand delivered, then the couriers are acting on our behalf. If it was dropped off, do whatever you can to escape the current reality.

See you soon

-Hawkmoths team

P.S: No, this isn’t the Nia Intervention. That envelope would be Nia themed.

P.S 2: Forget what I said in P.S 1.

“You’re not breathing, Pyra. Also, Poppi doesn’t breath, but your small friend certainly is.” Zey directly asked ‘Pyra’. “Why don’t you tell us who you are?” Zey pointed to their nose. “You don’t smell right, either.” They sniffed again. “Actually, not-Morag smells better than the real one. The shampoo smell barely conceals the booze sweats.”

“Thank you.” Rikka removed the troublesome hat. “I’m around almost a dozen people with enhanced smell and they don’t notice.”

“We notice.” Merku removed the latex mask. “The antiseptic stench usually cancels it out.”

“A Mobian!” Zey sounded delighted. “Aren’t you usually this high?” Zey held a hand at around the meter height. “Oh! Did you touch a Super Mushroom in the Mushroom Kingdom?”

“Not quite.” Kikai adjusted her height in front of Zey. “They’re from a timeline where humans spliced in animal DNA following man-made horrors that irradiated the world. Not quite mutants, but not quite natural evolution.”

“That explains why I couldn’t sense your energy at first.” Zey whistled to the observing queens. “You’re interrupting a royal event. Technically, it is a bet among two queens.” Melia made her presence more obvious from a ridge. “They’d like to know who you are before acting on this offense. Uninvited impersonation has strict penalties… Many of them the result of my actions.”

DM ripped off the latex mask from the front to prevent Zey from potentially damaging something in the process. “It has been ages since I tried the kitsune shapeshifting trick and had to rush a lower-tech solution.”

“You’re that kitsune from Emily Rees’s dimension!” Zey tried to remember the name. “Edgy Tails, right?” They walked around DM to examine the rest of the illusion. “You did decent work for a standard polymorph illusion. It’s clear that shapeshifting isn’t your usual forte.”

“Let’s call that close enough." DM dropped the latex mask onto the floor below. “It’s DM for short and my colleagues are part of the League of Random Insanity.” The others began to remove their disguises to the extent possible. “I hope your queens understand that Rikka doesn’t have another outfit on-hand. Her scrubs are in the laundry back at the barracks on the cliff.”

“What kinda daft name is that?” Nia hissed on her approach. “You lot had us worried that our actual friends were hurt.” At least the outsiders were dropping an pretense of disguise when confronted. “Where are you even from? You in with that Sonic lot?”

“The Hawkmoths sent us.” Rikka tossed the hat away to appease Nia. “Zach said that the letter would trigger a failsafe.”

“For future reference, the direct method is preferred in dimensions like these.” Zey summoned the rifle back into their back to put Rikka at ease. “The letter is authentic and uses the same stationary as Smash invites. They need to be sure that the genuine article is attending free of any shapeshifting.” A familiar scent hit Zey’s nose. “You may have a chance to apologize to Pyra personally.”

“What’s going on here? I saw the flare from my campsite.” The actual Pyra ran over for added confusion. “I didn’t think that all canine-shaped beings were fans of me.” She picked up the mask from the ground. “What a strange item.” She handed it back to DM, almost amused at the oddity. “You must tell me why over a meal.”

“We are not humoring these weirdos, Pyra!” Nia closed her eyes. “When I open my eyes, I don’t want to see anymore of these impersonators.” By the time she opened her eyes, the three Pyras were pointing at one another. “Don’t encourage each other!”

“You see, the secret to executing a recipe is hitting the button at the right time.” One Pyra said to the others. “I’ve been thinking about making a cookbook.”

“You should!” Another Pyra replied. “I struggle with finding time to prepare ingredients. What about you, Pyra?”

‘Pyra’, haphazardly with the mask back on, cleared her throat. “If we divide the labor, we could finish preparing for additional guests in the same amount of time.” Rikka gave DM a weird look over the inexplicable sudden female voice.

“Oh yeah, you weren’t there for the ‘DM stuck as a chick’ in space period.” Merku barely held back a laugh. “I think it is some lasting trauma from those Stepford types we faced back in the day.”

One Dinner Party Later…

DM removed the latex mask again now that the permitted novelty was over. “Thanks for forgiving the offense, Pyra. There’s still the pressing matter we need to address.”

“That depends on what the matter is.” The Pyra on the left of the table responded. “It would take a lot for either of us to leave our friends here.”

“Is that so?” DM lit a cigarette. “Zachary told me that one of you likes to smoke and we’ll see who cracks first.” He positioned a pack from a mystical brand in a position between the two Pyra’s. “Maybe I had Razor spike them. Who knows?”

“Give me those!” Eunie, now also at the site, snatched the cigarettes for herself. She lit one and gave away which Pyra was Zey. “You forgot to bring them last time!” She smacked the Pyra on the right’s shoulders. The impact took Zey by enough surprise that the illusion broke. Within only a few puffs, Eunie's look had altered to have a beanie and a Smoogie aesthetic. "I was goin' mad from needing to remain in-character."

“Your colleagues have put you up for a little exhibition, Zeydaan.” DM, still Pyra from the neck down, began. “What do you say to a three round match against Emily Rees in neutral territory?”

“DM, I’ve been meaning to ask.” Zey whispered into DM’s ear. “Did she lock you in that body?” Zey sounded confused.

“No, I forgot that I’m so out of practice that I’m probably stuck this way for a day or two. You probably know how kitsune shapeshifting goes.” DM did his best to retain some gravitas in the moment. “There’s a reason why all the Japanese iconography includes them wearing masks.” DM saw Zey blush. “So… Do you want a chance to fight Emily?”

“I don’t have much reason to fight her. Vanessa has told me about how crazy some of the things are in her dimension. I don’t even know what New Haven is beyond knowing that it has been the epicenter of near-apocalypses twice. When I did visit, Emily was so fried from the holidays that her own family had to turn her into Glimmer.”

“Crossovers are very popular in our dimension right now. Culture has pretty much frozen in the wake of a writers’ strike and nostalgia pops are the main thing people take comfort in.” Kikai popped an elongated Tootsie roll into her mouth to approximate a cigar. “Come on, it will be fun. I created a whole new dimension for you two!”

“Is she being serious?” Nia considered the lack of an answer to be confirmation. “She’s serious. That’s a lot for me to process.”

“She can’t fookin kill you, if that’s what your hold up is.” Merku didn’t bother smoking to enter the conversation. “We saved your friends and egos clashed. We figured making you two fight for fun would keep us from going after each other.”

“If there’s so much riding on it, I’d be cruel if I don’t agree to it." Zey rested their mouth on their right hand in contemplation. "I don’t know what a crossover is, though. Is that like the Smash Bros. Dimension?”

“It’s exactly like that.” Kikai snapped her candy. “You’re allowed to wear your adventuring outfit, too.”

“Ok, I’ll do it! Let me do this the right way.” Zey stood up from the table. The wolf pulled an opened Smash letter from their back pocket. “Big Battlefield, Stage Morph, No Items, 2 stock.” The letter flew from Zey’s hands into the cosmos. “If we head out now, the conditions should arrive there by the morning.” Pyra audibly cleared her throat. “We’ll go after we put away the dishes, obviously.”

“I hope Razor’s having better luck on his end.” Rikka mumbled.

Meanwhile, in Stamford, CN…

Lilith, Zachary and Bean stood on a soundstage deep in a production facility. Razor sat at the director’s spot making last minute adjustments to a script written on sheets of binder paper. “The script is ready.” Razor handed out the papers to the respective actors. “Did you study that clip I showed to hype you up on delivering promos?”

“Why was that muscular man screaming about inaccurate Maths?” Zachary skimmed through the ‘script’ in his hands. “You can’t have us insult all these people we don’t know.”

“I’ll read his lines if he doesn’t want to.” Lilith volunteered. “You’re too nice to pull off the bad guy, Zach.”

“No, Lilith needs to be the viper who strikes decisively.” Razor furrowed his brow. “I’ll get one of the WWE production crew to operate the cameras. The only person who can put power to my work is me.” Razor positioned himself near the Hawkmoths on the soundstage. “Yo, grip! Go get a chainsaw or a sledgehammer for Zach to hold.” Razor turned to reassure Zach. “It’s only to make you look like a threat.” Razor turned back to the grip. “We need to make him look like he’s about to go postal.”

“What are you going to do about Bean?” Zach watched roadies wheel in ridiculous props. “Your friend Kikai isn’t here to interpret for her.” Bean signed a countdown to her walking off. "You don't want to know what Bean will do if she misses her start time at the theater tonight."

“Don’t worry about it, bro.” Razor took the script back. “I need the Sign Language interpreter out of camera view and the SCARIEST sounding chick we got in production to do the voice. Everything is going to work out just fine. One take, I promise.”

