Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Trent hummed as he tapped his fingers against his keyboard, trying to consciously wiggle his ears against the discomfort of his headset. He sighed after a moment. “Dude, this is so fucked. I can’t believe that Oldmeme’s brother just fucking slapped us with that thoughtless message. I mean, I get being broken up about what happened, but he could’ve had some delicacy.”

A harsh, mirthless bark of laughter rasped from the other end of the call. “I think you might be asking a bit much from that guy.” Johan gave a tired sigh. “But seriously, what the fuck? Oldman just…what, vanished? Did he get fucking—no, I’m not gonna even put that out there. God, I hope he’s okay.”

“Agreed,” Trent said, his hand wrapping into a fist to knock against the table. “I’m more just wondering what the fuck he meant by disappeared. His brother’s accent was a bit thick, so what’re the chances that we misunderstood?”

There was a rustling noise from the other end. “Honestly? I’d give it a solid maybe. There’s really not enough information for me to say.”

“And the guy we’d normally ask is apparently missing ,” Trent groaned as he leaned back in his seat. “I’d say the upside is that no one else is missing, but that’s a real fucking bitter taste.”

Johan made a disgusted noise. “One fucking tarnished silver lining, that’s for damn sure.”

“I don’t-” Trent stopped and sighed, his head falling forward. “I don’t know what to do, really. As much as I want to try and just… do something , it feels pretty fucking hollow right now.”

“Don’t I fucking know it…” Johan said, trailing off tiredly. “I’m sure you’re feeling as fucking helpless as I am.”

“Hell yeah, brother!” Trent hollered, turning to look at the rum and coke he’d poured. He didn’t usually like alcohol, but it felt appropriate. “I just… I have no idea what to do. Like… where do we go from here?”

“I…I…” Johan’s voice grew choked. “I don’t fucking know, man. I just don’t know.” A wet sob came across the connection. “Sorry,” Johan said wetly, before sniffing.

“It’s fine, dude,” Trent said, his tone sober. “Like… this is just so fucked up. You… I don’t blame you for choking up.” Reaching down, he took a sip of his drink as he stared at his computer. Tapping his fingers against his keyboard, the blond rumbled, “How about a topic change? I- I can’t focus on this.”

Johan let out a long sigh. “Mmm, I feel you. Uh, let’s see…been having weirdly vivid dreams lately…” He trailed off and was silent for a few moments, probably mustering his voice. “Usually I only remember the fucked up ones, but these were just… images , I guess? Of landscapes…pretty ones, but ones I don’t recognize.”

“Huh, reminds me of some of the ones I’ve been having,” Trent grunted, leaning back as his hand balled into a fist and knocking a few times. “Some real Shire and Lord of the Rings ass vistas. It’s kinda jarring, as that’s all I remember. Like, I think I saw a dragon or something? But there weren’t really events to latch on to…”

“Huh. I dunno about dragons,” Johan mused, “but I swear I saw a bigass bird in one of mine; like a roc, maybe? I dunno.” He gave a weak chuckle. “Weird we’re both dreaming about fantasy lands, though.”

“Agreed, my dreams are usually more… down to earth but surreal,” Trent grunted, casting his mind onto what he had dreamed of. “It’s just… I dunno. The world was nice to look at though.”

“Yeah, that’s true—” Johan’s voice cut off for a moment. “—Hold on, I think I heard something downstairs.” 

“Aight,” Trent hummed as he leaned back, wincing slightly at the burst of static. He let his mind wander, only to start as there was a distant crash. Realizing it came through the line, he asked, “Xan? You alright, dude?”

There were more distant sounds, like crashing, voices, and what he was fairly sure was a scream. “Xan? Johan?!”

The line went dead, and the blond stared at his computer.

“What the fuck just happened?! ”

Trent wanted to scream as he got confirmation that Johan had disappeared alongside Alphonse. His hands pulled into fists as he swallowed the desire to just whale on a wall, blinking tears from his eyes, he pulled himself from his computer and all but stormed away from it.

He pulled at the neck of his shirt, gasping as he tried to breathe.

His friends were just disappearing.

He had told Johan’s mother what little he had heard over the last call he had with the lad, the strange noises and sounds. It hadn’t helped much, as there had been no evidence of anything occurring.

The blond swallowed a poisonous feeling in his gut as he slipped on his boots and headed for the door. He needed to go outside, to get some fresh air, to breathe.

Opening the door, he was about to turn and lock it when he realized that he had seemingly stepped into an empty void. He turned to head back for his door when he realized that it had seemingly shot into the distance.

Looking around, Trent swore. He wasn’t sure if he should be panicking or running, there was also the question of whether or not he was suffering from a stress hallucination.

A mask loomed from the darkness, crosses hatched over its eyes and a long tongue hanging from its mouth. A dull red cloak wrapped around its form, obscuring almost all of its body.

“What the fuck ?” Trent asked, staring up at the monster. Blinking he slapped his arms, and then stared at his hands.

They looked normal. They looked normal .

“Ah shit, this isn’t a dream,” the Canadian grumbled.

“That’d be right, buckaroo!” the figure chortled, a sleeve flopping down with a hand popping out comically. It opened to showcase an item, which caused Trent to relax.

It was just a die. That wasn’t worrying.

“Now let’s see how many we get!” the strange clown cackled, closing its hand and shaking it vigorously.

“Wait, stop!” Trent barked, suddenly worried about what the thing had said.

“Okay!” It barked, and released the die, sending it dancing across the ground. A single dot stared into the heavens and the thing bobbed its mask. “Just you, my guy! Let’s get going!”

Its cloak swept open to reveal a massive steel gate, which opened inwards to reveal a blinding gateway.

Trent turned to try and run, only to feel an iron grip on the back of his shirt and started to drag him backwards. “Oh god, oh fuck, what the hell!”

“Have a nice trip,” the thing remarked, sounding cheerful as could be. “Next stop for you: MÄR-Heaven!”

The gate closed as Trent fell through it, followed by the cloak snapping shut. As that faded into the darkness, it was followed by the mask. Finally, the darkness subsided, revealing the hallway of Trent’s apartment.

The clown mask fell, shattering to nothing against the carpet.

A boy, or rather, a teen walked on the shore. His clothes would have seemed strange to most normal people; black pants were normal enough, but his shoes had metal framing on the outside, with large bolts where shoelaces would be keeping it in place, and a white shirt with a zipper in place of buttons, with white straps blocking the slider, along with zipped on short sleeves. His hair was spiky, and colored an almost black shade of blue, both his hands were decorated with several rings, and from his side, a chain of silver totem poles hung loosely, either end hidden by his shirt.

A Kingdom Hearts character, some could say, but where he was, no one would even know what that was, nor would they bat an eye at his choice of clothes.

The teen had a grim expression as he looked at his index finger. In his mind, he could see the priceless treasure that had been passed on to him, but now it was nothing but dust.

It had worked, he knew as much. The problem was that it didn't go according to plan. He failed to summon the person in question in front of him, and he broke the Dimension ÄRM besides. It stung, but now there was nothing else he could do but to return and give the news.

He wasn't sure what he would tell Master Gaira.

As he drew near, he heard the clash of steel. It didn't disturb him as he approached the cove, and moving past the rocky outcropping, he laid eyes upon them.

The one the teen called Master Gaira was a stern-looking old man with a severe expression. He had grey hair slicked back and spiking backwards, thick eyebrows and a bushy mustache with a gap in the middle. His dark blue zhì-fú shirt had white leather straps securing it on the right side of his chest, and it was decorated by two crossing white lines and a red sash wrapped around his waist.

Just in front of him, there was another man, much younger than him. He was dressed in a white poet's blouse, with a black suit vest and pants, along with a crimson cape. He wore a gold crown, though perhaps it would be best called a circlet with large, upwards spikes and a notch for a gem on its center. 

To complete the ensemble, he brandished an elegant, basket-hilted rapier with his left hand. Inscribed down its length were the words "I advise you to comply".

Alviss watched as the man's rapier shot out towards Master Gaira's chest, but was diverted by his palm. The blade returned and lunged again at another spot, undeterred. Master Gaira repeated the motion over and over as the two continued. Each time the hand touched the blade, the sound of metal on metal rang out. 

The man with the crown swiped at Master Gaira, keeping distance and moving quickly to harry him at various angles, but each strike was parried with ease. After a few more probing exchanges, Master Gaira tried to close the gap between the two.

Just as he tried, the other man swiped at the ground, lifting less than a handful of sand towards the Master's face. A vain gesture, when he prepared to shoulder check him. The swordsman leapt, vaulting over the master's back with a hand over his back, before swinging down and slamming his leg upon the master hard enough to push him back. 

Master Gaira had something of a grin on his face when that happened. The other man didn't quite share in his cheer. 

Alviss approached and cleared his throat, having found the right opportunity to cut in.

"Master Gaira. I've returned." Alviss said as the two turned to him. The Master seemed rather pleased by his return. The other man less so.

"Alviss, good to see you." The old man greeted him. "I've managed to make great progress in Alphonse's training."

"I saw," Alviss nodded. "He's finally competent enough to fight."

Alphonse twirled the rapier between his fingers, before it dispersed into motes of light and reassembled into an ornate bracelet with a sharp mask motif around his hand. 

He then gave the teen his best one-finger salute and sardonic smile. "Happy to see you too, childboy." 

Alviss rolled his eyes at the childish barb, focusing entirely on Master Gaira. 

"What happened, Alviss?" The Master asked as he looked at Alviss with a raised brow.

The teen couldn't help but look away.

"The Gatekeeper Pierrot broke." 

Master Gaira blanched at that, bringing a hand to his chin as he winced.

"Goodness. I didn't think that could happen. Repeated usage must have put stress on it and broken it."

"I'm afraid so." Alviss said while avoiding his gaze. "Worse yet, I couldn't find the summoned man close by."

The situation was rather dire, all told. Alviss felt his nerves fraying as he thought about it. He would be fine, with the way MÄR-Heaven seemed to affect those summoned from another word, but even still, he had to find him as soon as possible.

At his side, the unhelpful bastard laughed loudly, making both him and Master Gaira turn to face him.

"You two are real pieces of work, you know that?" Alphonse said derisively as he shrugged at both of them. "It wasn't enough to kidnap one person, so now you go for a twofer? On a lark? Like it's nothing?"

Gaira closed his eyes while Alviss clenched his teeth. At the silence he lifted his arms and angrily hissed, "Do you want me to help you or alienate me, you fuckers?"

"I'll have you know I didn't feel any resistance when he came in." Alviss shot back.

"Oh, like that makes it any better!" Alphonse glared at Alviss. "Or what, are we gonna pretend that the clown didn't drag me into MÄR-Heaven when I explicitly said no? That shit doesn't care about free will, it cares about its quota."

Alviss was about to lash out at him, but Master Gaira took the next word. "These are dire circumstances, Alphonse. The Chess Pieces have been on the move lately, and some of our own members have gone missing. We're on the cusp of a second war, and when that happens…"

"Yeah, I know the stakes. Like you didn't drill that into my skull hard enough." Alphonse answered bitterly. "But that's no reason to literally rip people apart from their homes to fight a war for you. Doubly so when you don't have a way back for them. Sure, you'll give me a nice house and make sure I'm cared for once it's all over and done…" The man turned on his heel and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "But I'm probably never going back. My family probably thinks I'm fucking dead by now. I'll forget their faces and voices, and they'll never know what happened to me…and what do you do?"

Alphonse slapped his palm with the back of his hand. "You go and do that a second time! What the fuck is your problem!?"

"MÄR-Heaven is going to burn if we don't do something, and a story like yours will be quaint by comparison." Alviss replied angrily. "We don't have other options anyways."

Gaira turned to look at Alviss, making a shushing gesture, but too late as Alphonse turned to look at the teen. 

"Oh fuck off with that horseshit, you child." The man retorted venomously  "You have plenty of options, as long as Phantom's still six feet under, you have all the time in the world to think of something!"

At his words, Alviss was about to explode, but was stopped by Gaira laying a hand on his shoulder and shaking his head. He didn't know. Why would he?

"I suppose promises are empty platitudes for you at this point, aren't they?" The Master said as Alviss bit his lip and clenched his fists.

"Sure are. What's the point of making you promise you won't do this a third time if you can't anymore anyways?" Alphonse replied with a grimace. "You're just gonna do whatever at this point, aren't you?" 

"If the summoned man has no inclination to fight, we will put him under Cross-Guard protection and offer him the same courtesy as you, for as little as that might be worth." Gaira declared as he lowered his head slightly. "And from that point on, we will look into other options which don't involve the people summoned with the Gatekeeper Pierrot."

Alphonse scoffed. "You had best start looking."

"We will. Fortunately, Babbo is still sealed away, and as long as that's the case, we'll have the time to think carefully and asses our options."

Indeed. So long as Phantom's ÄRM remained sealed, MÄR-Heaven would remain in a precarious, but very-much-present peace. 

For everyone's sake, the three hoped it remained the case for a while.

Trent Unleashes Phantom's ÄRM

Chapter Text

Trent blinked into the open sky and winced in pain. Pulling his glasses off, he blinked a few more times before he realized that he could see perfectly fine. Better than fine, even. Folding his glasses up and hanging them off his collar, he looked around.

The world was… colourful.

It was grand and sweeping, covered in gently rolling hills, verdant with grass, flowers, bushes and trees. Babbling brooks cut through the fields, and in the distance, mountains rose into the heavens.

The place was an idyllic fantasy painting brought into reality, and that was only hammered in harder as he caught sight of a massive bird flying over the peaks of the distant mountains.

The Canuck blinked again, and dumbly asked the air, “What the fuck?”

He cast his gaze about before realizing that there didn’t seem to be any sort of civilization in the area. No cities, villages, or even buildings.

Taking a deep breath, he started running up a hill, and was surprised at how quickly he moved. His body felt incredibly light, his legs felt completely fine despite how quickly his right would begin to bother him after the accident. He wasn’t even the slightest bit winded despite how quickly he had moved.

Looking around, he was about to swear when a voice called out to him.

“Ahoy, youngin!”

Casting his gaze around, Trent was baffled until he looked down and caught sight of a pair of rocks with faces on them, one of which had a mustache. The Canuck blinked, and then muttered, “What the Hell?”

“Now that isn’t too polite, m’boy!” the mustachioed one admonished him with a stern look. “M’son here isn’t used to language like that!”

“Er, sorry,” Trent replied, still staring at the pair in bafflement. “I, uh, I hate to intrude? And sorry to bother you?” Taking a breath, he asked, “Er, can’t really put this another way, but can you two point me towards the nearest town or whatever?”

“Mm, probably won’t be too much help there, m’boy,” the older stone said. “We’re growing moss with how little we move.”

Trent clicked his tongue. “Right, sorry to bug you two then.” He prepared to turn away, when the mustachioed stone coughed.

“Er, listen lad, while you’re here, would you mind fetching some water for the two of us? The sun’s been beating down on us, and you could practically fry an egg on our topsides!”

The Canuck blinked, and then after a moment, his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, sure. I can do that. Not-” He nearly choked as he had to face the fact that he had been dragged from his home to some fantasy world. Swallowing, he finished, “Not like I have too much going on right now.”

“Thank you, m’boy,” the elder rock declared, with his son echoing the sentiment.

The closest river was a short run, which Trent completed in record time for both himself and pretty much anyone he could think of. He thought about cupping the water in his hands, but decided against it, instead he pulled off his shirt and dunked it in the river. Running back to the stones, he held the sodden article over them before twisting it and squeezing the water out.

The stones let out noises of contentment, and the older of the two warmly remarked, “Thank you, lad, this means more than you might know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Trent said, waving it off. He was about to turn away when there was a massive clattering behind him.

Swiveling around, he came face to face with a gangly metal figure. Its limbs were too thin to be human, despite its body shape. It was more like a robot, or a puppet that was somehow mobile.

The golem charged, and while Trent considered dodging, his gut roared at the idea of just leaving the helpless rocks to get smashed by it. Setting his feet, he kept his eyes on the sprinting figure, and when it got within arms’ reach, he pulled its arms apart and stepped into it. Wrapping his arms around its torso, the blond roared as he twisted, pulling the golem off its feet before flipping over and body slamming it into the ground.

The dirt cratered beneath the golem before it shuddered and popped, leaving behind a ring with the grill of its helmet on the face.

Pulling himself up, Trent blinked at the ring as he scooped it out of the dirt, and muttered, “What the-”

Before he could earn another admonishment from the stone, the sound of clapping filled the air, and a woman’s voice called out, “Excellent show!”

Turning to the source, he found a woman sitting atop an odd, cylindrical pillar of stone. She was quite the looker, with long cotton candy pink hair that had been pulled back in braids. She was clad in a dark blue dress that brought to mind a witch’s dress with its jaggedly cut sleeves and skirt hem, alongside the pointed hat atop her head. Her fingers were covered with rings that brought to mind the one that Trent had just picked up, and she had a metal-shafted broom under one arm.

“So, who are you? Glynda or Elphaba? Or maybe Locasta?” Trent asked, now bouncing the ring in his palm.

The witch chuckled as she dropped from her seat, “None of the above, never heard of them either. I’m Dorothy, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She tilted her head to the side as she smiled at the Canuck.

Behind Trent, he heard the elder rock repeat the name, sounding worried. Rather than react to that, the blond hummed as he caught the ring between his thumb and index finger. “So, this was the Tinman, then? Where’s the Coward Lion, the Scarecrow, and Toto?”

Dorothy blinked, and her eyes narrowed. Rather than answer the question directly, she shrugged and retorted, “Well, nevermind the name. You defeated a mid-level Guardian Ärm… that’s pretty interesting. So, I’ve got to ask, what were you using?”

Trent ignored the older stone as it called out for him to run, watching as Dorothy’s eyes traced across him. The Canuck shrugged and answered, “Physics and its own momentum.”

“I-” the witch blinked, and took a moment to circle him, her eyes widening. “You don’t have a single Ärm on you… What the Hell?”

“Listen, sister, I’m a fan of throwing jargon around too, but I’m going to need to ask: what’s an Ärm?” the blond asked, slowly turning to keep Dorothy in his sights.

“ How do you not know what an Ärm is?! ” She called back, her eyes going wide at Trent’s seeming ignorance. “What backwater are you from that you don’t know what an Ärm is?!”

“Southern Ontario, Canada,” Trent answered without missing a beat.

“I- I’ve never heard of it,” Dorothy admitted, blinking in confusion. “It’s got to be a tiny place, given that I didn’t see it on any of the maps I’ve studied.”

“It’s located in another world,” Trent grunted, taking a deep breath as his empty hand curled into a tight fist. “Some weird fucking clown-gate monster dragged me here.”

“T-the Gatekeeper Clown?!” Dorothy shouted, stepping forward and grabbing the man’s shoulders. “Where is it? Who summoned you? I need to find it!”

Pulling his head back, Trent’s eyes went wide as he answered, “I- I don’t know? I just… found myself out here after it rolled its die and dragged me through.”

The pink-haired woman clicked her tongue and grimaced. “Damn, the user must not have been experienced with Dimensional Ärms…”

“Lady, you still haven’t told me what an Ärm is ,” the blond pointed out dryly, ignoring the fact that Dorothy still had his arms pinned to his side.

“Oh, right,” the pinkette murmured, blinking as she released him and stood up straight. Lifting a hand to her mouth, she coughed into it as she raised the other to reveal that she had pilfered her ring-golem back. “Ärms are a form of magic, I suppose. They’re items or accessories forged through a special form of metallurgy to give them powers and abilities like how this ring turns into a walking suit of armour.”

“Interesting…” Trent grunted as he tapped his foot, one hand coming up to rub his chin. “So, then that clown thing was the same?”

“The Gatekeeper Clown, yes,” Dorothy replied with a grave nod. “To think it was actually used, and that it actually was able to reach into another world…”

“Well, I can confirm the last two,” Trent said sourly, his arms dropping as his shoulders tensed. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “You said you’re looking for it, right? I don’t know what I can offer you, but I’ll lend you a hand in whatever you need if you let me use it to go home.”

Dorothy hummed, a hand coming up to rest against her chin. After a moment, she smiled and her expression brightened. “How about a test? I’m looking for a certain Ärm that’s said to be sealed nearby. You help me get it, and I’ll help you in your search.”

Trent shrugged as he stepped forward, a hand extended. “Well, you’re the best shot I have, so…”

“Wonderful!” Twirling her broom in her hands, Dorothy started to walk away. “I’ll shake your hand if this works out.”

Trent looked back at the rocks, the older of the two who was still trying to plead with him. He offered them an uneasy smile as he spoke, “I wish I could take your advice… but she’s my best hope right now. Take it easy.”

With that, he trotted after the witch despite the concerned hollering of the boulder.

After about an hour and a half of walking, the pair found themselves standing before a ruin, Dorothy holding a tattered piece of paper in her hand. “This is the place, the rumoured Seal of Babbo.”

“That’s… quite the name,” Trent said, swallowing a laugh at how juvenile the name sounded.

The witch rolled her eyes as she walked forward, towards the root-choked gap in the collapsed bricks and pillars. “You might not know, but this is the resting place of a legendary Ärm.”

“Cool, so what’s the situation we’re looking at here? A lock and key set up, traps, what?” Trent asked, following along behind her. He was tempted to start humming the Indiana Jones theme, but quashed the thought. “Hell, what is this Ärm anyways?”

“From the last to the first,” Dorothy started, her hand coming up with a finger up. “Babbo’s one of the few Ärms I don’t know too much about. All I know is that it’s an extremely powerful one, and a singular existence too. That speaks a lot to how imperative it is that I retrieve it.” Her middle finger came up and she admitted, “As for protections… that’s also an unknown. Nobody’s survived entering the ruins, to my knowledge.”

Trent hummed as they descended into the ruins, the stone halls lit by a strange glow emanating from the walls and floor. There was a brief moment of quiet, only for the blond to yelp as the floor gave way beneath him. His hand lashed out, grabbing hold of the bricks as he fell, and swore as it fell too.

Landing on his feet after a few seconds of falling, he looked around, taking in the shift to a stone bridge in the middle of a rugged cave, leading into a decorated archway. Looking up at the hole, he called out, “Hey, Dorothy, I think I found a shortcut!”

The witch had already been peeking into the hole from above, and shrugged. “Move out of the way, I don’t know you well enough to be comfortable flashing you just yet!”

“Fair!” Trent replied as he moved a few steps out of the way and pointedly looked at anywhere but above him. The cave itself was pretty stereotypical, outside of the stone bridge he was standing on, and the decorated arch it was leading to.

There was a moment of silence, and then he heard Dorothy’s boots tap against the stone, turning, he offered her a nod before starting to head for the arch. “You mentioned that this Babbo’s super special, can you give me a rundown of why?”

“Basically, Ärms fall into a number of types –offensive, defensive, holy, darkness, elemental, guardian, whatever–, but there are some that defy or straddle classification. Babbo is apparently one such Ärm, which is why I’m trying to collect it,” Dorothy outlined, spinning her broom again as she took the lead.

“I see, fair enough.” Trent understood collecting rare things, his own rare card collecting goblinoid instincts coming to mind.

Dorothy chuckled as they stepped into an amphitheatre, and she loudly declared, “We’re here!”

Behind them, the arch revealed itself to be part of a structure that resembled a Roman colosseum to the blond. The path they were walking on led up to a raised platform, upon which sat a pedestal with a chest laid atop it.

Trent hummed as he took in the scene, and was tempted to remark on how easy it looked. Instead, he asked, “So, what am I missing here?”

“There are broken Ärms all over the ground here,” Dorothy pointed out, one hand coming up to point out a few. “Well, those and some scraps of clothing, but no bodies. It’s likely that no one’s managed to take Babbo, and that there’s someone playing cleaner. The real question is: what’s the security measure that’s been put in place?”

The decorative inlay on the pedestal shone brilliantly and then a massive golem burst into existence. Its body was tall and thick, its build stocky and bricklike as it loomed over the pair. It looked vaguely like a thickly armoured knight, but lacked any sort of weapon, with its head being a pointed helmet that barely lifted out of its torso.

“A guardian, huh?” Dorothy remarked as she twirled her broom to hold it like a spear, a grin on her face.

“That’s one way to refer to it!” Trent hollered as they jumped away from each other, the golem’s massive fist slamming into the ground and burying itself almost halfway to the elbow joint.

The blond considered trying to punch it, but when he considered how sturdy the armour looked, and how much damage it had done… he decided against it.

“Come out, Flying Leo!” Dorothy called as she threw a bracelet into the air.

The bracelet exploded into a winged lion, the beast roaring as it circled the golem. Swooping around the massive guardian, it swept in and latched its jaws around the helmet, snarling as it tried to rip it open.

There was a meaty sound as the golem slapped it away, the lion whining as it steadied itself in the air.

Trent watched the fight for a few moments, and then noticed that despite being in a pretty dangerous position, Dorothy hadn’t moved. The blond narrowed his eyes, even as the lion swooped in again, trying to sweep around the golem’s slaps, but failing to get into its guard.

The golem took a step forward, forcing the lion back, and Trent caught sight of Dorothy’s expression tightening.

A simple conclusion presented itself to the Canuck: for whatever reason, Dorothy couldn’t move.

Dorothy couldn’t move, her lion wasn’t doing well against the golem, and he… was probably useless against that mass of metal on his own.

He took a deep breath, swiveled on his heel, and sprinted away from the fight.

He darted up the stairs to the pedestal and flipped the chest open. He needed some way to fight that monster, and this ‘Babbo’ was probably his best shot. Looking down into the chest, his hands froze above the Ärm.

Nestled atop a velvet pillow were a silver hammer and a ball on a chain, which wasn’t too out there for a weapon design. The issue was that the ball had a face with a prodigious nose and facial hair, and it was clearly asleep.

“What the fuck?” Trent asked, even as the ball shifted, its mouth opening as it murmured.

The ball blinked up at the blond, and asked, “Who the Hell’re you? And where is this place? I was asleep, and… I can’t remember?”

Trent considered shouting for Dorothy to clarify, but a quick check over his shoulder showed that she was scowling at him while her lion fought valiantly. Turning back to the ball, he replied, “I’m Trent. Who’re you?”

“Babbo,” grunted the ball, its eyes narrowed as it studied the blond. “That is the sole thing that I can recall.”

“Huh, well, listen, I need your help,” Trent said, reaching down to take a hold of the hammer’s handle. He jerked his head towards the melee and remarked, “My… partner’s in trouble. Lend me a hand, yeah?”

“Hell no,” the Ärm replied. “I’m tired and want to keep sleeping. Figure it out on your own.”

“I don’t give a shit if you’re tired, Dorothy’s in trouble!” the blond argued, pointing behind him at the witch with his free hand. 

Babbo stared up at him blandly, and shot back, “I hardly see how that is my problem, now if you will excuse me-”

There was an ugly cracking sound, and Trent spun around, his eyes wide. The winged lion started to droop, its head hanging limply from its shoulders before disappearing in a puff of smoke, leaving behind a shattered bracelet.

“Leo- Shit!” Dorothy cried as she tried to jump away, only to be caught by the massive golem. It hauled her up to chest level before turning and stomping back to the pedestal.

Despite not being able to see its eyes, Trent knew it was locked onto him.

“Ah fuck it,” the blond declared as he reached down with his other hand and grabbed the chain connecting the ball to the hammer. “I’d apologize, Babbo… but you pissed me off.”

“Now see here, swine!” Babbo started to shout, only to start sputtering as Trent spun the chain, the sound of creaking chain and the Ärm screaming filling the air.

Jerking his arm forward, Trent released the chain, and sent the ball screaming through the air at the golem’s chest. Babbo screamed invectives at Trent, but was cut off as he slammed into the centre of the golem, cratering the plate and sending it stumbling back.

The golem’s hand opened, and Dorothy tumbled through the air, her eyes locked on Trent and Babbo.

The blond roared as he followed the ball, charging the golem and leaping as he reached its feet. He jumped far past what he could have managed back home, reaching the golem’s head. Trent’s mouth pulled into a furious snarl, and swung the hammer at its head, wishing it was bigger.

Just before it hit the dome of the helmet, the hammer swelled in size and drove the golem into the ground.

Landing surprisingly softly, Trent let out a breath. “Hell yeah!”

“Quite you ignoble dastard!” Babbo called from beside him.

“I- what? How- Ärms don’t talk!” Dorothy shouted as she trotted over to the pair.

“Well not all Ärms are like me!” Babbo shot back.

“Like hell!” Dorothy shot back as she reached down to lift Babbo. “There are no Ärms like you!”

And then she lurched forward, her face going red as Babbo was dragged back to the ground by gravity. “Why are you so heavy!”

“I guess he’s just built different,” Trent joked, his mouth pulling into a wry grin as the adrenaline started to wear off. He was just glad that he and Dorothy were both alive.

“Built wrong,” Dorothy sniped.

“Built immaculate ,” Babbo declared at the same time, his nose shooting into the air.

Rather than bother continuing the joke, Trent tried to lift both Babbo and the hammer, neither of which were difficult for him to lift. “Well, he doesn’t seem too heavy to me?” With a thought, the hammer swelled and then shrug, before the same happened to Babbo, earning squawks from the Ärm and Dorothy. With a single hand, the blond lifted the inflated Babbo.

“Yeah, no difference.”

Dorothy inhaled deeply and then shook her head. “Oh, fine. I’ll leave that lump to you, Trent.” She looked over the pair, even as Trent had to jump away from Babbo, who tried to nip his fingers. Swallowing a laugh, she held out her hand. “So, I guess you passed… partner.”

“Glad to hear it,” Trent replied as he tossed the hammer into his left hand before reaching out with his right to shake Dorothy’s. “Now let’s find the yellow brick road.”

Chapter Text

A fairy in a blue leotard with light blue hair flew around Alviss, her face scrunched up in a frustrated scowl as she stared the boy down.

"What do you mean I'm not going with you?" She asked angrily.

"We don't know their intentions, Belle." Alviss answered grimly. "Whoever unsealed Babbo could be anyone. I don't think it was the Chess Pieces given the defences set up to protect it, but we can't be too sure."

"Oh come on, if you're that worried then that's all the more reason for me to follow along!" The tiny winged woman puffed her cheeks at the boy and strained her arms. "I'm a lot more stealthy than you are, and if they're dangerous then I'll tell you!"

"No means no, Belle." Alviss shook his head. 

The fairy stared at Alviss for a second. Two. Three. Then he saw a huge grin appear on her face which made him sigh as he braced himself.