WCBS-TV [NYC, Channel 2] Broadcast. 6:31 PM EST

“Good evening, America. Our breaking news story is a video that was dropped off at our office moments ago. We go live to that video.” A female news anchor stated coldly.

AMATEUR VIDEO – Views and Opinions Don’t Reflect CBS News

The following announcement has been paid for by the Hawkmoths.

Razor stood in the middle of the soundstage; sleazy music blasting in the background. “It’s a tough job, but someone has got to do it.”

Dynamic camera pans showed Bean and Lilith. “People are wondering which city is going to be next?” Bean’s voiceover actress put on an aggressive tone. Pointless shots to Zach holding a leaf blower obscured the signing. “Which city is going to be brought to the brink of destruction all for one woman’s ego?”

“Yeah.” Lilith spat out a toothpick. “It’s an invite-only club and none of you are on the list.”

Razor walked in from the side of the shot. “You can talk about the money. You can talk about beating people up. Well, it’s a new world order and she hopes it is ok because there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“That’s right. Power, ego, money and now she made enough of a fuss to drag us down to this backwater dump of a planet.” Bean’s voiceover actress improvised because Bean was signaling numbers.

“Y’know, think about it.” Lilith addressed the camera directly. “She outs shapeshifting and suddenly everything goes crazy. We’re here to put her in check. Commit this name to memory: Hawkmoths. We’re like hawks because we swoop in and like moths because we break the fabric of any system that gets in our way.” This dialogue was ridiculous.

“It’s the new way!” Razor bellowed out. “Is that ok, Emily Rees?”

“You don’t like it?” Lilith scoffed. “Come and fight us. Is Emily going to fight or are we just going to take her title?”

“We make the choices!” Razor pointed to himself. “Wait for the call.”

An abrupt cut had Razor all alone again. “You know, Emily Rees with all of Emily’s alliances and all of Emily’s girls won’t be able to put New Haven back together again. You know what they tell someone who wrecks a town twice in a span of less than a decade? They say last rites at a funeral pyre, brother.”

“This Emily Rees chick… She’s soft and living in a personal country club.” Lilith flipped up her shirt. “Take a look at us. We have to fight, scratch and claw for everything we got. And we want to bring her down a peg.”

“You guys know something? I almost forgot something that’s really important!” Razor feigned surprise. “Our next member is going to be challenging Emily Rees for her Queen of Transformation title at a venue of our choice. I forgot. It slipped my mind! I mean, the title of Queen of Transformation is on the line! That means, in one given night, we could swoop in and take your so-called heroine’s dignity after a sound beating.”

Razor kept rambling long after Bean and Lilith stopped playing along. “I find it quite ironic that the woman who crowned herself the queen refuses to defend her title. How can she be so weak? Oh wait, you’ve never seen her fight without Overwatch, RWBY, Splatoon or even my old group, the LoRI, around for backup support. Why do you think that is? It’s because Emily Rees is a bitc…”

Tape Cut Off

“CBS News has received a follow-up statement from the LoRI’s legal department.” The female anchor read from a piece of binder paper eerily similar to Razor’s script. “Razor is no longer possessed. The Hawkmoths are so powerful that he couldn’t control his own body, mouth or swagger. Will Emily Rees respond to this callout?” She returned to the original script for the developing stories. “In other news, PS5 Pro continues to remain on shelves. Employees commented that there are no games.”

Emily turned off the television in her home office. Her phone had hundreds of notifications coming in by the second. Great… She was trending for all the wrong reasons. She fired up a social media app, took a picture in front of her title belt, wrote a caption and posted.

I accept. – @RealEmilyRees 6:36 PM EST

————————

Inside a Manhattan Motorcade - 7:00 AM [EST] November 13th, 2024

“Tensions remain following an announcement of intent to attack from a group calling themselves the Hawkmoths…” The news report on the radio was cut off when Merku opted to turn off the feed. He looked out the window to keep tabs on the ground and air assets escorting the LoRI’s heavily-modified Humvee towards a studio located in Midtown Manhattan. You could cut the tension with a knife. No one dared to state the obvious: Razor had announced the fight in the dumbest way possible.

“Is… Is it normal for the people you call ‘FEDs’ to storm your lodgings at 6:00?” Zach broke the silence in the vehicle. He and the other Hawkmoths were trying to sober up from the aftermath of Razor’s ‘totally like Scarface’ celebration the night before. FBI, DHS, ATF and other federal agents storming the motel was apparently the cherry on the top. “He told us that it would help us understand the culture, yet I’m more confused than ever.”

“I’m trying to recover from that flashbang.” Zeydaan cycled their head through multiple forms to reset their eyes. “Mark, is there anything I need to know ahead of this public appearance?”

DM spun the passenger’s seat to face the Hawkmoths sitting in the back. “First of all, apologies about the FEDs wake up call. Razor certainly knows how to attract attention.” He lit a cigarette. “Officially, we’re going to state that Razor was still under the influence of a cosmic entity at the time of filming. That won’t completely put the human populace at ease, but leave the major performance to Vanessa. Most people in this dimension barely know about magic; she can make their heads spin using basic tricks. Our priority in this interview is to deescalate the perceived threat.” Jets streaked loudly overhead. “Merku, can you identify the aircraft type?”

“Five F-22’s and an F-35E.” Merku read from scanner results that appeared on the windshield. “They’re expecting another fookin’ incursion or worse.”

“My powers aren’t something that conventional weapons could stop.” Zeydaan humbly bragged. “I could name a dozen ways that I’d negate aerial adversaries.”

“One of those planes is probably Emily’s younger daughter. Let’s save any discussion of monster movie fight tactics to the pocket dimension, ok?” DM heard Ripley’s distinct engine noise reverberate through the air.

“I’d suppose she would reveal herself during my demonstration. Don’t your shapeshifters engage in duels?” Zey pouted. “I’ll have you know that the residents of Monster Island don’t like being considered movie monsters.”

DM rolled his eyes. “We can’t guarantee your safety if Emily thinks one of her kids is hurt or dead.” He dumped some of the cigarette’s ashes into a container. “Officially, we call them the ‘Rees cousins’ if asked. The average person can’t quite process multiple timelines in movies, let alone in reality.” DM turned the chair around. “We’re two minutes out from the studio. The interviewer is named Nate and he’s going to ask about the event as though it is a sporting event. Lean into it because the network will do the rest.” The vehicle came to a stop in an alley behind the studio. “We’re here.”

Meanwhile, outside of the Columbia Anthropology Department

“Professor Rees!” Paparazzi jumped on the first woman they saw who had pink hair. One reporter from a local station shoved a microphone in the woman’s face. “What do you know about your competitor? Is there anything you’re not telling the American people?” The woman they jumped, an exchange student from France, ran away screaming. “Damn, that’s the fourth one. Where is she?” Emily watched on in silent horror from the roof.

“I picked one Hell of a morning to come into the office.” Emily let down her hair, removed her glasses and changed her hair color to reduce chances of being recognized. Alas, the sound of helicopter overhead brought the strategy to an end. “Damn you, ACTION NEWS team.” Naturally, the Paparazzi rushed to send up drones. There was no easy way out of this… “I mean to say that you passed the test.”

“Professor Rees!” Someone asked over the helicopter’s enhanced speaker system. “What do you know about your competitor?” Even if Emily could shout a reply back, the engines would have drowned out the audio. “Could you send your message @WCBS2? Thanks. I can’t hear you.”

Not wanting to humor the press, Emily dropped any subtlety. A helicopter continuously hovering over the campus superseded any noise complaint she could generate. Striking an ‘Off the Hook’ pose, Emily took on the appearance of Pearl. She gave the drones a minute to take glamour shots before addressing the question. Her customized Killer Wail unit materialized from thin air. “NO COMMENT!”

“HEY! A caller on Stern claims to have fight details! We’re running the show in the press room.” Larkin shouted over a megaphone. “Professor Rees, get off the roof.”

Radio Show [In Progress]

Howard Stern: “For those of you just remembering how to tune in, we have a caller from New Jersey who claims to possess important information. You know that I’m not usually one to care about this shapeshifter junk, but consider me interested if I learn where not to invest any money.”

Robin: “The sound crew told me that she did some witch thing to verify her credibility.”

Howard Stern: “Is that right? Ask her for the Lottery numbers off-air and then have her give out wrong ones on-air.”

Robin: “Vanessa, you’re on the air.”

Vanessa: “First time caller and first time listener. Every other radio show in Manhattan is a sports show, apparently.”

Howard Stern: “Yes, naturally you call up to tell us something sports-related. Are you a part of the media? I have to ask you or else the FCC will be up my ass again.”