"Oh, Alviss, sweetie, I can't believe you're soooo chivalrous!" The fairy dragged out her words as she made eyes at the boy and turned to the side. "I can't believe you're so smitten with me that you wouldn't want me getting hurt. Oh, Alviss! I wuv you so muuuuuch!"

Alviss groaned as the fairy started taking the piss and he knew that any refuting would mean her continuing. Was there any way this could get any worse?

"Awwww, that's adorable."

Yes. The answer was, in fact, yes.

Alviss's expression turned sour as he turned around to come face to face with Alphonse.

"What do you want?" The boy asked.

"You're leaving to find Babbo, right? I'm coming too." Alphonse replied with his arms closed.

"No, you're not." Alviss said as he closed his fist.

"Yeah well, now really doesn't seem like the time to go on a date with your girlfriend." Alphonse replied with a smirk. Belle blew a raspberry at him and in response he stared her down and added. "Also, Belle, the age of consent is not a foreign concept in this world. Stop trying to date a child." 

Instead of the childish expression, the fairy flipped him off and he returned the gesture. 

"Are you just here to waste my time and insult me?" Alviss turned his back on Alphonse with an angry huff.

"Not just , unfortunately." Alphonse rolled his eyes. "I'm going with you, and no, you don't get to say no. Gaira gave me the go ahead. If you've got an issue with that, take it up with him."

Alviss growled as he palmed his face. Alphonse might have been vindictive, angry, an asshole, and just a very unpleasant person, but if there was something he wasn't, it was a liar. Master Gaira most likely did give him the go ahead.

" Fine. " The boy groaned. "You too Belle, I need someone to make sure my brain doesn't leak out of my ears, having to listen to this maroon."

"Sure thing sweetie." Belle said as she blew a kiss towards Alviss while the boy moved forward. 

At least now it couldn't get any worse for him.

“So, what’s the sitch, here?” Trent asked as he and Dorothy strolled through a decently sized village that the latter had flown them to, Babbo bouncing alongside them begrudgingly.

“Basically? We’re here to see if there are any rumours about rare or mysterious Ärms,” the witch explained, after taking a moment to parse what the blond had asked. “Most of the ones in this city are low grade at best, and even most of the rarer stuff they have is still more on the spectacle side than the useful side.”

“So, the only use of this place is as a rest stop before we head after other, more important Ärms?” Trent grunted, making sure that Babbo’s hammer was still tucked securely into his belt.

Babbo let out a sound of amusement as he bounced up, his face twisted into a proud mask. “ Please , as if there’s any Ärm as important or special as me!”

Dorothy stared down at Babbo in disgust, her mouth pulled into a small but intense frown and her eyes were narrowed into thin slits. Trent just chuckled in amusement and shook his head.

“Oh, you’re definitely a special one, alright.”

“Quite right, quite right! Why, keep up that attitude, and I might just see you as a worthy vassal, m’boy!” Babbo chuffed, radiating smugness as he bounced forward, whistling.

“Glad to hear, Babs,” Trent said, shaking his head. He turned to the witch again, and continued, “So, what’s the plan? You want Babbo and I to come along as muscle?”

Dorothy laughed darkly, “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. My contacts know very well not to cross me.” She reached out and pinched his cheek condescendingly as she continued, “Now why don’t you and little Babby-boy go out and explore? I’ll find you two after I finish my business.”

“Got it, got it, you don’t want us ruining your vibe,” Trent grunted as he pulled away, freeing his cheek from the witch’s grip. He considered reaching up to rub the area, but it was more out of reflex rather than any actual pain. “We’ll wander around, I guess.”

“Very good,” the pinkette said, reaching into her dress and pulling out a small pouch, which she passed to the blond. “You can use that to get a snack or whatever, but I wouldn’t bother with any of this town’s crappy Ärms.”

“Roger roger,” Trent grunted as he caught the pouch and looked down to check the pouches contents. Looking back up, he found that Dorothy had disappeared.

The Canuck blinked. He hadn’t expected that.

Shaking his head, he asked, “Hey Babbo, wanna grab a snack?”

“A capital idea!” the Ärm replied, his nose twitching. “Why, I think I smell something delectable in this direction.”

Trent thought about pointing out that Babbo was a sentient kendama. Then, rather than actually do so, he simply nodded and continued after the bouncing orb, as he was clearly magical in some fashion.

Trent and Babbo were ambling down the sidestreets of the town, skewers sticking out of the corners of their mouths. The Canadian hummed as he had his hands shoved in his pockets. “Pretty good skewers, eh?”

“Indeed!” Babbo agreed, moving his skewer across his mouth. “I wasn’t expecting much from a street stall, but they completely surpassed my expectations!”

“If they weren’t worth buying, they wouldn’t be for sale,” Trent retorted with a roll of his eyes.

Unbeknownst to the pair, a fairy fluttered in the air above them, quickly moving down and away from them, arriving at an alley.

"The guy with Babbo's just parading him around, he doesn't look that bad." Belle said as she cupped her chin. Both Alviss and Alphonse were looking at her in thought. Or at least Alphonse was; Alviss was fuming as Alphonse put his chin over the boy's head, an eyebrow twitching in annoyance. 

"What does he look like?" Alviss asked, pushing Alphonse back. 

"Blondie with short hair..." Belle said, but then paused and hummed before she glanced at Alphonse. "Actually, you can't miss him, he had weird clothes like Mister Grimace over here when he came by."

Alphonse bit back the remark about Alviss's Kingdom Hearts-looking ass, or him being worse on the grimace department. Likewise, Alviss felt deep concern welling up within him.

"What is that idiot thinking? Did he seriously just break Babbo's seal on his own? Why would he even do that?" Alviss asked. 

"To his credit, I doubt they even knew." Alphonse shugged. "Alright, if it's the guy you summoned, then we best kill two birds with one stone now, rather than sulk around."

Alviss agreed, but refused to give Alphonse the satisfaction and instead just moved out of the alleyway, followed closely by the man and fairy. They quickly cut through the crowd. They soon came across the man and Phantom's ÄRM. Alviss quickly picked up the pace and left Alphonse behind, overtaking the pair they were tailing and placing himself in front of their path as he looked at them.

Alphonse let out a heavy sigh and prepared to intervene.

Trent blinked at the small, Kingdom Hearts OC looking child that had appeared before him, the small fairy bobbing about his shoulders. He saw that Babbo had also stopped, and spat out his skewer. Rather than focus on that, the blond hummed, “So… you Peter Pan and Tinkerbell? Do we need to worry about the Lost Boys piling out of the alleys? Or is there something else you need, kid?”

Subtly, the blond reached down to rest his hand on the head of Babbo’s hammer, but didn’t make any outwardly hostile moves. The real goal was to have a hand on Babbo’s chain to keep him from lunging.

It wasn't an outwardly hostile move, but Alviss did react as though it was, beginning to reach for the totem pole chain on his hip.

Meanwhile from a few paces behind, Alphonse was stunned silent and shocked by the familiar voice.

" Trent? " 

The blond blinked at his name being called and craned his head around, the familiar voice twigging something in his ear. “Dassa me. Al, that you?”

"Holy shit, no way, it is you! " Alphonse cheered as he approached Trent with outstretched arms. " Holy shit, man! "

Turning, Trent’s arms were also held wide… until he got close enough to pull his friend into a headlock. “You bastard! Do you have any idea how fucking worried we were? First you fucking fell out of world, and then Johan did!”

"Oh, what the fuck, him too!?" Alphonse yelled as he staggered around. "And it sure as shit wasn't by choice, I'll tell you that right now! Fucking clown also dragged you into this place, didn't it?"

“Correct, it grabbed me as I was on my way out to punch trees,” Trent said, deciding to release his friend after a moment. “I was just lucky Dorothy picked me up after that shitty clown dropped me in the ass end of nowhere.”

Alphonse began to fall into an animated discussion with Trent, and in the meantime, Alviss stared at the pair in dumbfounded awe, before the boy turned his gaze towards Babbo with an angry scowl.

“Is there something you need, child?” the Ärm asked, an eyebrow raised as he rolled slightly to the side. “‘twould seem that buffoon is rather busy, but I am ever the brains of this outfit.”

"Ah, right, we need to sit down for a talk." Alphonse said as he scratched at the back of his head. "There's a lot we need to cover right now. You free at the moment?."

“Er, sure? Me and Babbo were just wandering around till Dorothy got back from meeting an informant or something,” Trent said, reaching down and yanking the Ärm’s chain and catching Babbo’s orb into his hand. “It’s rude to stare, dude.”

“He was the one staring, not I!” Babbo protested.

"He do be," Alphonse said as he pointed his thumb at Alviss, who levelled the pair a very angry stare.

Trent’s eyes travelled to Alviss as he snorted, “He’s who I was talking to, yes. I’d have called you by name, Babs.”

Alviss rolled his eyes. This was going to be an annoying talk.

The three people, one fairy, one sentient ÄRM group moved closer to the outskirts of town to avoid alarming people. Most people wouldn't know Babbo, but they would be very unnerved about the kind of talk that would be had.

"Alright, so where to even start…" Alphonse scratched at his hair. "Aw, fuck it. Starting from the beginning. This world, where we are? It's called MAR-Heaven."

" MÄR -Heaven." Alviss corrected.

"Shut up, Peter." Alphonse shot back without looking at Alviss even as the boy stared at him in annoyance. "MÄR-Heaven. Wild, wacky world. You've already met the talking rocks and stuff. Real fantasy hours, and not just the Tolkien shit. You with me so far?"

“Makes sense,” Trent agreed with a nod. “Dorothy’s a… witch, I guess? She jets around on a broom, has a lot of Ärms. She and I teamed up to find the Gatekeeper Clown.”

"Gatekeeper Pierrot, but same difference." Alphonse shrugged and then sighed. "Yeah, I'll get back on that one later, but more than that, there's the matter of why you're here, and the one who brought you here's riiiight…"

Alphonse pointed at Alviss.

"There."

“I see, I see,” Trent said, nodding a few times as he stepped towards Alviss, his mouth pulled into a rictus of a smile. He then reached out towards the child’s head, ready to squeeze and mess up his hair. “You little shit! Do you think kidnapping is fucking cool or something?!”

Alviss slapped Trent's hands aside. "I've heard enough of that from that idiot."

"Clearly you didn't. You pulled two of my friends over here." Alphonse said as he stared down Alviss. 

"Whoever that one was, that wasn't me. I know the Pierrot rolled a one." Alviss said with a shake of his head. 

"Much as I'd love to dwell on this. As I have before. Repeatedly..." Alphonse sighed. "There's a bigger problem in the why, and we need to talk about that."

“Alright then, what’s the issue?” Trent grunted, crossing his arms after sending one last grimace at Alviss.

Alviss gave a long sigh.

"The Chess Pieces." He answered. "Six years ago, a group of people gathered many powerful ÄRMs and began a campaign of conquest, destruction and subjugation of the entirety of MÄR-Heaven."

“Pretty fucked up,” Trent surmised as his eyes narrowed, his foot tapping. “If we’re being called now… what, a neo group pop up or something? Someone set themselves up as the new King?”

"Not quite, but yes." Alphonse continued for Alviss. "Long story short, the Chess Pieces got beat, but they weren't wiped out. There's been whispers of them moving around. It's likely they'll make a second go of it and absolutely destroy MÄR-Heaven."

“Pretty bad,” Trent agreed with a nod, his eyes still narrowed and foot still tapping. “But that doesn’t explain or excuse kidnapping me and my friends. ”

"It gets worse, but we'll get there." Alphonse sighed. "The explanation's simple enough, though. You obviously noticed that you've gotten crazy strong since you arrived here, right? Don't even need glasses anymore, even."

“…what, we were summoned to be isekai heroes? ” Trent asked incredulously.

"What the fuck is an isekai?" Alviss asked.

"Got it in one!" Alphonse clapped with a mirthless laugh. "Yes, we were summoned for that reason. Trust me, I'm not happy about it, but with the way things are looking, I'm gonna have to grit my teeth and fight. I dunno about you, though. I don't think you'll be too enthused about having to fight a war you got kidnapped for, will you?"

“I’m not enthused in the fucking least, ” Trent growled, feeling his guts roiling as he took deep breathes. “What the fuck is in it for us, other than a way home?”

Everyone save Trent and Babbo winced. It was not a great reaction and it was plain to see.

Alphonse sighed and started scratching at the back of his neck.

"Well, you get a retirement plan. Nice little home, food and money, but you're getting that even if you don't fight. I argued for it incessantly. " Alphonse replied. "If you don't feel like fighting, then you can just weather the storm."

Trent stopped, his hands tightening into fists. “Al, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? Are you saying that there’s no way home?”

With a rather torn expression, Alphonse turned to look at Trent. 

"Not that these fuckers know, no." Alphonse answered. "If there's anyone who would know for sure, it'd be the Chaldeans, but good luck finding one of them."

Trent’s eyes flashed as his arm came up, his expression quaking as he caught his motion, stopping before he punched the closest wall. He stared down Alviss, his chest heaving as he tried to keep from flying off the handle. “Do you have any idea how absolutely fucking disgusted I am with you and whoever you’re teamed up with? Do you have any idea how tempted I am to tell you to just kick rocks until you die? Do you have any fucking idea, you miserable little shit? ”

Alviss met his gaze without flinching. He did, in fact, have an idea, thanks to Alphonse reacting in much the same way when he was first summoned. He also, however, didn't have any responses that would be received well.

So he kept his silence.

The blond stared him down, and after a moment, he looked down at Babbo, who had been listening quietly. “This is fucked up, isn’t it Babbo?”

“While these Chess Pieces do indeed sound like dastards, I can hardly fault you for your own reaction,” the Ärm remarked slowly, rolling slightly forward. “While I encourage you to follow the gentlemanly path… given the turn this has been it is difficult to do.”

"Whatever you choose to do, I'll back you up to hell and back, Trent." Alphonse said. "I'm in the same boat as you, but…I've already received a fair bit of training before you arrived. I'm gonna be fighting.  I don't like it, but I gotta at this point. If you want to sit it out, then no judgement."

“As tempting as it is, I’m not just going to leave you to fight on your own,” the Canuck grunted tiredly, reaching up to scrub a hand through his hair. “But I’m also not going to leave Dorothy high and dry. I made a deal with her, and I can’t go back on that.”

"If you're going to fight then you don't have time to go around chasing a girl's skirt." Alviss repeated. "And that's all your own fault."

"Alviss, shut the fuck up, you dipshit. You're not helping." Alphonse shot the boy a dirty look.

“It’s not about chasing a skirt, you twerp, it’s about following through on commitments one makes,” Trent grunted, feeling increasingly annoyed with the child. “Besides, Dorothy’s been searching for rare and important Ärms, like Babbo here and the Gatekeeper Clown. She agreed to help me get home in exchange for helping her in her endeavours.”

" She's the one who searched for Babbo!? " Alviss angrily growled at Trent. "You absolute idiot! Both of you! Do you have any idea of what Babbo even is!?"

“Bit of an odd duck for an Ärm, but otherwise a dude?” Trent replied, an eyebrow raised as he shared a look with Babbo before turning back to the child.

"This is the point where I cut in again before Alviss chooses to be unhelpfully lashing out again." Alphonse sighed. "No, Babbo's special. He's not just a rare, one-in-a-million ÄRM, he's…a problem."

“I am not!” Babbo protested, sounding aghast.

“I mean, you’re pretty special, but it would make sense why you’re in that weird seal if there’s some issues attached,” Trent noted to the Ärm, trying to help him feel better.

Alphonse sighed.

"Does the name Phantom ring any bells?"

“I-I-” Babbo stuttered, shuddering as his mouth pulled wide and his brow furrowed. His mouth worked as he panted lightly, rolling back and forth in place. “Th-that name- it’s… I know it, but- but-!”

“Holy shit,” Trent muttered as he dropped down to a knee, putting a comforting hand atop the orb as he looked up and mouthed, “ What the fuck? ”

Alphonse brought a hand to the back of his neck and he scratched at it. 

"So you don't remember. All the better, I say." The man said as he looked away from the living ÄRM. "I'll keep it brief, given your reaction. The…general of the Chess Pieces, so to speak, was a man named Phantom. He's an undying zombie. He was killed in the last conflict, but it wouldn't stick. The next best thing that could be done was to seal him away, but given the Chess Pieces retrieved his body, it couldn't be done directly…"

He sighed. 

"So they did it through a sympathetic bond with his favoured weapon, sealing it in such a way that it would have the knock on effect of sealing him as well and keeping him in the grave until said seal could be lifted."

Pulling his hand off Babbo and idly noting that the Ärm was somehow sweating, Trent took a deep breath even as Babbo stared at the ground. Quietly, the moustachioed orb said, “Me.”

Alphonse gave a single, grim nod.

"And, now that the seal on you has been lifted…" Alviss spoke up. "The seal on Phantom was lifted as well. It's only a matter of time now until Phantom revives and a new war is started." The boy then stared at Trent with anger. "And you and your little friend Dorothy just went and did that."

“Kid, I don’t know what to say here, I didn’t know anything about it,” Trent said with a shrug as he turned back to the child. He then smiled venomously. “But don’t worry! You kidnap people and treat them as tools to fight your battles for you! It only makes sense that karma would bite you in the ass!”

"Yes, me and the thousands that will die in three or so days after they start the war." Alviss dismissed the venomous statement with venom of his own. "The Gatekeeper Pierrot had the power to bring you from another world. Do you think there aren't multiple ÄRMs able to bring someone from one part of MÄR-Heaven to another in an instant? This entire world is going to burn in short order."

Alviss grimaced at Trent.

"I don't care. You two can point your fingers as much as you want, but it doesn't change the fact that we need people to fight these battles for us, because for as much as we want to fight them ourselves, we were on the backfoot with just one last time."

“Then consider the fact that you’re kidnapping people, kid,” Trent asserted, crossing his arms as he met Alviss’ grimace. “Your circumstances are unfortunate, I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t give you the right to sidestep the responsibility you hold for your own actions. Like not accurately advertising that unsealing Babbo was a bad thing. There weren’t any signs outside the seal, nothing on the chest he was sealed in, and the Guardian that appeared didn’t speak or anything to warn us away. Especially considering that fact that I knew less than the little I know now about Ärms, and all Dorothy knew was that Babbo was a unique Ärm. Nothing else, not even the Phantom association.”

"He has a point, you know?" Alphonse glanced over at Alviss. "How the fuck was he supposed to know?"

With a scoff, Alviss extended his hand towards Babbo.

"Fine. Whatever." Alviss brushed off the point. "But if you're not going to come along and are just going to follow along that so-called witch of yours, then give me Babbo. We'll put it to better use than you."

Trent blinked, and then looked down at the Ärm in question. “You want to go with him, Babbo?”

“Heavens no!” Babbo cried, his expression stormy. “While stopping those foul sounding Chess would be quite the dapper endeavour… I could hardly lower myself to follow someone so rude and crass, especially when they refuse to take responsibility for their own gaffs!”

The blond shrugged as he looked back at the child. “You heard the man.”

"Then are you coming along with us?" Alviss answered angrily. "We've already told you. Phantom is coming. The war is going to start any day now, and if you say you'll fight, then you'll need to train before it's too late to do so."

Trent hummed, “What’re the chances the Chess’ll have rare and powerful Ärms?”

"One hundred percent." Alviss replied. "They had Babbo. They have more rare Ärms, even if they aren't like it."

“Let me talk to Dorothy, she’ll probably be down to lend a hand if she’s as much of an Ärm maniac as she’s implied,” the Canuck remarked. “You alright to wait a little while?”

"All you've told me is she's an ÄRM hunter!" Alviss snapped back. "Those people are just hyenas looking for scraps off the ground! How do you know she'd fight the Chess Pieces!? For all you know, she could be part of Luberia and just stringing you along for her own ends!"

A blast of wind slammed into the ground beside Alviss, ruffling the clothes of the entire group. From above them, Dorothy’s voice echoed, “Please, little boy, do keep going on about things you know so little about. Luberia is nothing more than a rabble who content themselves filling their pockets. I have my reasons.”

Standing atop one of the nearest buildings was the witch in question, her broom held like a sorceress' staff or a warrior’s spear. Her expression, usually playful, was set in a grim mask.

Alviss paused, biting down on his instinctive response to tell her off, given Babbo's unsealing. Alphonse also stopped and looked at the lady with a concerned expression.

The short time he'd spent in MÄR was also time spent training, getting a feel for things, actually finding out what it was like to be in a fight and sizing up others before that even happened. He was still incredibly inexperienced, but even then he could tell, right there and then, that she meant business, in that moment.

Alviss slowly reached for the totem pole chain.

"Give us Babbo. I'm not asking a third time."

"'Us', kimosabe?" Alphonse stared at Alviss, and the boy suddenly glared at him. "You're the one insisting on it. Matter of fact, I'm pretty sure Gaira said that the only thing he wanted you to do was to make sure it wasn't the Chess Pieces or anyone with ill intent who got their hands on Babbo."

“Gaira… Gaira… oh, he’s the defacto head of those Cross Guys, right?” Dorothy remarked as she folded herself onto her broom and drifted slowly towards the ground. “Hm, might need to investigate what Ärms he has on him…”

" For what? " Alviss shot back. "Are you planning on attacking Master Gaira for his ÄRMs? On the cusp of a new war? For someone saying not to assume things of them, you're not helping your case."

"Have you considered, perhaps…" Alphonse spoke up. "That no one cares about your opinions, childboy?"

“As for my reasons…” Dorothy started, still staring down the child as she gave him a grim but wide smile. “I am not a thief. But I have a duty of my own to find and make sure that certain Ärms are removed from unsuitable wielders. Your Thirteen Totem Pole Staff… are you sure you’re worthy of it, little boy? Maybe I should reclaim it.”

That was the last straw.

"Belle." Alviss said as the little fairy stared between Dorothy and him. "Run."

The fairy hesitated, but she saw that it was no use and began flying in the opposite direction. Alphonse also shuffled around and out of the way, closer to Trent.

"Yeah, we gotta bounce, dude." He whispered.

“Seems like,” the blond agreed as he scooped up Babbo and jumped away, followed by Alphonse as he dragged his cape.

“I can hardly call this gentlemanly,” the Ärm grumbled from his position. “Shrew she might be, we are still leaving a lady to do battle on her own.”

“Call it a gut feeling,” Trent remarked even as massive pillars slammed out of the ground, forming a small copse. “But I think Dorothy’s got this handled.”

The witch, rather than daintily float down, was now grinding down the pillars while standing atop her broom, executing spins to send razor winds to harass Alviss or knock his attacks off course.

The pillars began to collapse, some blocking the gales and some uselessly hurtling towards Dorothy, who just dodged them by a hair's breadth effortlessly. In a matter of seconds, though, he was forced on the defensive; having to dodge around attacks and use the totem poles to block gales and reposition himself at times.

But wherever the boy moved, Dorothy was there, floating in like a breeze through the smallest gap, smile still on her face. Idly, she backhanded a pillar shooting at her as her other hand shot out, grabbing Alviss by the collar and slamming him against another.

“Well, little boy? Still feeling big?”

As she held him by the collar, one of the boy's rings came off and flipped around as it fell.

"Caged Bird."

Metal spikes erupted from the ground around Dorothy, but with a laugh, the witch spun the two around in place and placed the boy where she stood.

The spikes converged above Alviss's head, before a puff of smoke engulfed both the construct and boy both. A few seconds after, the smoke cleared and everyone was treated to the sight of a large birdcage. Inside of it, there was a crow whose hair feathers were ridiculously large and expanded up, almost like the boy's spiky hairdo.

Standing next to the cage, Dorothy chortled, “Well, what do you think? Should I keep him?”

“Well, he’d certainly fit the bill for a flying monkey…” Trent grunted as he made his way back towards the now finished battlefield, Babbo in his arms. Quietly, he wondered why she hadn’t used that strength against the Guardian of the Seal, but decided not to question her to her face.

"Shut up!" The bird cawed in a mockery of Alviss's voice. "And let me go, damn you!"

Tapping the cage, Dorothy had a faraway look in her eye as she murmured, “I had a bird, when I was little… and then D-” She cut herself off, her wistful expression turning to steel as she clamped her mouth shut.

Though he was afraid to speak up, Alphonse sighed.

"Fun as it is to watch the childboy get taken down a peg, could you release him, please?" Alphonse asked as he turned to look at Alviss. "It's your loss, kid. Just take the L and leave."

Dorothy hummed, even as a pair of rings on her pinkies glowed a light green, slowly enveloping the cage before it burst into smoke, releasing the child. “Really kid, you need to shape up. You flail around the Thirteen Totem Pole wildly, and you’re using a Darkness Ärm without even carrying a Holy Ärm to mitigate the effects.”

Alviss didn't respond to the criticism. Just angrily fuming at having been bested the way he was.

Alphonse sighed as he looked over at the boy. 

"Right. I can't say that we expected things to go quite like this, but we had a feeling." He said as he scratched at his arm. "Go back to Gaira, Alviss. I'll take it from here."

"You what?" Alviss snapped back at Alphonse, but the man reached within the recesses of his clothes and he pulled out a chain, at the end of it was something akin to a dragon's head, bound with a muzzle as it bit down on a ring. The ÄRM gave the boy pause as he stared at it.

“Well now, that’s not something one sees pretty much anywhere,” Dorothy remarked with a low whistle. “A Training Gate Ärm… Only one of them though, I’ll need to find the others too.”

Alphonse glanced at Dorothy while he put away the ÄRM. "I'm given to understand the Chess Pieces have a lot of Training Gates. You'll have to try your luck with them for most of them but regardless…" Alphonse turned his attention back to Alviss. "I think you know what it means that Gaira gave this to me."

Dorothy smiled, and despite how bright it looked, there was an edge to it. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Alviss clenched his hand in anger, but he held it in check. "It means he trusts you enough to go and do things yourself. Fine. " 

The boy turned on his heel. "But don't forget you two. The Chess Pieces will be on the move soon. Go play treasure hunters if you want, but don't come crying back if you two are unprepared by the time the war starts."

With a huff, Alviss began walking away, and at the same time, Belle was coming back from taking refuge, reuniting with the boy and looking back at the group in concern.

Alphonse sighed at that.

"And he always gets on my case for being an angry little shit."

Trent, Babbo, and Dorothy shared a look and in unison asked, “And where does he get off saying that when he has the attitude of a kicked wasp nest?”

Chapter Text

Once sure that Alviss was gone. Alphonse let out a sigh of relief, soaking in the silence for a bit before turning to face the pair but mostly looking at Dorothy.

"So!" Alphonse began with what wasn't quite enthusiasm, but rather some pep to his voice. "Putting Alviss's disastrous first impression out of sight and of mind, good afternoon!" He gave a brief bow to the witch. "I'm Alphonse, (sorta) longtime friend of Trent's, also from where he came from. Glad to make your acquaintance."

“Another one, huh?” Dorothy murmured as she studied the Mexican, looking him up and down. “Just how much are they planning to use the Gatekeeper Clown? This is just irresponsible.”

"Well, according to all signs, three at minimum." Alphonse sighed, adjusting the crown circlet on his head. "According to Trent, a mutual friend of ours also got spirited away." The man then crossed his arms and sighed. "That said, Alviss and Gaira are dicks, but they're not liars. Someone has a second Clown."

Dorothy’s lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. After a few moments, her head tilted and she finished, “I suppose so. I can’t say I heard of there being additional Clowns. As for those Ärms of yours… well, I can’t say you don’t have a decent assortment. Something of a theme though.”

"Blame Gaira, these are hand-me-downs from the Cross-Guard." Alphonse sighed "In any case, it wouldn't happen to be a problem if I came along with you two, right?"

“I suppose,” the pinkette replied, her head tilting back. “So, you got a ride of your own or something? Because I’ve got a lead on an interesting Ärm nearby.”

"Sadly, the one Dimension Ärm I've got can't help in that regard." Alphonse shrugged. "Regardless…"

Dorothy’s mouth pulled into a thin line, and she murmured, “I-I don’t know if we’ll all fit on the broom…”

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine,” Trent said with a bob of his head. “We’ll sit in a line, I’ll carry Babbo. It’ll work out.”

"Could work, yeah." Alphonse nodded, glancing at the broom in Dorothy's hands. "That's the one right? It looks long enough to work as a three seater."

“This is going to be awful…” Dorothy mumbled with a grimace.

They did, in fact, all fit on the Zephyr Broom. With just enough room as to not have to be cramped and bunched up together even. 

That, however, wasn't the problem.

Flying relatively low, they bobbed up and down unsteadily. If one listened really closely, they could even hear the sound of an engine sputtering and eating all sorts of shit as it struggled to keep going.

"Aw nuts, I really should have Karen'd at Gaira harder to get a flying carpet or some shit." Alphonse said as he nearly fell off the broom when it fell for a moment.

“I said this was going to be awful,” Dorothy muttered darkly, shaking her head. “You two are weighing me down too much! It was easy enough with Trent and the little freak, but with another person added on!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Trent said, not very convincingly. “We’ll just… need to find another flying Ärm.”

"God, I wish we do. If we somehow find Johan along the way, I am not looking forward to try seeing if we can retrofit this thing into a four seater." Alphonse remarked with a wince on his face.

“If you find another of your friends, you’re all walking,” Dorothy growled.

“Harrumph,” declared Babbo, nestled comfortably in Trent’s arms. “Perhaps you should consider losing some weight, shrew. Your behind is large enough to make even the most corpulent of whales jealous.”

The witch’s face froze, and she hissed, “You little doorstop, did you just say my ass is fat?”

“If your ass is that fat, Dorothy,” Trent added, a smile on his face. “I’d happily trade places with this broom.”

Alphonse was smart enough not to make any remarks about the very pretty, very dangerous lady's shapely rear, but he was not smart enough to hold back the chortle as it turned into a guffaw as the topic continued to evolve.

Dorothy aimed a dark glare at the blond as she very sternly stated, “My ass is not fat. ”

Seeing how fucking slow and uncomfortable the ride was, they decided to just walk, and as they continued moving they could begin to make out the locale holding the Ärm which Dorothy heard about. A castle completely encased in frost and snow, despite being in a relatively temperate area.

"Huh, that's…Pajilinka Castle, I think?" Alphonse remarked and then glanced at Dorothy. "Heard it was abandoned for years, but I never heard a thing about it being frozen over. Is this related to the Ärm we're looking for?"

“Correct,” Dorothy said shortly. “Iced Earth is its name. It’s an Elemental Ärm, but it usually isn’t this powerful. Whoever is using it has a serious affinity for ice and water.”