Vanessa: “No, I’ve been an associate of the Hawkmoths for a while. The message that ran last night was edited beyond the original intent.”

Howard Stern: “What I don’t understand is that I have to respond to claims of plastic surgery for years. However, someone can go out, become a cartoon character and they get a parade. Where’s my parade for not being the center of how many crises has Emily Rees been in the center of?”

Robin: “I lost count when those Grimm things attacked Rockefeller Center.”

Vanessa: “Are you going to let me give you the exclusive details or do you want me to give it to terrestrial radio?”

Howard Stern: “Woah, let’s put the knife down. We wouldn’t want to say or do anything we regret. Do you know who the glasses bitch is going to fight?”

Vanessa: “Yes, an anthropomorphic wolf named Zeydaan.”

Robin: “She’s going to fight a wolf?”

Howard Stern: “Ok, now I’m interested. Are we talking about a werewolf or a constant wolf? I want my trashy TV ratings traps to be as close to animal fights as possible.”

Robin: “Howard…”

Howard Stern: “NBC rejected my idea for a show where they simply show animal attacks for an hour. I’m inclined towards the wolf off the bat. Then again, glasses girl was also rejected by NBC after the trashy special and hosting SNL.”

Vanessa: “They’re a wolf except when they aren’t.”

Howard Stern: “Well… You heard it here first, America. Emily is going to fight a wolf on CBS. That’ll be something different from all the cop dramas and reality shows.

[End Segment]

“What do you mean that Stern scooped us?” Nate Burleson stormed out from the ready room. His fellow anchors had been hyping up the exclusive reveal of Emily’s opponent at 8:00 AM, which gave Howard a chance to break the story at 7:40 AM. The producer moved up the interview to a sooner position after the current commercial break ended in less than two minutes. “Where’s the wolf I’m interviewing?” Zeydaan emerged from a disguise as one of the folding chairs in the room. “You don’t see that everyday. Camera guy, you get that?” The camera operator nodded. “Good, that’s the lead-in clip.”

“I am Zeydaan Jem of the Schism Earth.” Zeydaan began to speak until Nate signaled towards the countdown clock. Thirty whole seconds? Ok, they could furnish the room in less than half of that time. Not even the camera’s ultra-slow motion could have accurately captured the nuances of the transformations to the room that made it into a picturesque tavern. “Is the lighting good enough or do I need to summon a miniature star?”

“You’re good.” Nate took a seat on one of the stools. “Let me get your card later if you remodel kitchens.” The camera operator counted down to the live feed. “I am live here with Zeydaan Jem from Schism Earth.” He checked a napkin that had the relevant notes on it. “They will be Emily’s opponent in an upcoming live sporting event exclusively on CBS. Zey, what do you want to say in your first message to the viewers at home? You can only make a first impression once.”

“Your planet is rather strange, I must say. Many of my friends are considered fictional characters in this realm.” Zeydaan scratched their muzzle. A note teleported into their paw. Zey spied a half-kitsune girl peeking in from just beyond the camera’s range. “I… challenged Professor Rees because I want to see the best shapeshifter your planet has to offer.” Zey flipped over the note. “It would also be hype as… explicit word.”

“Professor Rees has been at the center of the shapeshifter scene for a while now.” Nate let out a slight sigh of relief that an actual curse word hadn’t been said. “Hype is a great word for it. I watched that video Razor put out last night and it was like the Monday Night Wars all over again. What could we expect from a Hawkmoths-led era if you win the belt at the event? I’ve heard rumors that Emily is planning to have Cody Rhodes’ tailor make her entrance gear.”

Zey raised an eyebrow at the series of statements and the question. What was this man talking about? “There’s something I’ve been wondering since I encountered Emily for the first time in a different dimension. Why is it that you all seem so obsessed with referencing things? Can’t you accept things as they are? There’s going to be a shapeshifting demonstration from two skilled combatants. Isn’t that enough? I don’t understand why we need to frame it in a manufactured drama centered on a ceremonial prize. I’d much rather frame this like something from a realm that goes by the name of Super Smash Bros.”

“Hold on, you are implying that Super Smash Bros. is more dignified than professional wrestling?” Nate sounded quite uneasy.

“It’s a true test of skill where heroes from all across space and time compete, yes. Those fighters don’t need to liken their adventures to past glories… At least that’s the case apart from Sonic until recently.”

“We all love Sonic around here.” Nate cleared his throat. “Stay tuned to CBS for more details about the fight.” The feed cut back to the main studio.

“Did I say something wrong?” Zey wondered why the interview was abruptly cut short. “I wanted to do a demonstration for the viewers.”

“Look for yourself, wolf.” Nate slid his phone across the tavern bar towards Zey. The top headline on news aggregators was Zey’s line about wrestling being spun as a diss of President Dwayne Johnson. “You dissed The Rock.”

Zeydaan huffed. “I do suppose that the public will need a demonstration in a different venue.” Times Square was within walking distance. What was the worst thing that could happen there for a shapeshifter?

Columbia University Press Room – 7:55 AM

Emily approached the podium once the television segment ended. The information lined up enough for her to consider the fight a serious challenge. “I’d like to…” She was too close to the microphone. “Whoops, I’m accustomed to the lapel mic from my classroom.” Slight adjustments made the audio levels more bearable. “I’ve heard the information alongside the members of the press. Based on my prior interactions with Vanessa, I’m treating them as legitimate. Barring new information from the Hawkmoths, I will be fighting Zeydaan in the near future. That is all I know at this time. Are there any questions?” Every reporter, blogger and media student with a cell phone in the room raised their hands. “Whoever is the oldest gets the first question. Is there anyone in the crowd over 55 who will admit it?” Everyone apart from one man lowered their hands. “Ask away.”

“Johnny Stephens, Columbia Daily Spectator. Professor Rees, what can you tell us about this Zeydaan entity beyond the radio segment? Are we talking about a dire wolf, something like the Anthro American community or something else?”

“Zeydaan is an anthro wolf slightly taller than most Anthro Americans. However, the exact height is variable due to shapeshifting ability.”

“Wouldn’t it make sense for this Zeydaan to challenge the LoRI instead? We all saw Razor’s video last night.”

“Listen, if these beings meant harm, there’s no way the LoRI would have let them through to our dimension. Razor is…” Emily looked down towards her phone. A text from her handler, Schrodinger, stated ‘stall’. “Razor is passionate about sharing his love for a specific period of wrestling. New York does need a big sports extravaganza after that World Series loss and it isn’t as though our NFL season is looking any better. I gladly accept Zey’s challenge.”

Emily saw an incoming call from ‘Dwayne J.’ on her phone. She hastily looked towards the hallway where one of her students was passing by. “Hey, Jimmy! These people want to hear that term paper concept you pitched to me.” Jimmy hooked up his laptop to the room’s projector. “I’ll be back after a personal call.” She accepted the call; she hoped that the ‘you are receiving a call from the White House’ rambling would be done by the time she reached her office.

“Professor Rees, are you there?” Dwayne Johnson couldn’t make sense of the press noise and people screaming about tugboats. “You have ten seconds before I start cooking on your candy ass.”

“Sorry, I had to get into a secure room.” Emily pulled the door closed behind her. “Congratulations on the Second Term, by the way. I can’t say that I was focusing much on the election.”

“Thanks for refraining from commenting on it.” Dwayne’s tone shifted from jovial to one where Emily could tell he had an eyebrow furrowed. “Do you care to explain to me why the Pentagon is demanding we invest in next gen psychic soldiers to ‘combat the Hawkmoth menace’? I’m barely keeping the Joint Chiefs from deploying the A.R.M.S system for containment.”

“Razor was probably drunk and crank called another dimension. You know how he is when celebrating.”

“A little birdie in Stamford told me as such. We had a tense night in the Situation Room considering termination options last night.” Dwayne sounded pissed. “Then we remembered that the strike force for such matters is the LoRI. Officially, I can’t endorse or participate in whatever happens next. The FCC is still on my ass over my appearance at Wrestlemania this year.”

“Mr. President, I’m not expecting you to intervene. This is a media circus that I’ll need to manage on my own.”

“Yeah, you don’t know the half of it.” Dwayne paused for a tense moment. “Every other living Rees is going to be roped into very public obligations to reassure the American people. I just got off the phone with your elder daughter and she’s well aware of our contingency options.” He exhaled. “Are the measurements you told me in confidence real?”

“Why do you ask?” Emily blushed out of embarrassment.

“That same little bird leaked it to CBS that a specialty tailor will be making your entrance attire. She’ll be at your compound in three hours. Don’t keep her waiting. I will take full credit in the event of an overwhelming victory, understood?”