“Wait, what?” Trent asked, using Babbo’s hammer as a leash to keep him from running off. “Since when were affinities a thing? Also, how do they fit into the Darkness and Holy dynamic?”

"Wait, you didn't have time to give Trent the primer on Ärms?" Alphonse asked Dorothy, and when no answer came he threw his arms into the air. "Ah, whatever! Trent, what do you know about Ärms, just to know where to start?"

“Uh, there are multiple types. Guardians come in all shapes and sizes. Darkness and Holy got some sort of Pokémon dynamic…” the blond listed off before looking at the bouncing, sentient orb. “And Babbo’s fuckin weird to the entire structure.”

“I am not weird!” Babbo protested. “I am an esteemed gentleman!”

“I’m not saying you yourself are weird, I’m just saying you don’t fit within the established structure according to Dorothy,” Trent explained, rolling his eyes as the orb bounced back towards him.

"Well, whatevs. Taking it from the top, but skipping the main question of 'what is an Ärm.'" Alphonse shrugged as he rolled a hand in the air. "There are a bunch of categories Ärms fall into, yes. First are Simple Ärms, which are just tools you can manifest on demand, we don't need to talk about those."

The man pulled back one of his sleeves slightly, revealing a bracelet with a sharp looking mask motif. With a flash, Alphonse was brandishing a basket-hilted rapier. 

"Following that are Weapon Ärms." Alphonse said as he carried and showed the rapier to Trent, careful to point it away from anyone. "Some of them are like Simple Ärms, some get their own exotic properties. So far so good?"

“Makes sense,” the blond grunted, looking down at Babbo. “Nearly fits in that category, if not for certain glaring parts.”

"Right, so after that." Alphonse dismissed the rapier, and Trent saw it transform back into a bracelet with comptentible ease. "After that, you have Darkness Arms . They're hexing tools, you use them to put a curse on someone. They're pretty strong, but you often need to pay a price for it. Sometimes it's small potatoes, sometimes it's lethal. Very much a case by case basis."

“Aight, I can dig that,” Trent said, and was tempted to make a crack about Babbo being a bit cursed, but decided against it.

“You’ve seen Guardian Ärms as well,” Dorothy interjected, lifting up a hand bedecked in Ärms. “The Walking Armour, the Flying Leo, and Brikin are all Guardians. They come in varying levels of power, some being elemental and some not. However, they come with the trade off of not being able to move when you’ve summoned them. Rideable ones are popular for that reason.”

"I got this one, but it's just kind of alright." Alphonse pointed at the circlet crown on his head. "After that, you have Holy Ärms. Support stuff, healing, barriers, curse dispelling….the works. It's good form to carry around a Holy Ärm for the last one, but depending on how strong the curse is, not every Holy Ärm is gonna do the trick."

“Huh,” the blond grunted with a nod of his head. “And the last is Elemental, which is self-explanatory, yeah?”

"Nooooot, really." Alphonse said as he scratched at the back of his head. "Elemental Ärms are…they're weird, sometimes, and a lot of other Ärms have overlap with them. You're right that they don't need much more of an explanation. though." He sighed. "Other than that, you have two more categories. Dimension Ärms, which work for teleportation, communication, observation and pocket dimension bullshit, the 'weird bullshit' category where stuff like Alviss's Thirteen Totem Pole, and…probably Babbo, although I'd put him on a whole tier on his own."

“There’s another type,” Dorothy interjected quietly, now sounding quite grim. “Ghost Ärms, which fuse into the user’s body once they’re activated. They’re rare, they’re powerful, and almost always look grotesque. They are akin to Darkness Ärms, although they lack any weakness to Holy.”

"Huh…" Alphonse blinked as he stared at the road ahead blankly, before a grimace formed on his face. "Gaira never mentioned those. Of course he didn't."

“He probably doesn’t even know they exist,” Dorothy said with a shake of her head. “Very rare, very few in number. And for good reason.”

"No, I'm going to bet you actual money he knew, but just didn't tell me." Alphonse groaned as he slumped forward exaggeratedly, but still kept pace before he straightened up in a moment. "I'm serious by the way, want to put a wager on it and see later?"

“No, I doubt you have much money, and your Ärms aren’t all that interesting,” the Witch shot back with a shake of her head.

“I don’t have anything to bet,” Trent added with a shrug.

"I can put it on the house for you bud." Alphonse shrugged. "What about…three thousand Drächmä?"

“Kid stuff,” Dorothy laughed, her spirit buoying and her mouth pulling into a grin.

"Damn, you drive a hard bargain, lady." Alphonse raised a brow. "But how much do you actually have on your person and how much is just net worth though?"

“Mostly net worth, I’ll admit,” Dorothy answered, pulling Brikin’s bracelet off her wrist. “This guy here is enough to match your little sum. As for the total… more than a few million?”

"Whew, talk about a grindset." Alphonse chuckled.

“Damn, Dorothy was actually a money mommy…” Trent murmured to himself, his eyes averted from the way light bent around her.

“Don’t be fooled! She might be affluent, but she’s also a shrew!” Babbo warned, bouncing against Trent’s side.

“I’ll forgive you this once,” Dorothy said, jabbing the Ärm between the eyes. She then swatted the back of Trent’s head and remarked, “And I’m not old enough to be a mother. I’m only seventeen after all.”

Trent didn’t believe that for a minute. Neither did Alphonse, and of course Babbo, and the last of them made it known. “Maybe if you double the number…”

“Fine, fine, seventeen season four, if you need me to be entirely honest,” Dorothy grunted with a roll of her eyes. “But really, I’m not so old that I have kids. I don’t even have any nephews or nieces!”

"Wait, how long is each season?" Alphonse blurted out.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dorothy answered, even as her head tilted to the side. “Wait, do you two hear that?”

“Oh, you mean I wasn’t just imagining someone shouting in my ear for the past while?” Trent asked.

"I didn't hear it, but that's just mostly my mild hearing loss." Alphonse remarked offhandedly and he looked at the skies with a grimace. " Thanks Alviss. "

“He’s that cacophonic, huh?” Trent said with a wince.

“You’re kidding right?” Dorothy chuckled as she twirled her broom. “The guy has little man syndrome. He probably shouts all the time to feel big.”

"I was actually only half joking about him clacking the damn totem poles too close for comfort for me, but that works too." Alphonse chuckled, despite the somewhat worrying statement he'd just put out. "But that's that and this is this. Where's it coming fro- Ah, over there!"

In the distance, there was what looked to be a tiny dog-man, dressed up like he had escaped a Chippendales, loudly bawling at a figure clad in a long black robe with a hooded mantle and a belted pouch at their hip. The figure was making what appeared to be conciliatory motions with their hands, but as the fearsome foursome drew near, they turned, revealing the worried face of a bespectacled man. 

Trent lifted his hand to the pair, and called out, “Aloha you two!”

The stripperific dog-man briefly stopped his lamentations to look over at the group, eyes still teary and face still red, in spite of fur not working that way. The cloaked man, however seemed to tense, then barked in a very familiar voice, “Trent? Fuck, is that you!?”

"Johan, you son of a bitch!" Alphonse immediately grinned ear to ear as he moved towards him, a hand rising up to slap against his other displaced friend's.

Johan, however, ignored the reference and tackle-hugged the man, lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. “Alphonse!” Johan yelled, voice wavering with emotion.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Babbo hollered as Trent charged forward, dragging the Ärm along without a thought.

The blond slammed into Alphonse’s back, sandwiching the Mexican between him and Johan as he shouted, “We’re all back together, hell yeah!”

In a moment of extremely heterosexual love towards his fellow men, Alphonse couldn't help but let out a sniffle. It was definitely because of that and not because getting suddenly sandwiched between the two made him wheeze. 

Or was it torta'd? Eh, the order of the countries wasn't right but whatever.

Peeking over Alphonse’s shoulder, Trent asked, “Wait, Johan, who summoned you? The angy babby who summoned Al and I said they only used their Clown twice.”

Johan blinked at the phrasing, but as he opened his mouth to reply, the dog-man Johan had been consoling let out a howling sob and bawled, “Please, sirs! I beg you, help me! My mistress, she—she has been captured!”

“And you need that CBT that only she can deliver,” Trent said without missing a beat, not even registering what he was saying.

“Bruh.” Johan let out, snorting in spite of himself. Alphonse had no such compunctions and cackled loudly in his place. Dorothy, approaching the group at a more sedate pace, let out a laugh of her own.

The dog-man, however, turned an even deeper shade of scarlet, coming to resemble a midget in a Clifford fursuit as he spluttered, “H-h-how dare you insinuate such an inappropriate thing! What acts I, Edward, Leal Hound of Lestava, might or might not engage in while off-duty has absolutely nothing to do with my relationship with my liege—a relationship that is strictly professional, I might add!” He planted his paws on hips in an effort to look imposing, which was rather undermined by his stature, his fetishwear, and the unscientifically crimson colour of his fur.

Trent hummed, and then shrugged, “Well, whatever. You need help or something? Because I’ll be real, we kind of have places to be. Like that frozen castle.”

Edward’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Whatever for? That happens to be where the dastards who captured Her Highness Princess Snow have made their lair, so if you lot are in kahoots with those fiends, I’ll—I’ll…!” He raised a clenched paw in what was probably supposed to be a threatening stance.

“Nah, we just want the Iced Earth,” Dorothy chimed in, a thoughtful look on her face. “Although, if those captors have any nice Ärms, I’ll happily take those too.”

The Leal Hound narrowed his eyes further, frowning at Dorothy. “The Iced Earth belongs rightfully to Princess Snow, so it is far from my place to make any promises on that front. However, the dastards who took her captive are none other than a pair of Rooks of the vile Chess Pieces!”

Alphonse's expression hardened immediately as soon as that tidbit was brought out. "Shit. They're here? In Pajilinka? "

“They’re certainly out in the boonies,” Dorothy remarked blithely, before turning her gaze upon Edward. Her expression hardened as she bared her teeth. “And let me assure you: Iced Earth is rightfully not hers.”

Edward bristled, letting out a low growl that was surprisingly vicious for a beastman of his minute stature, but before things could escalate Alphonse cut in.

"Not the time." He said with a shake of the head. "Point is, Chess Pieces are here. We need to get them before they move on to burn the villages for shits and giggles."

“Indeed.” Johan said, fiddling with a pair of rings on his hands with a pinched expression. With a muttered phrase and twinned bursts of light, a weapon appeared in each of his hands: in his right, a black-bladed sabre with a golden hilt and crossguard, and in his left, a black-bladed main-gauche with a silver hilt and handguard.

“Agreed,” Trent added, tapping his foot. “It’s a good way to prove to the child that we’re actually willing to help fight the Chess, and it’s a good way to loot them of any Ärms they might have in the process.”

Behind them, Dorothy rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Babbo let out a proud noise as he remarked, “Very good, lads! This is a wonderful step down the road of dandiness!”

Johan turned to regard Babbo with a raised eyebrow. “Wait, who were you again?”

“Ha, to think I failed to introduce myself!” the Ärm declared. “I am the wandering gentleman, the finest dandy MÄR-Heaven has ever seen, the illustrious Babbo!”

Johan reached over and shook Babbo’s hammer, even though Trent was still holding it. “Good to meet you; I’m Johan, friend to these two goons.”

There was a vibe of general agreement between everyone present, though Dorothy was clearly the one least sharing the sentiment.

Chapter Text

They stood in front of the castle. The trip fortunately took less thanks to the BDSM dog  having a literal flying carpet that they used to close the distance. Dorothy was rather happy about that. She considered mugging the dog for it, but it was too tacky so she refrained.

The castle itself was a rather run of the mill fantasy design, but it was overtaken completely by ice, to the point that the air itself was chilled.

"Here we are, Pajilinka Castle." Alphonse asked, looking over at the gate, then at the dog. "You are sure we're facing two Rooks, right?"

The GIMPooch gave a nod as he replied, “That is what the louder of the two dastards introduced themselves as, at least. The other one was quiet…too quiet, like she was less a girl and more a doll.” The leatherdoggie shuddered at the memory.

“Very cool,” Trent said as he tilted his head to the side. “Were they alone?”

“I didn’t see any others,” Edward admitted, “but I did smell another group as I was escaping. Likely a squadron or two of Pawns, if I had to guess.”

“Great,” the blond grunted as he spun Babbo’s hammer in his hand. “So, what’s the plan for going in there? We just going straight for the prize, or are we trying to scour the place?”

Johan hummed, adjusting his glasses while being careful to not stab himself with his parrying dagger. “I vote we go for the Rooks; we don’t want them coming up on our flanks when we’re engaging the Pawns. Plus, I imagine they’ll be the ones who have the Princess.”

"Seems like the most sensible choice. We find them and bar them in to avoid getting snuck up on by the Pawns." Alphonse nodded. "Other option is someone splits off and goes to take care of them."

“Makes sense, I guess,” Trent hummed, tapping his foot. “Well, I’m fine with heading in and grabbing the princess.”

“In that case, leave the mooks to me,” Dorothy interjected, spinning her broom in hand. “It’ll set a good baseline of whether I should bother with them in the future or just ignore them for the more important ones.”

Babbo snorted, “Why am I not surprised by your assertion and drives, harridan?”

The witch didn’t even bother to reply, instead just dropping her broom down in his face.

The group opened the gate and began filing in, their roles in the operation pretty clear. Edward guided most of the group on rather quickly, while Dorothy walked in a lot less hurriedly.

As did Alphonse.

"You were planning to fuck the Pawns up regardless of the whole thing, weren't you?" He asked with a glance.

“I was,” Dorothy confirmed with a nod. “As I said, I want to see what they’re working with, and seeing what their lowest rank is equipped with sets a baseline. Then, I’ll see what the Rooks are equipped with after that. It’s unlikely that any of them will have anything of actual value, but it doesn’t hurt to make sure.”

Alphonse sighed.

"Y'know, before all of this, I would have gone off about some moralistic stuff." Alphonse said. "Still think it's messed up, but I've long since run out of sympathy for the Chess Pieces. By and large, the vast majority are unsympathetic, and even today, you can still see the scars of the first war."

Shaking his head, Alphonse twirled his wrist, bringing forth his rapier and slowly moving the Ärm at the shadows in the corridor.

"I do think it's messed up but if anyone is still all in on the Chess Pieces after all that?" He said. "If they're still gung ho about all the murdering and burning of the entirety of MÄR-Heaven? Then I don't care."

Alphonse began moving to follow the rest of the group. 

"Go off queen," He glanced at her with a nod. "The stage is yours."

He proceeded to move forth, leaving Dorothy with the Pawns as they began slinking out of the shadows he had been gesturing towards.

The witch laughed, twirling her broom in hand before pulling a zipper from nowhere. “Now, let’s feed Toto, it’s been a while since he last ate.”

Trent bounced Babbo’s hammer in his hand as they stood in front of a large pair of doors, an almost arctic chill exuding from them. “This is the place, I reckon. Do we just bust down the main doors?”

“Definitely,” Babbo agreed, trying to act as sagely as he could manage.

“Glad you understand,” the Canuck declared as he started to spin Babbo’s chain, earning a yelp from the Ärm as he was whipped around, building up momentum. He looked at his friends, only to realize that Alphonse had disappeared at some point. Focussing on Johan, he asked, “So, want to see a magic trick?”

The other man arched an eyebrow. “Sure. I’m sure I won’t regret it immediately, right?”

“Oh, probably not,” Trent said, he then wrenched his arm forward, sending Babbo at the doors as he willed the Ärm to expand. The massive orb slammed through the doors and the walls surrounding them, and he gestured. “Ta da~!”

Johan rolled his eyes as he brandished his sabre, idly noticing that Edward was cowering behind a nearby pillar. “Ah, the old magic trick of ‘blunt force trauma’; a classic.”

Pulling the chain back, Trent willed Babbo back to his original size as he chortled, “Hey, whatever works, right?”

Johan snorted. “When you’re right, you’re right.”

“Blast it! I am a gentleman , not a wrecking ball!” Babbo snarled as he turned to Trent, only to blink as a hunk of metal bounced off of him.

Following the source of the attack, the trio found the antechamber to the throne room, a long corridor full of suits of frosted over armour and mirrors. At the centre of it, a pair of strange people stood near a massive ice crystal with a girl frozen inside of it. One of the strangers was a tall man, his face covered by a mask that was almost blank except for the strange telescopic eyes. His dark hair was spiked up, and from his long sleeves were a pair of whips with metal on their ends.

The other of the duo appeared to be a young blonde girl wearing a loose tan robe, a skull necklace, and an identical mask to the man on one side of her head. A large suitcase sat at her side, nearly half her height, and her expression was totally dead, with dim blue eyes as expressive as those of a corpse. Indeed, the only thing indicating that she’d registered their presence at all was the small hammer grasped in her right hand.

“Y’know, I’d normally give you points for your entrance, but you kinda seem like you’re gonna get in the way of our mission here,” the man remarked, his whips writhing around him.

“An astonishing use of common sense.” The girl directed at her apparent partner without taking her lightless gaze off Trent, Johan, and Babbo. “Could it be that you’re actually learning, Ian?” Her voice was drier than a desert, utterly bare of inflection or emotion.

“Hey, hey, Loco!” the now-named Ian called out, his head tilting to the side as he laughed. “You’re being way too harsh! Besides, these guys could be interesting right? Given that they got past all the smallfry we left to guard our backs.”

Loco gave a miniscule shrug. “They were intelligent enough to send someone capable to mop up the Pawns, at least.” She slipped her empty hand into her other sleeve, retrieving a small spiked pendant. “That they chose to come after us rather than wait for their allies does imply that we ought not underestimate them, however.” As she finished speaking, she kicked the edge of her suitcase, it creaking open with a burst of fog as a massive straw doll rose from it, easily half-again her height.

“Right?” Ian chortled. “This’ll be great!” He pumped his arms forward, the air screaming as his whips cracked towards the pair.

“Ah, bugger,” Trent declared as he launched Babbo at the girl, deeply worried about what she’d be doing with that doll. He wasn’t going to fuck with weird curse shit.

Meanwhile, Johan engaged Ian, sabre and main gauche snapping out to meet each whip individually. His movements were slightly stilted, but sufficient to keep both him and Trent from getting hit.

The Rook hummed as he adjusted his posture, his whips slamming against Johan’s weapons. “Wassup, kid? You wanna dance?”

Johan quirked an eyebrow as he flicked his wrists, sending the whips cracking to either side before dashing inside Ian’s guard with inhuman speed. “Who’re you calling a kid, junior? I’m twenty-eight; you’re what, eighteen, twenty at the most? Seems like the right age to join a death cult.”

“Pfft, it’s not about death cults or whatever!” the man laughed, his whips tangling and dancing as he twisted about. The ends of his whips bounced off the walls to snap at Johan’s flesh. “Besides, geezer, it’s about fighting! If I’m with the Chess, I’ll get the best fights possible, right?!”

“Oh, good,”Johan curled in on himself to reduce the size of himself as a target, “a fight gremlin.” He then thrusted his sabre at Ian, who snapped a whip around to parry. Johan’s parrying dagger came up and around to meet it, pushing it down and causing Johan to take a hit along his flank. The Rook, rather than gloating, let out a grunt of pain as the sabre bit into his chest and scraped against his collarbone, causing him to leap back a few feet. 

“Well, whatever,” Ian laughed, and sped up slinging his arm forward at Johan, the wind screaming around his whips. “Let’s kick it up!”

Johan let out a ‘tch’ of annoyance before lashing out in turn, repeatedly slamming his blades into the whips roughly, attempting to leverage his enhanced strength and speed to bridge the clear skill gap.

“You’re pretty good, old man, but it seems like you’re having trouble keeping up!” Ian called out as he bounced around, always a step ahead of Johan. “Old age that much of an issue?”

“Still spry enough you haven’t won yet, whippersnapper.” The robed brunet shot back, snapping a few kicks and jabs into the mix as he slashed at Ian. After a particularly effective parry, Johan charged forward and shoulder-checked the Rook, slamming him into a wall and giving his brain a good rattle.

“Now sit your ass down before I put you over my knee, you damn brat.”

Ian chuckled again as he shook his head. “Man, this is great!” Flailing his arms, he bounced his whips off the wall behind him, aiming to rip Johan apart. 

“Damn kids and their endless energy.” Johan muttered aloud, weapons flashing out like black lightning to intercept the writhing metal serpents.

The blond dived past the two at the little girl, following after Babbo, as he aimed to keep her from hitting anyone with her Hollywood Voodoo. That was bad j- He frowned and said, “Probably not a good idea to bring juju into your hoodoo.”

In response, Loco jiggled her pendant at Trent, murmuring, “Negzero.” A spark of black light surrounded the Ärm and Trent simultaneously, causing his limbs to lock up.

“Mm, this is an issue,” Trent admitted as he dropped to the ground, unable to move. His hands tensed around Babbo’s hammer and chain as he looked up at the young lady. “So, if I asked politely, would you let me go?”

“No.” Loco deadpanned, retrieving a nail from somewhere on her person and turning towards her doll. “But your courtesy does you credit.”

Before Loco could drive the nail into the straw doll,  Trent managed to catch a glimpse of one of the mirrors, beside Loco. There was a small glint against it, and he could see a candle that wasn't there reflected on its surface.

With a crash, Alphonse broke through the frost, and slashed at the hand holding the pendant, before swivelling and slamming a foot into her stomach.

"Sorry for the delay!" Alphonse said as Trent felt his limbs able to move again.

Loco gasped for air as she was thrown all the way to the other end of the room with a bloodied hand.

"The save is appreciated!” the blond shouted as he popped upwards, Babbo’s hammer engorging and carrying him off the ground as he spun into an overhead smash on Loco. “Had a plan, but this helps!”

"Troublesome." Loco coughed out as she dodged out of the way as Babbo cratered the ground.

“That’s how we be!” Trent agreed as he threw Babbo’s main body at her, the chain rattling through his hands. For once, the Ärm didn’t protest, and instead wore a look of fierce concentration as he aimed to impact her stomach.

She dodged and dove for her suitcase, with Alphonse charging her. She splashed the blood in her hand at his eyes, stopping him for a moment before she plunged her hand into the case, bringing out what looked like an IV drip and pole, and grasping the needle and pole in her bloodied hand. 

"Bloody Mary." She intoned as the bag filled with blood and exploded into a scythe. Alphonse's rapier locked up in the air, frozen in place. He recalled it and leapt back before Loco could take off his head. 

Stepping past the girl’s slash at his friend, Trent silently brought the warhammer in his hands down, aiming to crack the little girl’s skull open.

Alphonse brought a hand to his circlet, ready to bring out his Guardian Ärm.

Then he froze in place, teeth clenched, and every hair on his body immediately standing on end as he felt the overwhelming pressure of a source of magic far beyond himself, far beyond Dorothy, and even completely outclassing Gaira.

“Y’know,” echoed a scratchy, wheezing voice, the sort that could only come from a three carton a day smoker. It carried such a weight to it that everyone in the hall froze as the person spoke. “I was pretty annoyed that I had to come and check what you shits were up to, why it was taking so long to secure a single castle. But this… this is pretty interesting. Three kids who can fight Rooks, and someone fucking mulched all the Pawns we brought!” Despite the wording, the figure seemed absolutely gleeful as they cackled.

Looming from the shadows was a strange, squat figure, their body wrapped up in a black shroud that was further wrapped in chains, their entire forming seemingly chained to a metal cross that was larger than they were tall. Their head was either covered in Jack-o-Lantern mask, or was a Jack-o-Lantern.

They slid forward, a massive presence as they ignored the battles. “And lookie here, it’s Babbo! C’mere, boy, let’s get you back to Phantom, where you belong.”

The Ärm shook in place, staring at the strange pumpkin-headed man. Shaking slightly, he barked, “N-never! I may not remember who this Phantom is, but I can feel it in the depths of my dandy soul! I would never stand with him willingly!”

The crucified pumpkin hummed, their head tilting to the side. After a moment, they remarked, “Well, haven’t you changed… ain’t that curious? You don’t remember Phantom… and you haven’t transformed a single time this entire fight. Sure, your current wielder’s shown some flair with your base form, but there’s no pzazz…”

The air shifted, and it took the others a moment to register what had changed.

The temperature had skyrocketed as the pumpkin loudly cackled. “There’s no fire!”

Flames erupted through the hall, ice cracking and melting as the pumpkin let out a hoarse, ugly laugh.

Chapter Text

“Ah, they really were all fodder, weren’t they?” Dorothy hummed as she shook her hands, blood flying off them to add to the puddles on the ground. She looked down at her dress, and chortled, “And wearing black makes cleaning up so much easier.”

She stepped forward, over the shredded remains of the pawns she had eviscerated, shaking her head. “And not a single one of them had any interesting Ärms. Ah well, maybe the next tier will be-”

The witch stopped as her hair stood on end, a chill going down her spine. Looking around, she swore as she picked up the pace.

Someone strong had appeared. Not as strong as Diana, but strong enough to give her pause.

“We need to leave. Now.”

Her words were directed at the pair watching her from the shadows, even as she bustled deeper into the castle.

Everything was on fire and it was not entirely the group's fault. As a matter of fact, they were too preoccupied trying not to die. 

"Trick or Treat, kids!"

Halloween cackled, his masked head slapping against the cross he was strapped to. Around him, Jack o'Lanterns spawned from nothingness before spindly bodies grew beneath them, carrying the creatures forward.

A number of them started to trundle after the lads, but a few of them started after Loco and Ian.

“C’mon, let’s have some fun! Hail to the Pumpkin Song!”

Ian chuckled as he dodged backwards from one of the Guardians, shaking his head. “Man, the Chess really are the best!”

"Kingshand!" Alphonse desperately reached for the circlet on his head, which turned into a knight with black armour and gold details. The knight tackled one of the Jack o’ Lanterns away from him.

It proved to be the right move, as it immediately exploded hard enough to blow Alphonse away and send the Guardian he'd summoned all the way next to him.

“Sorry about this, Babbo,” Trent shouted, spinning the Ärm before letting him loose at one of the spindly fuckers.

“If you were actually sorry-” Babbo cut off as he impacted a Jack o’Lantern, which subsequently exploded. Careening through the air, he cried, “-You wouldn’t be planning to do it again!”

The blond shrugged as he tugged on the chain, aiming to send the orb at another one of the Pumpkinheads. “Needs must, my good man!”

Babbo shrieked.

Johan also shrieked, stabbing at the pumpkin abomination chasing him while desperately trying to avoid catching fire. So far, he’d managed, but when one foot landed in a puddle of water, he skidded into a wall. Embers licked at the hem of his coat and he threw himself forward into a roll, smothering the flames.

Ed whined as he darted away from the reaching hands of the Trick-or-Treaters, rolling under the lashing of Ian’s Ärm. He yelped and slid across another puddle. “W-wait! The princess, the princess!”

With a burst the pumpkins exploded and scattered everyone, Halloween grew hands of flame and he wound up to backhand the dog.

"Damn mutt, out of-" The man stopped himself, then let out a throaty cackle. "Oh. Oh! It's you! I thought you died in a ditch, that's fun. That's hilarious!" 

Halloween looked at the lads and pointed at them with his flaming hands. "You maggots are with the Cross-Guard then? Oh, this is rich!" The man turned to his cohorts. "You two sit your asses down, I'm gonna have some fun here!"

They thought everything had gone to hell before. They didn't know a damn thing.

"Antares!" 

Alphonse ducked under a fireball only to have it explode behind him. Trent slammed Babbo into the second, but Halloween grabbed the kendama with a hand and yanked the Canadian straight into a wall. Johan was forced onto the backfoot by smaller fireballs, each exploding like firecrackers before a bigger one threw him off his feet.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Halloween cackled, "Show some backbone before I rip it out of you!"

Alphonse didn't quite rise to the provocation but he quickly resummoned his Guardian Ärm, digging its hands into one of the floor tiles before throwing it at the pumpkin man. 

Halloween brought out a stick with a flaming tip, swinging it and turning the tile into slag before it was completely vaporised — from the side Babbo came in with a scream and slammed into the man's side, but he barely flinched before he turned to Trent. 

From the cross on his back, a plant of meat and crystal grew, creating a budding spire of crimson that towered over everyone combined and ended with a torn, four-pointed flower.

"Try this on for size!" Halloween roared in laughter. "Napalm Death!"

Flame gathered on the flower, condensing into a pinprick glowing like the sun. Just before it shot out, Johan struck just below it with everything he had, pushing it upwards and away from Trent. Alphonse's Guardian then tackled Johan to the ground.

A massive heat wave washed over everyone as the shot went wide and pierced through the ceiling, the room above, the room above that, out of the castle and then completely evaporated a cloud off in the distance.

Halloween cackled as he swivelled and swept the gun barrel-like blossom at the Guardian and Johan, both were sent flying. 

The ice crystal had half-melted and half-shattered, revealing the girl trapped inside, wearing a pink uniform and red shorts, who looked around in a mix of horror and confusion.

"Princess Snow, we have to move!" Edward yelled as he pulled at the girl's collar from behind.

"Ah, playtime is over!" Halloween called as he recalled Napalm Death and he brought out the flaming stick along with a second one. "Let's finish-"

“Pazuzu!” Johan snarled, swiping a hand downwards at Halloween, his knife and sword returned to ring form. The outline of his arm buckled and squirmed beneath his sleeve, even as a miniature tornado touched down in front of Halloween.

Miniature, but still very much a tornado which forced the man back several steps before he growled and swung his arm out, setting the tornado on fire before the wind settled. 

"What the fuck!? " The man howled in anger, "How did-"

A wall collapsed and wind whipped up even higher blowing the flames away from the group. Jumping through the hole, Dorothy quickly scanned the room. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the Ärms Halloween was using, her lips curling as she hissed. Dancing back to the guys, she hollered, “Right, let’s get out of here, you lot! We’re leaving!”

"Oh no, you don't!" Ian yelled as he whipped out his Ärm towards the group, but it was buffeted away by another gust of wind. Halloween didn't interfere, merely tilting his head as he looked at Dorothy in silence.

The group immediately made for the exit, even as Halloween started chuckling.

"Y'know, I'd normally write this off as a complete failure, but I think the Queen will be very interested."

The group got the fuck out of dodge on the flying carpet alone, Dorothy used her broom to create a tailwind and get them out faster that way. After flying in a frenzy for a few minutes, they landed on a cliff overlooking a port town, and everyone laid on the floor. 

"Ah, fffff-" Alphonse hissed out and cut himself off, before letting out a harsh sigh. "Christ on a stick, that was way too close for comfort!"

Laying on the carpet, Trent wheezed, “I ache all over, and my childhood fire trauma is resurfacing, holy shit.”