“Yes, Mr. President.” Emily ended the call. The solitude of the closet put everything into perspective. “How did I even end up in this position?” She muttered to herself knowing that no answer would come. “Zeydaan isn’t dumb. They’re probably watching tape of my go-to forms right now. I’m going to need to surprise the public and Zey alike.” Opening the closet door brought in enough light for Emily to notice the spare ‘blue-striped hoodie dress’ hanging on the closet rod. The garment was so fresh that it still had the price tag attached. “Perfect.” Her glasses glinted like mirrors in the light.

Several Hours Later in the ‘Sistine Chapel’

“Cowabunga, dudes.” Razor descended into a sewer hole wearing a Dominos delivery bag on his back. He was sporting a black eye and a few cuts from the aftermath of his interview on another channel trying to set the record straight. Zeydaan and the Hawkmoths were spread out around the hideout in various stages of slumber. “I didn’t know what to bring. So…” Opening the bag projected the catering tables in front of the others. “Thanks for the magic bag, Ashley. That’ll show those morons at NPR.”

Ashley grumbled in uneasy slumber. She mumbled an incantation that dispelled some of the sewer stench. Her eyes opened wide when she completed the spell. "Why are we in a sewer? The kitsune said that we were going to the Sistine Chapel!” She stared at the wall of old TVs, graffiti on the ceiling and piles of pizza boxes. “This is worse than those places Grey frequents.”

"We really should be on the surface level amongst the people." Zach chimed in. "Being below them isn't going to help our reputation."

“What do you expect?” Paranoia pulled a wad of cash out from under one of the couches. “No hotel on the island is willing to house the ‘alien invaders’ who trash-talked The Rock.” He counted the roll of money while simultaneously priming defenses. “Razor, you forgot to close the manhole cover. We do not need TMZ following you into one of our cosmic constant safehouses.” He finished the count once Razor had sealed the sewer sanctuary. “Good, my $10K bug out budget for this location is untouched.”

“That’s not answering my question.” Ashley fumed. “Why are you talking about bug out plans?” A humanoid woman sporting brown hair, fox ears and a fox tail teleported on top of the disturbed dragon. “I thought Kikai was bad enough. Who is this woman?”

“Remember the teleporting accuracy comment from before I was frozen yesterday?” Paranoia pulled Melanie off from the dragon. “Ashley, meet Melanie Woods. Melanie, meet the crew that Razor decided to ‘challenge’ on Emily’s behalf.”

“Using my psychic powers, I was able to hear your question in advance.” Melanie didn’t bother with formalities. “We call this the Sistine Chapel because Razor found it in another dimension and scribbled on the ceiling to mark it. He was in a TMNT phase at that point and, therefore, he was channeling multiple Michelangelo’s.” She sensed that the Hawkmoths were none too pleased with the explanation. “Paranoia, didn’t Mark leave me in charge of the accommodations? I was trying to get us a suite at the Four Seasons.” She snatched Paranoia’s pile of money. “Hey! You told me that this was going towards the lodging fund. As the LoRI’s second-in-command and the treasurer, I must seize this!”

“DM’s orders changed once Puff the Magic Dragon here…” Paranoia shook Zeydaan’s tail until it reflexively changed back into a dragon tail. “Insisted on performing a transformation demonstration in Times Square that involved becoming a dragon and then part of the landmarks. We're lucky that people didn't think it was a Grimm attack. As for Mel...” He took the money back from Melanie. “It’s better off hiding this where we might use it as opposed to you dumping us in a cheap AirBnB to spend the rest on Disney Store items.”

“I’ll have you know that the Disney Store is the only store that stocks Faunus-style sleep pants in the color I like! Not all of us can get by only wearing combat pants and combat straps. You are such a Stitch, Paranoia!”

“Will you two shut up?” Lilith grabbed the money, handed it to Razor and flipped off the two foxes. “Fuck both of you. Razor actually gives a shit about us.” She punched the ceiling in frustration, forming a perfect mosaic in the process. “Zey, we’ve got a fight to train for. Razor, I don’t care what you do with that money so long as the foxes shut up.”

“I’m gonna get some guac from the bodega.” It didn’t take Melanie’s psychic powers to see through the ruse because there was already a guacamole fountain in the lair. He booked it out from the hideout before the others could object. What sorts of pleasures and vices would tempt him today? Helicopter tour? Nah, he flew in on a helicopter. The NYC rejuvenation of the 90’s removed the sleazy theaters from the main avenues of Manhattan. Practically the only vice beyond his usual party regiment was high-stakes gambling. A pop-up betting parlor in a former Starbucks location caught his attention. “Grey’s Mega Money Betting and Sin Club.” He also read the disclaimer on the door. “No fookin’ kids unless you’re cool.”

Grey Ryder could hardly believe that someone actually entered the place she had been squatting in overnight. “Oh, an enchilada.” She completely botched the species name at the sight of the money in the anthro’s hand. “I mean, we hav’ a real fookin’ balla in the building.” She dashed from the counter to examine the wad up close. “What ya wanna bet on? Horses? Futbol? That dumb Yank version of Futbol? How much weed can I smoke in an hour?” Razor did look like the type of guy to carry ‘sharing size’ of drugs without being a dealer. “You’re not a copper, are ya? I’m a diplomat and can do whaever!”

“I’m cool.” Razor should have cut interactions with the smoogie at that moment. Then again, she was that type of girl down to party without needing to check her phone constantly. Those aren’t exactly common in the 2020’s. “What’s the spread on the transformation fight? I have a passing interest in it.” He tried to pretend he wasn’t the epicenter of the commotion.

“Oh, that’s your poison?” Grey wrote some completely arbitrary numbers on a chalkboard previously used to list special brews. “My sources say Em’s got it clutch, but I also have buzz coming from Zey’s camp.” She leaned in to whisper. “I’m close to the guy who started the whole thing.” Rapid number crunching on a cash register generated a series of random numbers on the printed receipts. “If you bet on Em and she wins, you’ll lose money cuz everyone else is betting that way. Bet on Zey and they win. Well, you’ll get a lot of money.”

“A lot of money sounds tempting.” Razor placed the $10K wad on the counter. “I might even win $10K!” Grey greedily took the money. “Where’s my ticket for the bet?”

“I never forget a face.” Grey counted the money. “See me outside of the stadium after the event IF Zey wins.” This seed money would fund a MUCH larger money making venture for Grey.

Staging Area [Pocket Dimension] – Saturday 10:30 AM EST

“Souvenirs and merch for sale!” A hawker on the fringes of the merch row shouted at the approaching members of the production crew. “It took a lot for us to overnight all of these shirts!” He held up a shirt depicting Emily fighting an abstract wolf monster design based on Zeydaan’s demonstration from a few days prior. “$40 cash; $50 credit.”

“I’ll take one!” Ripley Rees, wearing multiple crew badges, sifted through the shirt designs until she found the one that opted for a ‘Little Red Riding Hood and big Bad Wolf’ gimmick in the graphic. “I’m going to need a change of clothes after the preshow.” She placed $40 into the hawker’s pocket and carried away the shirt. “Now… Where’s that press box?” A small creature sporting an omega symbol glued a directory onto the wall opposite Ripley. “They weren’t kidding about how last-minute the construction was. Thanks, Hoffi!” Most of the employees looked up towards Ripley in delight. “I mean the one who glued the sign.” When Ripley looked back to the helpful Hoffi, there were now a dozen other Hoffi’s wanting praise. “I’ll meet all of you in an impromptu Hoffi Garden when this is done, ok? I have a flight to catch.”

Sombra mulled over a technical manual at the commentary table overlooking a large holographic map of the artificial environments within the arena. “Whoever heard of System67?” She turned the book upside down without much difference. “These guru meditations had better not be literal.” Ripley walked into the press room. “You’re late, chica. I hope this magitech thing never takes off or I’ll be out of a job.” Every other member of the Overwatch team had been asked to deploy as part of the show of ‘force’ during the event. “Those script kiddies in the NSA wouldn’t know a phishing link from a RAT exploit.”

“Off the record, the most important assets are actually here.” Ripley attempted to reassure her co-commentator. “You might need to hack something unknown in the event of the Hawkmoths trying to activate a mental dominator.” Sombra laughed at the candid admission. “I don’t know the first thing about magitech either. My sister would say to kick it a few times.”

“No, I’d say kick it a few times and THEN shoot it.” Claire entered through a hidden panel in one of the walls. “It’s pretty hard to run the security detail in a place still under construction.” She preemptively performed a bit of ‘acoustic maintenance’ [AKA: Kicking] on the machine to vent her frustration. Surprisingly, that action made the map boot up properly. “I got it to work?”

“It looks that way and I’m not going to question it. Then again…” Sombra ran a diagnostic hack on the strange technology. “It doesn’t appear to be a vat of brains al pastor.”

“Thanks, sis!” Ripley pulled Claire into a hug mostly as an excuse to whisper in her ear. “I thought you were going to be positioned at the President’s discretion.”