“You too, huh?” Johan rasped, rubbing his arms and letting out a shudder. “Fuck, I didn’t we’d—”

Edward the gimp-dog let out an affronted noise and interrupted, “Mind your language around the Princess, young man! You are in the presence—”

"Excuse me, but who the fuck are all of you?" The girl they rescued nearly yelled out as she still tried to get her bearings together.

The Princess’ canine retainer let out a scandalised gasp. “Your Majesty!? Where did you learn such vulgar language!?”

The girl in question made to speak, but then looked at Dorothy and just grumbled as she looked down. "At the castle after the Chess took it."

“Cool,” Trent grunted, and lifted his hand. “Nice to meet you, Princess. I’m Trent. My orb-shaped friend is Babbo.”

“Good day, Your Highness,” the Ärm replied, tilting forward in an attempt to bow. “As my retainer said, I am the illustrious gentleman, Babbo.”

Johan gave Snow a little wave of his own, the faint clink of chains audible from his sleeve. “I’m Johan, Princess Snow. Wish it’d been under better circumstances, but good meeting you all the same.”

"Alphonse." The Mexican greeted with heavy breaths as he raised a hand in greeting and let it drop. "And what he said."

“Dorothy. I’m the one who saved your pocket-sized behind,” Dorothy remarked, rolling her eyes.

Snow turned to look at her, her expression bland. “Yeah? Thank you for giving them your fat ass as a target. I’m surprised you didn’t get stuck in the hole in the castle, with how massive it is.”

“You complete fucking fool,” Trent said, still sprawled out on the carpet and staring into the cloudy sky. “You absolute fucking idiot. Fuck you. Fat bottomed girls make this rocking world go round. Never be ashamed of having a fat ass, Dorothy. It’s a gift from god.”

Dorothy didn’t answer, she instead buried her face in her hands.

“Based.” Johan said, shooting a thumb’s up towards Trent as he laid back against the carpet as well. The blond, without looking, returned the gesture.

Alphonse nodded along wisely.

It was at that point that Edward, having finally recovered from his scandalised shock, cleared his throat. “As... dubiously entertaining as all this byplay may be, I do think we ought to make our way to Pelika; both to regroup and recover but also to ensure all of us are on the same page, yes?”

“Sounds like a plan to me, Ed-boy,” Trent said, turning his thumb up at Ed.

And honestly, no one was in any place to argue against the plan, they needed a fucking break.

Chapter Text

The group arrived in Pelika quickly enough. It was a rather quaint little port town that saw goods moving in and out through its markets to rather modest ships. They made their way to an inn, and the BDSM Dog told them to wait at a table while he talked with the innkeep.

After a while of waiting, the table was filled with an amazing spread of food. Roast pork, rotisserie chicken, potatoes served sauteed, baked with bacon and gratin, and in a large stew, rice that looked something like risotto, various veggies as sides and salads, bottles of cider and wine, and a pitcher full of steaming hot cocoa.

Edward cleared his collared throat and clapped his paws together, which didn’t make much noise. “Please, one and all, accept this humble meal as a form of thanks for rescuing Her Highness from those wretched Chess dastards where I could not. Words cannot describe my gratitude for your help, but hopefully this shall communicate a fraction of my thanks.” Ed nodded firmly, then pronounced, “With all that said, please, tuck in to your leisure.”

It was truly a wonderful reward for a group of heroes in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere. They were going to enjoy it to the fullest and nothing could sour the moment for them.

“Big Mcthankies,” Trent declared as he tucked in, cutting into a rotisserie chicken and gathering a large helping of taters. “Gotta say, you may got that Magic Mike look, but you’re alright, Ed.” Beside him, Babbo was devouring an entire roast ham.

Johan gave a nod of agreement, spooning himself a heaping pile of potatoes as well. “I’ll drink to that.” He lifted a mug of cocoa in a mock-toasting motion before taking a swig.

Alphonse let out a sound of delight as he brought a spoonful of the risotto-like rice. "Oh boy, this is the good stuff ! Been a while since I've eaten anything this savoury."

Looking around the table, Snow’s eyes narrowed as they passed over Dorothy, after a moment, she asked, “So… where are you all from? You’re a rather… eclectic group.”

“The CUM Zone,” Trent answered immediately, taking a second to grab some salad.

Alphonse's head hit the table as he started cackling. 

“Blackmore, I will murder you.” Johan said without inflection, shutting his eyes and taking a long sip of cocoa. Alphonse chose that moment to look Trent in the eye with a shit eating grin.

"Really, Trent!?" He said in mock-horror, not even containing his giggles. "In front of the salad!?"

Arching an eyebrow, Trent took a moment to toss the salad with the utensils. “What can I say? I like my salad sauced and tossed .” He then burst out laughing.

Ed, who’d become gradually redder as the three idiots bantered, finally let out a noise akin to a dying whale and demanded, “For the love of all things sacred in MÄR-Heaven, never utter the word ‘cum’ in Her Highness’ presence again.”

“Ed, I know what that is,” the princess remarked tiredly. “I’m a princess , not a nun.”

The GIMP dog turned to look at her tiredly. “ Please , Princess. Permit me the delusion of pretending that you’re still that precocious-yet-innocent girl I met all those years ago, if only for a moment.” He let out a long sigh. “It has been…a long day.”

"Look Ed-me-boy, it's not our fault your mind is in the gutter." Alphonse cackled. "It's an acronym! The CUM Zone. Canada, United States, Mexico!"

Johan opened his eyes and set down his mug. “...That just makes me angrier.” He palmed his face with a sigh. At his reaction, Alphonse just laughed harder.

Ed quirked his head to one side. “I’ve never heard of those places. Are they across the sea, perhaps near Ragenrave?”

Alphonse's laughter started to die down as he shook his head. "No, no, we're not from around here. Definitely not Ragenrave either. It's a pretty long story, no matter how you slice it."

“No it isn’t,” Trent argued, shaking his head. “We got kidnapped by a clown-gate hybrid, and dragged to this world. Less than twenty words.”

Ed inhaled sharply, eyes widening, but before he could speak Alphonse replied to Trent.

"Like…yeah, but it's more fun to spin the yarn a little bit, you know?" The Mexican said. "Besides, it's missing out on all the cultural context and stuff."

“Hold for a moment, my good men.” Ed interjected. “Am I to presume that you are referring to the Gatekeeper Pierrot? Last I heard, the Cross-Guard were gathering up the rare few of those Ärms that remained.”

From where she was sitting, a glass of wine in hand, Dorothy’s eyes narrowed as they tracked over to Ed.

"Ah, yes." Alphonse noted. "Matter of fact, they summoned me and Trent." 

The Mexican grabbed the cider and began to serve himself a cup. "It's a whole thing, but well…thinking on it, that tomato jackass assumed we were with the Cross-Guard and we didn't really say anything about the matter. He just looked at you…"

He raised a brow and glanced at Edward, wondering if he'd answer.

“Ah. That.” Ed replied, rubbing a paw at the back of his head. “Well…hm. Perhaps I should allow him to explain that in my stead.” With that, the dog grabbed a mug and took a massive swig of cocoa before dropping to the ground almost instantly, foaming at the mouth.

“Bro what the fuck!?” Johan yelped, moving to stand but tripping over his chair and falling on his ass.

"What." Alphonse flatly said as he stared at the scene unfolding before him.

“Great Scott!” Babbo exclaimed, the last dregs of the ham falling from his mouth to splatter onto his plate.

Dorothy blinked and pulled back at the apparent suicide, while the princess just kept sipping her own cocoa.

“Jesus Christ!” Trent roared as he jumped from his seat, running towards Ed. As he reached the prone dog, though, Edward’s body was engulfed in light. For a moment, the light was blinding. In the next instant, it faded, and in Edward’s place was a severe looking tan man, his spiky brown hair pulled into a ponytail. There was a goatee on his chin and a pair of deep, clawmark-like scars on his right cheek. The man rubbed at his eyes and blinked, scanning the room with a perplexed expression.

"Y'know what, this isn't the first time he's pulled this and it still gives me whiplash when he does it. "

Straightening and collapsing into his chair, Johan brought a hand to his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What. The. Fuck? ”

The man shrugged and nonchalantly pulled the chair closer to the table and lifted Edward's plate as he raised his voice. "Hey innkeep, new dishes please! Sorry for the bother!" 

He then looked over at the group and waving his hand in front of his free hand he said. "Eh, calm your tits y'all, Ed's fine ." 

“Yeah, sure, cool, a dog just fucking devoured chocolate, definitely calming,” Trent grumbled, shaking his head as he slowly pulled himself over to his seat.

"He's not a dog. Looks like one, but biology's way different, he'll piss it out when he comes to. It'll burn real bad, but he's into that; y'all saw how he dresses and y'all joked about it ." The man dismissed the concern without worries as the innkeeper took the plates and gave him new ones, looking just as blown out as everyone else as he left.

Johan made a strained noise. “That—bruh, there’s a difference between masochism and poison .”

“Talk about living the lifestyle,” Trent said tiredly, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “I’d really appreciate it if he didn’t make me an accessory to it.”

“Fucking same. ” Johan bit out, massaging his brow.

"Don't we all?" The man chuckled as he started grabbing food as well. "Regardless. Name's Alan, from the Cross-Guard."

"Wait, what the fuck?" Alphonse looked at the man with a critical brow. "You mean the one Alan that fought in the war against the Chess? Cross-Guard's second strongest?"

"Sure kid. I don't sign autographs," Alan snorted, a smug look on his face.

"Shut the fuck up, dude, I hate the Cross-Guard, even if I'm working for them." Alphonse scoffed at the man, who flinched and let out an annoyed grumble. "Where were you after the war ended?"

"Hey, look here, I…" Alan looked over at the princess suddenly before grumbling and sighing. "Look, it's complicated. Long story short, me and Edward got cursed by Halloween, that tomato-headed bastard y'all fought, with a nasty Darkness Arm called Igniel."

“Weird flex, why’d you reckon he went for that? It’s weird, but it doesn’t seem crippling,” Trent grunted, crossing his arms. “Unless his CBT affects you too,”

“Igniel’s a lot more than that, especially given that it’s a Darkness Ärm with no actual side effects or backlash,” Dorothy interjected, now studying Alan carefully. “It’s one hell of an Ärm, given that it also seems to dodge most Holy Ärms. So old man, you’re the three snoozes and the gimp’s the one snooze?”

"Ye p ." Alan popped the P as he reached for the risotto, his mood settling back. "Nasty thing. I only get to come out once every time the pooch sleeps three. Pain in the ass, I'll tell you that right now, but it is what it is."

The man took a breath and looked at the three.

"And he just knocked himself out to get this conversation out of the way immediately. Good choice on his part, because I've got a lot of questions and you lads have a lot to explain."

He pointed at Alphonse. "So you say the Cross-Guard summoned you with the Pierrot?" 

"Yeah, by Gaira himself." Alphonse shrugged, just deciding to go back to eating as he went through it. "Then he tossed the ring at a kid called Alviss and he summoned Trent, breaking it along the way."

"Alviss…" Alan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Good to know he's alive, but…damn it."

He sighed but then moved on. "Well, topic for another day. Next up, you." Alan pointed at Trent before chomping on a chicken leg and pointed again at Babbo, who had just finished downing an entire bottle of wine. "How'd that happen?"

“The clown dropped my ass from the sky, Dorothy decided to test how strong I was by siccing a tin man on me,” the blond summarised, flipping up his fingers as he went over events. “Then she recruited me to help get Babbo, and we… did? Now we’re hanging. Babbo’s got PTSD from the Phantom guy too, apparently. Oh, and we met Al and the angry child in…I forget the name of the city.”

Alan shook his head.

"Right, in order…" He pointed between Trent and Dorothy. "You two fucked up, I hope you realize."

“We’ve heard, but your signage was shit, not even noting the consequences,” Dorothy noted dryly, swirling her glass of wine. “Also, spreading tales of a rare, unique Ärm? That’s asking for trouble and canny people to show up.”

"Now that last one isn't on me and I don't know who was the fucking dipshit who started speaking." Alan chewed on his chicken leg with a deep look of annoyance. "And the real signage was Brikin and the chest. You just lucked out when you found Trent, witch."

The redhead chuckled quietly, but tapped her wine glass. “Now that’s a curious assertion. What do you mean by that, geezer?”

"Huh, what, did you not look at the chest?" Alan snorted as he looked at Dorothy. "You've made it no secret you know your Ärms real well. Ever heard of Elpis?"

Leaning over to Babbo, Trent muttered, “Good for you, Babbo, you’re hope!”

Dorothy meanwhile let out a low keening noise as she reached up to press a hand over her eyes. “Oh- Oh no. Oh fuck . Elpis, the storage Ärm that can only be opened by someone with no magic. No wonder you paired it up with a hardy Guardian like Brikin. I feel so stupid , I didn’t even stop to look at the chest.”

"Got it in one. You already built up magic? Good luck opening Elpis. You didn't? Good luck getting past Birkin." Alan shook his head. "Not an impossible situation, but it wasn't likely anyone would be prepared for that without any forewarning."

Alan put aside the bone and served himself more food. 

"Unfortunately, nothing we can do about it now. Looks like you're aware of what's gonna happen now that Babbo's seal is undone." He said. "Moving on. Alviss. You met him, then?"

“I gave him one of the spankings his parents missed,” Dorothy replied dryly.

He looked at the witch with a scrutinising glare.

"Nice, do you feel great about beating up a dying orphan?" He asked.

“The dying part is new,” Dorothy replied, swirling her wine. “And it’s not like he’s the sole orphan out there. He wants to be a shit? He’ll get slapped for it.”

Reaching out, Trent put a hand on the witch’s shoulder. It was clear that Alan was more invested than he tried to let on. “Dorothy, let’s just… slow the roll.”

For his part, Alphonse just clamped up as he remembered the time he mentioned them having all the time in the world. If true, then that just looked…really bad in hindsight.

"Zombie Tattoo. It's been six years."

That was all the explanation the man gave.

Dorothy’s eyes widened, and her head dipped. “Hardy brat, I’ll give him that. I’m guessing he’s been tearing around looking for a cure or something to put down the source?”

"I don't know; I ended up elsewhere after the stint with Halloween and Igniel." Alan remarked with a shake of the head. "Regardless. Going to need to talk with him. I don't have all the time in the world, so I'll move it along." He pointed at everyone sans the princess. "What are you all going to do?"

“Fight this Phantom guy and the Chess,” Trent grunted. “I said I would, and he’s apparently fucked with Babbo to the point that he haunts his nightmares. That’s enough for me to agree to revoke his breathing privileges.”

Johan nodded in agreement. “I’m in full agreement with that sentiment. I promised that I’d fight to protect the children of MÄR-Heaven from the Chess, and I intend to keep that promise.”

"I'm kicking their asses too." Alphonse crossed his arms. "I'm not happy about the circumstances, but Gaira's shown me some of the shit the Chess got up to during the last war. No way in hell am I going to sit and let them start it all over again."

Alan looked at the three of them for a few seconds before he threw his head back in wild laughter. 

"No hesitation. You all are goddamn insane." He said then gave a wild grin. " Exactly what we need. This takes me back to when I met Danna."

Alphonse blinked as he looked over at Alan. "Wait, you mean that Danna? The one who got Phantom last war?"