“Apparently, he and the CBS execs agreed that I was needed here. Washington and Langley [CIA] are pissed at the LoRI about this. They want Riela at the ready to act should any anthro asset go rogue.” Claire broke off the hug after whispering back. She jostled her car keys so that Ripley could hear the miniaturized Valkyria artifact clang. “We’re free to drop the ‘cousin’ act around Sombra, right? I’ve never exactly been myself around the Overwatch members.”

“Si, kinda hard to keep secrets from a hacker with access to a time machine.” Sombra stated coyly. “It’s nice to see the Rees Hermanas getting along. You know, there’s a theory on-line that bad things happen when things are strained at your home. How’s your mother?”

“She turned us into plush dolls following an argument about baseball teams during the Dodgers and Mets series.” Ripley began her preflight checks. “Then we stood up her LAN party by accident. I found her dressed as a CoD operator on our Holodeck three days later rambling about Nicki Minaj.”

“Ah! That’s why she didn’t fly you in, Ripley.” Sombra casually placed some crypto on a bet that an incursion event would happen. “Whatever happens, let’s try to enjoy the spectacle.” Sombra added a few extra digits to Tracer’s life insurance policy payout amount. “Do we know who our third chair will be?”

“Hang onto your tentacles!” Callie, of the Squid Sisters, barged through the door. “It’s Inkopolis news time!” She struck her ‘stay fresh’ pose expectantly. An awkward silence made her break from the pose to shout towards the door. “Marie, you told me to hype up your introduction!”

“I’m not a morning squid.” Marie, wearing a very casual ‘I woke up like this’ outfit, yawned on her way in. “Stay fresh… whatever.” She plopped into one of the chairs and dozed off. Callie vibrated in excitement. “Yeah, you’re fresh and could pass for the real Callie. Give me another half hour to sleep.”

“You got it, Marie! That’s a massive compliment from you.” ‘Callie’ distorted into a buxom blonde human female wearing a maid outfit. “Now I can take the rest of your meal orders.” She conjured an order ticket pad into her hands. “I’m Dina and I’ll be personally handling your orders today on behalf of my personal food truck. Please have a valid ID ready for any alcohol requests.” Dina pulled a ‘remove before flight’ tag from the back of Ripley’s outfit. “I can’t serve you any alcohol until after you’ve landed, Ripley-chan~”

“Yeah, I think it is time!” Ripley jumped out the window without much warning. She ascended rapidly in an interception trajectory.

Team Zeydaan Locker Room

“I didn’t think DM was being serious about the possibility of airstrikes.” Zach couldn’t believe that a plane was almost breaking the sound barrier overhead. The Hawkmoths had gathered in one of the locker rooms to help Zeydaan prepare for whatever might come today. “Today is a new chance to truly leave an impression!” He stood on a bench to grab the others’ attention. “I have a good feeling about the exhibition. We’ll have so many eyes on us!”

“Yeah, they’ll also have their fingers on the triggers for their dark arsenal.” Alvis ran thousands of possible outcomes in his head. “If Zeydaan wins, the humans see us as a threat that needs to be wiped out. If Zeydaan loses, we’re seen as weak and ready for conquest.”

“I prefer the scenario where we fight our way out.” Lilith licked her lips. “They’re all so bloody scared of us. I could take out half of the LoRI to send a message.” She unzipped her jacket; an unofficial shirt depicted her looking like a complete monster. “I bought one and stole five others.”

Ashley looked up from a copy of War of the Worlds, the only book from the sewer hideout, to make sense of a reference in a newspaper. “Oh, THAT’S what Thunder Child means.” She read the article again. “The humans seem to expect Emily to fight to the death unless…” She held up a confusing political cartoon depicting Emily as an octopus/boat and Zeydaan as a steam engine train on a barge. “Tugging us along? What does this even mean?”

“It’s some low-information cartoonist who traced a meme from social media.” Vanessa put down her phone. “We need to put a wet blanket on the menace right now.” Razor barged into the locker room at the worst possible time. "You!" Vanessa pointed towards their guest. “Why the fuck did you need to imply to that the Hawkmoths mind controlled him? You're just feeding into the narrative that the team is made up of crazed androids, monsters and powerful dark wizards. Aluminum foil and metal colanders are sold out in every major city.”

"I mean, they're not wrong, but that doesn't mean we're the bad guys. Besides, those deterrents aren’t even effective ways to thwart mind control.” Zeydaan spoke from personal experience. “You just need a strong sense of self!” They spoke in Nia’s voice.

“Alvis, ready an escape portal.” Ashley stated coldly.

“That’s uncalled for.” Zeydaan objected. “I can truly let loose out there without fear of scaring the general public.” They opened the top buttons of their uniform. “I was only slipping into Nia for properly syncing her core crystal!” The wolf cycled through a number of forms. “I just need to follow my plan and Emily will need to concede!”

Meanwhile, in Emily’s Locker Room…

Dr. Sarah Voss walked into the dim space where Emily was meant to be preparing. “Em? Are you here?” Sarah used her phone’s flashlight to scan for indications that Emily hadn’t arrived yet. The complimentary food basket was savaged and Emily’s preferred morning sodas were already empty. “If the lighting isn’t finished yet, we can have the Hoffi’s wheel in a power bank.” A glint of pink in the corner reassured Sarah somewhat. “There you are, Em! I need to perform the vitals check ahead of competition. Let me get the light.” The wiring for the switch had been torn from the walls.

“I’ve seen horrors… Some that you’ve seen…” Emily sounded like a woman possessed. “But you have no right to judge me.” She paced around Sarah. “It’s impossible to describe the necessity to those who do not know what horror truly means. Horror is either your friend or something to be feared. I remember when I first outed shapeshifting. It feels almost centuries ago now. Within the year, I watched my eldest daughter die. Then, when she came back to life, I was just told to smile and move on. Live the narrative generated to let the general public sleep.”

“Em, your close friends know some of what you’ve been through. As your doctor/vet, I know you bottle up a lot to keep up the crafted persona.” Sarah understood that Emily was too volatile to touch. “I know this fight wasn’t your choice and you accepted to fulfill that public expectation.”

“I’ve given them all that I can give; I cried and wept like a child. Then I realized… Then I realized that those dragons that killed her were only following orders. They were so committed to their cause that they also kept fighting beyond death. Still… the average person can’t fathom that Hell is a real place or that consciousness is a state of awareness rather than an on/off switch. They’re stuck in the cave watching the shadows we tell them to believe. They want this pure and absolute protector without understanding what that entails. They seek to judge what they will never understand. Judgment is what defeats us.”

“Em, Zeydaan isn’t one of those dragons.” Sarah flinched thinking on where Emily’s train of thought might go. “They also aren’t that girl who made you lash out in 2014. Lightning is you at your most… unpredictable.”

“The crowd wants a fight and I’ll give them one.” Emily waved her hand to remotely mend the damaged wiring. The locker room lit up in an instant. “I’ll be fine, Sarah. I needed to tell that to someone who knows the real me.” She sat down on the bench for the vitals assessment.

“Arm, please.” Sarah placed a blood pressure monitor cuff around Emily’s upper right arm. “Langley reviewed Zey’s incident report to give them and TAB [Transformation Affairs Bureau] a chance to assess risk. Your field reports from prior encounters were very useful in testing. It’s a shame that you weren’t able to secure any physical samples from ‘Nicole’.” Sarah wrote down the blood pressure reading. “88/88. You don’t need to be so cheeky about changing your blood pressure on the fly, Em.”

“Did you find any energy projection abilities beyond normal magic?” Emily stuck out her tongue for Sarah to check her mouth for any match contraband.

“No. There’s an X factor risk in a later round because our understanding of exotic magic is lacking. That’s the downside to a trial by fire against existential magic threats.” Sarah lifted Emily’s tongue. “The Cavan Coven’s analysis is inconclusive beyond fatal options.” Sarah closed Emily’s mouth. “Off the record, I’d use Lightning early on. You coming out like a total magic-spewing psycho in Round 1 would put many agencies at ease.” Sarah readied a reflex hammer. “Reflexes are next.”

“Didn’t you just tell me not to use…” Emily’s voice abruptly shifted thanks to Sarah striking the right reflex. “Why did I ever tell you about my hair-trigger forms?” She had involuntarily shifted back into Lightning in the blink of an eye. Sarah performed a chef’s kiss gesture. “Why are you telling me two completely different things, Serah?” Lightning groaned from the error. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“It was deliberate, Light.” Sarah’s form became close enough to Serah Farron, Lightning’s younger sister, for her to pull off the voice and mannerisms. “You didn’t start this fight, but I know you will finish it. Show everyone that side only a select few know.” Sarah ran a hand through Lightning’s hair. “I’ll intervene if there’s a medical emergency or things get dicey enough. The public thinks you’re going into a cage fight against an animal. Show them what ‘mama bear’ Lightning is truly capable of.” She injected a sedative that shifted Emily back to her base form. “I’ll leave you to change into your entrance outfit privately.”

Live Broadcast – 1:00 PM EST

“What is transformation?” William Shatner narration began over a montage depicting scientific discoveries, natural phenomenon and shapeshifters in action. “Is it an action, a state of being or a lifestyle? As we find ourselves questioning the essence of transformation, we face changes of all kinds. Established notions challenged, the impossible tamed and the very nature of ourselves in flux. The last five years have introduced strange new worlds, new forms of life and gone beyond what we thought was the Final Frontier. We now present a battle from the fringes of our dimension: a fight over the figurehead for the Transformation Age. Let’s meet our commentary crew.”

The camera feed changed over to the room where Ripley, Sombra and Marie sat at commentary. Ripley’s outfit now consisted of the t-shirt she bought earlier and F-35 patterned sleep pants. “Thanks, Captain Kirk.” Ripley took the lead on introductions. “I’m Ripley Rees alongside ‘Sombra’ Colomar and Marie from the hit act, The Squid Sisters, to oversee this event that’s shaping up to be something special.”

“Some of you are used to sporting events having multiple matches on the card. However, things are going to be a bit different here because we want to leave no margin for error. Our competitors are going to endure the shapeshifting equivalent of a triathlon in the three matches to come.” Sombra was clearly reading from a holo-projection of a prompter. “Why don’t you tell us about the combatants, Marie?”

“Emily Rees will be taking on another shapeshifter that we have yet to receive final confirmation of.” Marie held up a piece of paper at random. “I’m getting confirmation that the fighter is indeed a wolf named Zeydaan and they are in the building right now. We’ll have the first direct video of Zeydaan in segments to come. Don’t touch that dial!”

“In the meantime, we’ll discuss the rules that were agreed upon.” Ripley cut to a feed showing a slideshow from earlier. “Rule 1: No killing or maiming each other. Round ends when one combatant is unable to continue. Rule 2: No outside items or non-medical interventions. Rule 3: Starting region is picked at random and, upon the end of the round, is taken out of rotation. Finally, Rule 4: Since this is a show of transformation ability, the competitors aren’t allowed to transform each other. Their transformed states are allowed to engage in direct combat.”

“That’s a pretty big change in rules from the last televised transformation event, isn’t it?” Marie chimed in. “What changed?”

Ripley brought up the CBS Sports memo to read the exact wording. “Ahem. CBS Sports views itself on the cutting edge of Transformation sporting events and tailored this event for non-stop excitement. No squash matches or tournaments in this collision of shapeshifters.” Ripley audibly cleared her throat. “There are also a few additional rules meant to force the competitors to…” She leaned towards Marie. “Marie, what’s the line?”

“Oh, stay fresh!” Marie overreacted in a frantic version of the corresponding pose. “Once Emily or Zeydaan use a form, that form becomes locked out for the remainder of the match. We’ll have exclusive interviews between rounds. In terms of banned options, she isn’t allowed to use any current or former idols from Splatoon. The judges determined that idol ink is just different enough that replication would be an unfair advantage.”

“We go to the hologram for the regions in play, chicas.” Sombra kicked the hologram unit. “We are currently in the staging grounds located to the far west of the pocket dimension. The fighters will make their entrances to the ring here to allow the live audience to see the competitors. There are eight regions in play: Toy Town, Winter Wonderland, Soleanna, Manhattan 1984, Summertown Mall, Inkopolis Outskirts, The Cloud Sea, and The Fae Wilds. We’ll spin for the starting location in Round 1 shortly.”

“Wasn’t Soleanna the city from Sonic 06?” Ripley checked her notes. “Let’s read the official description. Soleanna is an Italian-inspired city-state located around water. Although known for its long waiting times, the physics here are considered unreal. Assets provided courtesy of SEGA.”

“Oh, we’re just reading these descriptions now?” Marie took a card at random. “Greetings from Toy Town! The ToYBoX Corporation invites you to a former ghost town repurposed into the Hoffi’s personal playground. Three distinct lanes of travel make this neighborhood great for all types of fun!”

“Isn’t that just Nuketown?” Sombra zoomed in on the sign that had been graffitied to read ‘POPULATION: FUN’. “Can’t beat a classic, I suppose.” She read from the next card. “Manhattan 1984 covers that distinct gritty feeling of New York from the 80’s. Content ranges from Raging Bull to Ghostbusters II and everything in-between. This is the New York City your dad or grandfather wishes he could forget.”

“Gee, who do you think influenced that area’s inclusion?” Ripley rolled her eyes. Mom’s insistence on referencing Ghostbusters was pretty much an obvious marker at this point. “Summertown Mall was local teens’ favorite hangout from 1980 to 2005. Combat would take place in the off hours to avoid colliding into teen drama. Stay out of the backrooms unless you want Darcy on your tail.” She put down the card. “Who’s Darcy?”

“Dunno, chica.” Sombra shrugged. “You’re the one who inexplicably knows everyone. Who did you get to spin the wheel, by the way?”

“Oh! I almost forgot to announce the spinners! We cut live to my sister Claire interviewing members of the LoRI at the location board.”

Stage Select Venue

Claire, wearing a tacky copy of Marie’s performing dress, finished her microphone check. “Thanks, Rip. I’m here with DM, leader of the LoRI, and the member to blame for this event: Razor. Which precautions have been taken to ensure the Hawkmoths aren’t another Salem-tier threat?” She held the microphone up for DM to comment.

Razor grabbed the microphone. “What a great question! We can’t exactly say who or what is where, but let me show something to those of you in the stadium and at home.” He whistled in a strange pitch. A solid-mass projectile knocked Claire’s hat off. “I didn’t know until earlier that Em knows so many snipers! Who wants to see them spin the wheel with bullets?”

DM abruptly grabbed the microphone back. “What Razor is trying to say is that we’ve taken major precautions in the event area, in Manhattan, in New Haven, along the coasts and even in space. If my word isn’t enough to put you at ease, let me show you an overnight package from the UK.” A crew of Hoffi’s brought in a large shipping crate that was already opened. DM dipped his free hand into the crate, pulled a broadsword from the container and let the cameras have a moment to capture the weapon’s elegance. “If it hadn’t been for that ‘only Ruby can kill her’ prophecy, this would have slain Salem.”

“Excalibur is nice, but you bring up a very valid concern.” Claire leaned in towards the microphone. “Where is Ruby Rose if Zey were to do something as tasteless as transforming into Salem?”

“Yo, switchboard jockeys! Give us Rocket Number 9.” Razor blurted out. The video feed on the hologram map showing the locations changed to a live feed from somewhere in space. Ruby Rose was enjoying a double chunk chocolate cookie until she noticed the camera was on. “Rubes, show the viewers where you are.”

“Hi, Mark! Hi, Razor! Hi, watchers!” Ruby positioned her webcam towards a viewing port that showed the Earth down below. “I could be anywhere on the planet in…” She turned to ask someone offscreen. “Weissy, what was our best time? Was it seventy or seventeen? Oh, ok. I got it!” She positioned the webcam in selfie position. “Seventeen seconds.”

“Anything you want to say to the fighters from space, Ruby?” Claire asked.

“Everyone knows my dynamic with wolves. Why wouldn’t I be #TeamLori? Most of us are apart from Blake. She’s still mad at Razor over him owing her. How much money was it, Blake?” Razor gestured for the feed to be cut.

“So…” Claire tried her best to play off the banter. “Apart from the sniper options, do you know which of you is going to spin?”

“Yeah, me!” Razor smugly spun the wheel. Two full rotations brought the result of ‘Toy Town’ for the starting area. “Round One will happen in Toy Town.”

[SPONSOR BREAK]

Grey Ryder stood in front of a massive pile of money. “You wanna win a lot of money? Then you got to take big risks!” She held up a folded piece of paper. “Before taking a big risk, I had to toil away in a cannery. Now? Now I have a giant pile of money! Buy my secret to success for only $59.99 weekly for two bloody years. You’d be daft not to buy! Call now, wanker!”

Back to the Studio

“For those of you just tuning in, we have our first stage rolled. Toy Town is where our competitors will first meet.” Ripley led the segment. “#TeamHawkmoths is the highest trending topic in the Western world. In a far off second place is the New York Jets firing another major employee. CBS News will cover that story later.”

“Can we begin to speculate on what their battle plan is going into this fight?” Sombra brought up holograms comparing the known physical factors of the two fighters. “Ripley’s personal bias means she can’t give you the real deets. Emily and Zeydaan are both leaner builds who rely on unorthodox transformations to compensate for deficiencies in their base forms. I’m going to give the unadjusted speed advantage to Zeydaan because we don’t know if they’re capable of Mobian speed and even a natural wolf’s top speed in the 30 mph range outpaces Emily’s unaugmented speed. Emily’s main advantage going into the battle is her fundamentals. People on the #TeamHawkmoths tag have shown countless videos that show just how comfortable and easily she shifts between forms. Zey’s technical prowess remains a big unknown in this matchup. What do you feel about the matchup, Marie?”

Marie channeled her radio show act. “If I’ve learned anything from Tokusplatsu [pun on Tokusatsu], it is that we can’t gauge how a battle will turn out from the start. Zeydaan’s the hot trend this week, yet there’s nothing saying they aren’t just the ‘monster of the week’. If Emily has the taste to imsquidsonate me for so long, she has a game plan already. Charger and brella mains in Inkopolis need to be three steps ahead of opponents if they want to survive against the current ‘meta’ weapon.”

Ripley cleared her throat to cut the Splatoon talk short. “We are just minutes away from the fighters making their entrances. Emily Rees has opted to enter second because she promises an entrance that will make the most of this dimension.” Sombra changed the feed to give a drone view of the audience. “The 50,000 people in attendance are waiting to see whatever Zeydaan and the Hawkmoths have in store for their next public appearance. Before the festivities begin formally, we must hear the safety presentation for this venue.”

The feed changed to a view of Kikai in a stewardess outfit within the arena itself. “This arena has a multitude of safety systems in place for your protection. In the event of a fire, walk towards the nearest exit for immediate return to the hub area in Central Park.” Kikai demonstrated the path towards safety. “If an incursion should occur, pull the cosmic ejection seat tabs under your seat. Be aware that departure via cosmic ejection will not allow you to return to the arena. Additionally, if you see something suspicious, tell a member of staff. We’ll do our best to resolve issues with overwhelming force.” Kikai brandished a gun much larger than her body. “On behalf of the League of Random Insanity, the US Space Force and New York Athletic Commission, we hope you have a safe viewing experience. Thank you.”

1:25 PM

The area surrounding the arena took on an artificial impression of night to maximize the effectiveness of the lighting tricks and pyrotechnics. “The following contest is your main event for the evening.” Ripley’s voice echoed through the speakers positioned within the arena. All of the technical crews preparing the ring made announcing from that location impractical. “Scheduled for two fall, the next challenge is a three round match to determine the Figurehead of Transformation. Entering first is the challenger, hailing from parts unknown, Zeydaan.”

Zeydaan and the Hawkmoths walked down the entrance ramp while an original track played. People in the crowd sounded almost disappointed at the lack of theatrics. Zey grabbed a microphone from a fixed position and began to talk. “I want you all to listen to me. There’s a lot that I want to get off my chest. I don't often make public appearances, nor speeches. In our world, we are seen as monsters, deviants, terrorists. But form and transformation allows me to look past that- experience joy and catharsis. I am here to prove that this feat myself and my opponent share is not to be overlooked” Zey sprouted wings to fly above the audience.

“But, I'm not above putting on a show. As an official invitee, I will show you things you can hardly believe and have you thank me by the end. And I will show you my way." Zey hovered far enough away from the ramp that the other Hawkmoths were able to make their way into the crowd without drawing too much attention. “I’m going to show you things that you hardly believe and have you thanking me by the end.”Zey buzzed the arena; the crowd a flood of camera flashes. Eventually, Zey swooped down to the middle of the ring. Bean was clearly struggling to not focus on the lights.

“You have it there, folks. Zeydaan is in the ring and already making a huge impression.” Marie said over commentary. “We’ve seen confirmation that they can fly. Will that factor into the battle or was the flourish to make a strong impression?”

“Time will tell. Zey and Em’s morning meals were strictly regulated to give them a similar amount of Calories to pull from. Showolfship like that may cost Zey in the first round.” Ripley interjected. “Doctor Voss informed us over the break that Emily was in deep meditation up until a few minutes ago.”

Ripley’s voice rang through the arena speakers again. “And their opponent...” A ‘jumbotron’ straight out of the 1990’s floated down from the night’s sky to above the ring. “Is your reigning Queen of Transformation, from New Haven, CT… Emily Rees!” The TV turned onto a vintage on-air recording from MTV. The sample ‘I want my MTV’ from “Money For Nothing” played over the classic channel logo. The music video for “Rock You Like a Hurricane” by the Scorpions began to play on the massive television. No sign of Emily on the entrance ramp made the audience and cameras watch the music video. Something was off… The lighting was too good for something from the 80’s and the ‘alluring cat woman’ was sporting an appearance vaguely resembling Emily’s attire. It was then that the screens unfolded: the multi-dimensional nature of the venue meant that Emily was able to pull The Scorpions via 1984 for a live performance. The song went as planned until the band held the note right before the chorus.

The lights focused on the entrance ramp. “HERE I AM.” Emily emerged wearing an entrance outfit taking major inspiration from female Alear [Fire Emblem Engage]. “ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE!” Emily spun around to accompany the lyric in the song. Pyrotechnics went off in rapid succession. The pink and blue smoke billowed out in the sky above the arena. “My body is burning, it starts to shout.” Emily held her title belt over her head in the ring. “The wolf is hungry, he runs this show.” Emily shook her head at the lyric. “The octo’s hungry, she runs this show.” She nodded in approval as she handed the belt to the referee.

Emily and Zey locked eyes from their respective corners in the ring. Both combatants opted to remove their entrance attires during the second half of the song. Zey opened their adventuring outfit's pockets to give the judges a chance to check for any banned items. Nothing proved to be out of regulation. In contrast, Emily had opted for an entirely non-transformative outfit. She removed the red and blue wig, tossed it into the crowd, and revealed an entirely different outfit underneath the entrance jacket and leggings. Ripley let out a small gasp on commentary. “It appears that Emily is wearing her old outfit for this fight. Those of you from Columbia University might remember that Emily wore this look daily throughout her undergraduate program. She’s hungry to prove herself again in this matchup."

"Sorry about this whole thing becoming a media circus." Zeydaan felt one of the judges check their tail for smuggled items. "Handshake?" They held out their hand for Emily to shake.

"Yeah." Emily returned the gesture. "Humor the coin toss because the Network demanded it."

Patrick Stewart and a Hoffi wearing a Star Trek costume entered the ring. Patrick Stewart took a microphone from a technical roadie. “Both combatants were informed of the rules in their locker rooms. Number One Hoffi, present the briefcase.” Hoffi pulled out a briefcase from a pocket dimension, pulled a novelty coin from the case and held up the coin towards Patrick Stewart for inspection. “Fighters, what we have here is a coin sporting two sides.” He checked the coin to make sure Hoffi hadn’t altered it. “Professor Rees, it will be yours to call in the air. Are you two ready?” Emily and Zey nodded. “Number One, make it so.” Number One Hoffi flipped the coin.

“Heads!” Emily called in the air. The coin landed on Heads.

“Will you transform first or let Zeydaan transform first?” Patrick Stewart held the microphone up to Emily.

“Zeydaan will get to transform first.” Emily adjusted her glasses to maximize reflective glare. “That is what people on social media want. I am no stranger to giving the Internet what they want.”

“Very well.” Patrick Stewart returned the coin to the briefcase. “Without further ado, set a course for Toy Town.” A large portal opened at an unoccupied corner of the ring. “Engage.” Emily and Zeydaan ran through the portal to the first battle arena.

‘Toy Town’ – 1:38 PM

Zeydaan emerged first on the ground level of a cul-de-sac. Two similar houses were positioned across the street and multiple vehicles were parked on the road. Zey heard footsteps from one of the house already. An assortment of grinning mannequins positioned around a grill gave Zey an idea how to demonstrate the elegance of shapeshifting. They didn’t quite care for the 50’s Americana aesthetic, yet opted to blend in. Hovering drone cameras captured all the angles of Zey shrinking down into a dog mannequin positioned near the doll that was sunbathing. Total immersion in the environment!

Emily emerged from the nearby house shortly after Zey’s adaptation to the environment concluded. The drones gave away the general location of where Zey was, but the small nature of the map already left few hiding spaces. “Hm, I wonder where my opponent might be?” She acted like the hostess on a children’s show. “The thing about ToYBoX toys is that they’re optimized for rough play.” Without any warning, she kicked the head off from one of the mannequins. “They take a hit and just keep smiling.” One of the drones captured footage of the rolling head. “Let’s see if the sunbather has any clues.” Emily’s bluff had made the ‘new addition’ scurry into the other house. “That house has never had a door before.”

Emily's suspicions about Zey's movements had forced the wolf to adapt on the fly. Assuming the form of a door on one of the houses proved the safest option in the moment. "Hmm..." Emily slowly approached the door. "Here I was thinking that we were on a toy version of Nuketown. How would I be able to quickly get through that lane if there's a door?" She put her hands on the doorknob, turned the handle and pulled. Much to her surprise, the door was no longer Zey's form.

Rustling across the street brought her eyes towards an archway positioned in front of the open garage. "Ok, how did they do that?" She was getting tired of the prop hunt already. Rather than head over to the new archway, she returned to where the sunbather was. She figured that a feint would make Zey engage her soon enough. The addition of sunglasses to the mannequin made it look somewhat like a character from an animated short. "I know some toy that's going to sunny Miami." Emily looked back towards the garage to find that the archway was gone. She readied herself for the shift to come.

Zeydaan ran up the stairs into the section of the house that overlooked the small neighborhood. Emily was taking her time styling the sunbather to resemble something from a Pixar short. She was, lack of a better term, toying with Zey. Going off instinct, Zey began to transform into a familiar form that rarely let them down. The purple from the adventuring outfit took on a yellow color sporting a ribbed pattern. Leg fur changed into brown stockings that left little to the imagination. The wolf’s ears elongated to a height only practical for ceremonial purposes. Bits of fur on Zey’s face fell off to form a trio of ethereal blades. Light silver hair framed Nia’s face. “Let’s see Emily outdo a queen.” Nia emerged on the windowsill. Emily didn’t break from styling the mannequin. “Are you daft? I have the high ground!”

“Good, you’ve transformed and brought a sword.” Emily grinned as she tore a stop sign from the pavement. The metallic pole and sign effortlessly reformed into a sword in her hands. She skillfully flipped the weapon into a rifle form. A single bullet fired from the rifle narrowly avoided Nia’s ears. “It’s also a gun.” A drone circled overhead to give commentary a chance to process what was coming. “You have your preferred sword and I have mine, Zey.”

“I don’t believe it!” Ripley shouted. “Emily is going to use Lightning! She’s paying tribute to her partner from the Second Battle of New Haven. The Grimm Butcher is in play!”

“We’re seeing Emily take full advantage of the isolated fighting stages. No worry about civilians means that she can truly unleash the force that let her kill a hurricane!” Sombra winked towards Ripley. “Nia may be a queen, but Lightning is on a whole other level. You’re about to see the fury of goddess.”

The crowd was eating up the hyped transformation before it even happened. At least they were apart from the original Nia in the crowd. She hissed against the cheering. "You're not even reacting to Zeydaan being me! Where's the balance in the coverage?"

Back to the Combat

“Are you going to fight or what?” Nia [Zeydaan, to make it clear] attempted to strike during Emily’s attempt at intimidation. Thunder cracking overhead sent Nia back into the security of the house. Her ears rang from the almost point-blank thunder. Emily silently held the sword up towards the sky. Lightning bolts fired so intensely that the blade would act like a lightning rod quickly. A single bolt connected, unloading the whole storm’s energy into Emily. Her glasses shattered from the magnetic discharge. Nia peeked from behind the couch. “Is she dead?” Emily wasn’t moving.

“3… 2… 1….” Emily muttered. An EMP rocked the whole stage and fried the drone. “I don’t know who or what exactly put you up to this.” Her words sounded strained. “As a mother and a guardian, I am obligated to do whatever I must. The Big Bad Wolf must be made an example of.”

“Ye know I'm not just a wolf.” Nia rolled her eyes. She had fought enough monsters and demons to not let a little trash talk throw her off-guard. “Also, call yerself a mistress of transfermation, but you've already gotchaself a nasty bit of Butterfly Syndrome [Fictional disease where someone loses themselves in a transformation] there, EMILY."

“I'm done talking. Lightning will shut you up.” Emily waited for the replacement drone to arrive before letting the changes become apparent. Her blue dress faded into a shade of white accented with tan and brown leather. The tacky fingerless gloves became blue ballistics gloves sporting bullet holders for impromptu hand guards. Bones crunched loud enough for the drone’s microphone to capture. Emily wasn’t bothering to smooth out the transformation or even dull the pain. She wanted to feel every painful moment. Taking the tip of the sword to her ponytail let the hair fall down to her back. Almost instantly, the hair became Lightning’s crimson scarf/cape. The rest of her hair settled into a perfect version of Lightning’s hair style. “We need to give the people what they want, Nia!” Lightning threw Nia against the wall. “They want a fight!”

Nia took a hard slash towards Lightning’s torso. Rather than make Lightning pause, the cut only exposed a L’Cie brand [The in-game excuse for Lightning and the playable party having magic attacks in Final Fantasy XIII] on the chest. Lightning’s retaliation blasted Nia across the street into the second house.

“For those of you left confused, Nia just made Lightning even more powerful.” Ripley explained over commentary. “Lightning is truly capable of living up to the moniker ‘Army of One’.” Lightning’s stoic expression faded out any trace of Emily left. Viewers with a keen eye might have noticed Lightning’s muscle definition and height increase on the way across the street. She magnetically pulled the filming drone behind her. “It would appear that Lightning is staging the camera for a potential finisher. This has been a dominant showing so far.”

“You have an Ouroboros-lite form?” Nia stood her ground from the corner of the second living room. “I’ve faced worse odds many times!” Lightning placed the drone atop a bookcase facing towards the far corner.

Lightning readied her sword in a low swing position. “Time to end this.” She slashed at Nia’s legs, kicked Nia into the wall, took three more slashes towards center mass, fired a pointblank rifle round, flipped forward into two more kicks and cast an explosive spell well within Nia’s personal space. The blast sent Nia into the semi truck parked between buildings. Lightning bolts from the sky rendered the vehicle and trailer into a smoldering pile of debris.

“Remember, kids! Realistic violence is a-ok if there’s no blood!” Marie couldn’t believe this feed remained live on secondary Nickelodeon feed. “Do we know if Nia is able to continue fighting? Lightning is running out of things to slam her into.” Lightning remained in a combat ready position. “Someone call the round already!”

“The match doesn’t end without a pin or a competitor tapping out, chica.” Sombra controlled one of the drones to focus on the debris. There was movement underneath the melted steel. “We’ve got movement.” An emerging angel wing flung a metal panel at the drone. “Nia appears to be transforming. Try to get another drone for a clear view.”

“Good to see you finally taking this seriously.” Lightning watched Sephiroth materialize from the debris. The Masamune was practically half of the block length. Noticing this inconvenience, Sephiroth floated three meters into the air. An uneasy silence was only broken once more drones were in position to capture the fated encounter from more angles.

“It would appear that Zeydaan is fighting Emily on her level.” Ripley quickly scrolled through search results to see if Lightning and Sephiroth had ever fought outside of the Dissidia games. “Take comfort in knowing that they are in a pocket dimension and any ‘end of the world’ attack would only shatter that reality.”

“We didn’t expect to see a final boss this early in the competition.” Marie commented. “They’re simply staring each other down. Neither fighter wants to give the other an opportunity to strike.”

“Where’s your bravado now, Lightning?” Sephiroth taunted. “You’re probably not accustomed to opponents actually adapting to your fighting style, are you? It would almost be a pity if we don’t use this area for its intended purpose.” He began the summoning process for Supernova. A physical charging gauge appeared underneath.

“There’s one thing you forgot to factor in, Sephy.” Lightning triggered her anti-grav unit. He didn’t seem all that intimidated by Lightning’s own hovering. “That’s experience.” Making the most of Sephiroth’s locked animation, Lightning moved behind him, hoisted him onto her shoulders, pulled his head down towards her torso and deactivated the anti-grav. Sephiroth’s head hitting the pavement caused enough of a flinch that the summoning was cancelled. It was in that moment that Sephiroth finally took notice of the discrepancy in their levels. He was locked at 50 while Lightning was 99. Lightning laid him down on the ground, turned her attention to the school bus and suplexed the vehicle onto Sephiroth. “That’s my bravado, loser.” She pinned Sephiroth to the pavement.

“Unbelievable!” Sombra gasped. “She comboed Kenny Omega’s finisher against the original One-Winged Angel and then suplexed a school bus on top of that!”

“Sephiroth is unable to continue fighting.” Riela Marcellis, one of Claire’s borrowed alter egos, appeared on the battlefield in referee attire. “Lightning wins the round!” She hoisted Lightning’s right hand up towards the drone.

Sarah and other medical staff entered through a portal into the combat zone. The trauma team attempted to put Sephiroth onto a stretcher, but the efforts only angered him. Nia ran through the portal, smacked Sephiroth across the face and hissed. "What was that? Makin me look like a daft fool?" The berating was enough to revert Sephiroth to Zeydaan's default form. Mercifully, Sarah intervened through leading Zey and Emily to the ready area between rounds. "Oi, I was just getting started!"

“That concludes Round One in favor of Emily Rees.” Ripley sounded quite relieved. “We will be back after these messages to find out where Round Two will take place.”