"The same." Alan said as he looked at the puzzled expressions on Trent and Johan's faces. "Danna's the number one of the Cross-Guard. Was. He was summoned from another world using the Pierrot as well, and he didn't even hesitate for a second before throwing himself into the fight. I still remember what he told me like it was yesterday."

A fond look crossed the scarred man as he closed his eyes.

"'This is a world of fairytales and fantasy, full of hope and love. You can't just shove in such a ridiculous, hamfisted, cackling maniac like that.' he said. 'I won't stand for it, and I'm showing them what we should pass on in our stories.'"

"He was a real inspiration." Alan said as he sighed, then he looked over at Dorothy. "But regardless. What about you, witch? Just going to sit tight or are you going to do something about this little rigamarole?"

“Oh, I plan to get involved,” Dorothy replied, her head tilting to the side. “Igniel, Smashing Pumpkins, Trick or Treat, the Jack-o-Lanterns, those alone are proof enough that the Chess will lead me to what I want.”

"You're real sketchy, but as long as you don't start causing problems, you're in the clear, witch." Alan said with a raised brow before regarding the rest of the group, sizing them up for a moment. "That said though? You three are going to get mulched if the war starts anytime soon." He pointed at Alphonse, "Theater nerd over there stands the best chance, but I can barely feel a smidge of magic from you," he pointed at Johan, "and nothing from you." he pointed at Trent. "If you're going to use Babbo, it'd be pretty embarrassing not to use him to the full extent of his potential, don't you think?"

“…are you talking about what Pumpkinhead was going on about?” Trent asked. “Something about Babbo transforming?”

"Take a good look at the hammer. Notice anything?" The man asked.

Pulling it out and spinning it in his hand, the blond hummed, “Divots, eight of them.” Reaching up and poking them, he added, “Were they for gems or something to be set in?”

"Magic Stones. They're special crystals that you can use to upgrade certain Ärms." Alan pointed at Alphonse's head. "Drama queen over there has a slot for the one he's wearing there."

"Drama queen, he calls me." Alphonse rolled his eyes. "That's all of us. "

"Ugh, phenomenal. " The man rolled his eyes as well, deliberately forgetting about how much of a drama queen Danna sounded like just from what they heard of him. "But regardless; Magic Stones can enhance an Ärm with new abilities, based on the user's imagination, but only within reason."

Then Alan pointed at Babbo's hammer.

"Now eight slots?" He said. "That's not rare. That's legitimately unique, and so is everything about Babbo. His restrictions on what he can become are apparently a lot looser than literally any other Ärm in existence. You wouldn't believe the sort of forms Phantom was able to give him and just how much damage they could cause."

“Oh neat,” Trent hummed, inspecting the slots while Babbo sweated in his hands. “Would be a good way to get home when all is said and done.”

“Neat, but useless,” Dorothy noted. “Magic Stones are fittingly rare, and valuable because of that. You’ll have enough trouble filling one slot, let alone eight.”

Alan laughed in the witch's face as he reached behind him. 

"Might be nice to split them." The man said. "Trent, you get three. Al, the Kingshand's alright, but a stone should help out a lot to round out your weaknesses."

As he said that, he pulled his hand forward, and stuck between each finger were four black pearls.

“What sort of asshole are you?” Dorothy asked, her brow furrowed. “Just pulling out that much money.”

"Weren't we talking about your net worth a while back and you ended up pulling Brikin and saying you had a lot more than that?" Alphonse pointed out flatly, but internally just grinning.

The pink-haired woman was silent, looking away from the conversation.

Chapter Text

After finishing up their meals, they decided to rest for the night, or at least they would have if not for Alan telling them they were going out. They arrived at a nice open clearing in the closest forest.

Cracking his shoulder, Alan looked at all of them before pulling out a rolled up cigarette. Alphonse was about to quip at him about smoking weed in front of a child, but the pungent smell of tobacco when he lit it up was enough to dissuade him.

"Alright, you scamps. So as we've established, you're all fighting the Chess." Alan swept a finger as he pointed at the lads. "And like I said, y'all aren't gonna make it as you are. So for that reason, I'm gonna put you through your paces, and toss you into a Training Gate. Y'all know what that is?" 

Alphonse looked at the other two and just explained. "Great Value Hyperbolic Time Chamber."

Looking up, Trent considered stealing a joke, but decided he was above such things. At the moment.

Johan snorted. “Well, the name’s self-explanatory, if nothing else.”

"Alright, you know what, I'm not even gonna question how that explained anything or if you actually got any context or anything." Alan shrugged. "Point is, I'm shoving you into separate groups and tossing you there so you're actually able to fight something worth a damn."

The man reached into one of his pockets and began to pull out an Ärm before Alphonse yelled at him.

" Woah! Hey, slow the fuck down!" He almost screeched. "Don't even think about putting us all in separate groups you crusty old bastard!"

"The hell you calling me? What do I look like, fuckin' Gaira? " Alan glanced at Alphonse  with a toothy smile, an eyelid twitching in annoyance.

"I'm calling you whatever I damn well please for even thinking it would be a good idea to isolate us in training gates for however long you wanted to do that for!" Alphonse shot back. "Have you any idea how badly that fucked me up when Gaira did it? You're not locking us up with only one or two other people and no one else for sixty days!"

Alan raised a finger in the air.

"No! Guardian Ärms don't fucking count!" Alphonse jabbed a finger towards him.

"Bah, weakling." Alan scoffed. "And I was gonna say I was planning to shove you into the Training Gate for half a year."

“Bruh, that’d be even worse,” Trent pointed out. “I’d probably start thinking I was in love with the other person I was with just due to cabin fever.”

“ Yeah , that’ll be a ‘no’ from me as well, chief.” Johan added. “I might like my peace and quiet, but even an asocial introvert like me needs regular human interaction. It’s, like, a basic human need.”

“I’d make a crack about not understanding mental health, but almost nobody on the planet does,” Dorothy grunted, shaking her head.

"Ah, fine! I'm still putting you all down there for half a year, though." Alan crossed his arms in front of his chest. "The situation is dire, they sent in Halloween. I'm not even expecting you to be able to go toe to toe with that tomato-faced bastard by the time you get out, but as long as you all can hold your ground in a fight with a Knight and can retreat safely, that'll be enough for a while and we'll keep training later."

“How bad is Mister Easter?” Trent asked, tapping a foot on the ground. “Like, you’re really hyping him up.”

"He beat my ass and shoved me into Edward." Alan raised a brow at the name Trent gave the man, but he just continued. "I got my licks in, but I couldn't beat him. And besides, you lot saw how he fought. Did you have fun with that?"

“Mm, not really, no,” Trent agreed with a bob of his head. Turning to look at Dorothy, he asked, “So, how serious was that dust up?”

“Not very,” the witch grunted, crossing her arms. “He could’ve gone a lot harder, based on the Ärms I saw on him.”

Trent hummed, and nodded. “Bad time, then, yeah.”

Alan scoffed.

"And he has more hidden away, you know? Ever heard of Wakan Tanka?"

Johan made a strangled noise. “I don’t know what the Ärm is, but I know that in our world, that’s the Lakota name for the Great Spirit; i.e., a god .” His face pulled into a grimace. “Please tell me that the crucified fuckface hasn’t got a god in chains, let alone a chief one.”

Trent’s face pulled into a scrunched grimace during Johan’s explanation, his shoulders bunching up as he hissed. “Ooh, this ain’t sounding good.”

“Wakan Tanka, Guardian Ärm,” Dorothy remarked, her head tilting to the side as her eyes narrowed. “Shielding, some fire abilities, mostly focused on protection, healing and whatnot, from what I recall. Not an outstanding Guardian, but useful.”

"The fuck are you talking about." Alan looked at her with a grimace. "That thing was nothing like what you described. When he used it, that giant feathered skull just incinerated everyone around him, all of them started screaming in agony after they turned to ash and it started inhaling them before destroying a goddamn mountain just with a ray of heat . Weren't you supposed to know a lot about Ärms?"

Dorothy blinked again, her hands coming together in front of her mouth as she inhaled sharply. “That’s not what Wakan Tanka does. That’s not what it does. ” After that repeated statement, she brought her hands down, eyes wide as she continued, “I- Wakan Tanka’s just a mid-level Guardian with some Holy attributes. What you’re describing… that’s… could it have been corrupted somehow?” Her eyes narrowed as she finished speaking, her mouth pulled into a thin line.

"Hell if I know, but I think that about answers the question of how big a deal that bastard is." He pointed at the lads. "So I'm not hearing any lip about shoving you there for half a year as our starter course , got it?"

“Nope,” Trent grunted with a shrug. “Actually, wait, what’s the temporal dilation like? Half a year for us, how long for you?”

"I'll be sitting here for three days." Alan shrugged. "That's nothing. I've stayed up for longer."

“You’re gonna be dead on your feet at the end,” Trent noted, shaking his head.

"That's a problem for future me and as long as we can get those days in, it'll be worth it." Alan shrugged. "So let's not dilly dally and get this started. Trent, you take those gems I gave you and slot them into Babbo. Alphonse you do the same for the Kingshand and get yourself a goddamn ranged option."

“I… okay?” Trent grunted, pulling out the magic stones and rolling them in his hand. After a moment, he slid one into the top slot on one side of the hammer.

"No other questions?" Alan barely waited before pulling out a Training Gate Ärm, much like Alphonse's and holding it up in front of them. "Good. Have fun."

He swung the Ärm towards them, before the dragon opened its mouth and dropped its ring in the midst of the three outworlders and the witch. With a flash, a door appeared below them before it opened and dropped them into an inky void with no warning. A series of startled yelps escaped the group before it slammed shut.

"Damn, what an annoying bunch." Alan sighed before his eyes went over to the child at his side. "So what did you need to talk about, Princess Snow?"

The girl nodded. There was something bothering her a lot .

It was with a calamitous thump that the four of them landed on the floor of the Training Gate, which was followed by a series of hisses at the sensation of bruised tailbones. Quickly enough, though, the fearsome foursome found their footing and looked around the strange place they’d been so unceremoniously deposited into.

The first thing they noticed was the sky—or rather, the lack of it. From horizon to horizon, there was naught but a black void, with nary a star in sight. Despite this, they had no trouble seeing the landscape of the pocket dimension, which could probably be chalked up to Ärm Bullshit. As for the aforementioned landscape, it wanted for little in terms of  variety. In one direction, Johan spotted a babbling brook and what looked to be an orchard beyond it, and in another, Alphonse spied a genuine pyramid . Off in a third direction was a quarry filled with stones and boulders of various shapes, sizes, and conditions of wear and tear, most likely from being used as training dummies by previous tenants. 

As the group of four took all this in, there was a puff of smoke beside them, from which emerged…well. There was no diplomatic way to put it: out bounced a busty catgirl maid, who gave the group a wink and a “peace” sign.

“Hiya! My nyame is Merilo, Meowster Alan’s Guardnyan Ärm!” The words tumbled out of her mouth like an avalanche of bricks even as her mouth curled into a cheshire grin. “I’ll be helping you kittens learn how to fight and make use of your internyal meowgic!”

“I was alright initially, but then you went nuts with the puns,” Trent grunted, shaking his head.

Meanwhile, Johan was doubled over laughing. “On one hand, I get you.” He managed between giggles. “On the other…well, it’s cringe or be cringed, Trent me boy.”

"Could have been worse." Alphonse sighed and shook his head. "No, I refuse to elaborate."

There was a pause from everyone before Babbo groaned loudly. "Goodness, I'm feeling sick."

"I mean the puns are what they are but…" Alphonse trailed off as he looked over at the kendama and saw it looking pale and sweaty, despite being made of metal.

“I’ve heard of stomach turning puns,” Trent grunted, looking down at the Ärm. “But this is clearly something a bit more serious. Is it even possible for an Ärm to get ill?”

At this, Merilo dropped her cutesy expression and frowned, peering at the sweaty ball. “A Darkness Ärm might be able to have an effect like a sickness on an Ärm, but I don’t think that’s the case here.” The sudden lack of cat puns from the maid was a bit jarring, but it was probably warranted under the circumstances.

"Oh, I think it's beginning to pass-" Babbo seemed to relax before flinching and bouncing in the air repeatedly. "No, it's worse!"

"Goddamn it, Alan!" Alphonse slapped his face. "I figured it out, it's the magic stones! Trent, you need to keep your mind blank, right now!"

“You fucking fool,” Trent retorted. “My mind’s a fucking empty plane. Not even a tumbleweed.”

And at that moment, Babbo stopped jumping, his eyes blanked out, then he rolled listlessly until his nose stopped him from going further.

“Bruh.” Johan eloquently remarked, expression flat.

“Babbo?” Trent asked, lifting the Ärm up and gently shaking him. “Y’alright little buddy?” Receiving no reply, he hummed, “Mm, don’t like this.”

He eventually got a reply in a voice with a dead cadence.

"Searching for magic stone data…" Babbo spoke like a text-to-speech machine, toneless and with words sounding more like they were being said individually in sequence. "No data found, please input new data."

“So… what does this mean?” Trent inquired, his off hand coming up to poke Babbo’s blank face. “Input data… anything?”

“Seems like it,” Dorothy said, stepping forward to study Babbo. “This is odd in its own right. Adding magic stones to an Ärm increases its abilities or potency, potentially turning regular weapon or simple Ärms into Nature or stronger weapon Ärms. In this case… given how odd Babbo is, it could very well be anything.”

"As I understand it from what Gaira mentioned, Babbo could take on various forms and attributes." Alphonse explained. "Magic stones make Ärms stronger, but most of the time they can't be made into something too far beyond its original shape and purpose…sans one recent exception."

Alphonse clapped his hands and added. "And essentially, you get to shape the power you get with magic stones using your imagination, and so-"

"The powers of Gränd Ärm Babbo are for you to decide." Babbo cut in. "Please input new power data."

A buzzing rang out before Babbo flashed white a couple times. "Instructions for use: Please imagine a form and power in your mind. Upon doing so, Babbo will output said form and power. The likeness of the transformation is directly linked to the powers of your imagination. Instructions finished. Do you have any queries?"

Trent hummed, lifting Babbo further into the air. “Are there any limits?”

"Parsing query...processed." Babbo replied. "Answer: The limit is your imagination. However, power output will depend on user's magic power."

Johan let out a low whistle. “Damn. No wonder he’s such a big deal. ‘Gränd Ärm’ is right.”

That caused Dorothy to grumble. “I still have no idea what a ‘Gränd Ärm’ is… ”

"One way or the other it just goes to show how crazy strong Danna was, fighting Phantom when he had Babbo." Alphonse nodded.

"No further queries detected." Babbo said. "Please input new power data."

Alphonse and Johan looked at Trent, smiling and looking at him with expectation and in askance.

The blond let out another hum, his mouth cracking into a grin. “Yeah. I can work with this.”

Trent took a deep breath as he stood in front of a massive stone tablet. On the ground, shards and chunks of the tablet were strewn about, enough to create five other tablets. In the blond’s hands, Babbo rested and the Ärm watched the tableau thoughtfully.

“Kind of frustrating,” the blond grumbled, shaking his head.

“Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to use the transformation?” Babbo asked, his eyes tracing the tablet. “Given its explosive nature, it would allow for the tablet to be annihilated.”

Laying on her broom, her head propped up with a single hand. “Technically, that would work. But it goes against the spirit of the lesson. You need to find the single point on the tablet that, if you destroy it, will cause it to crumble. It doesn’t matter what sort of weapon you use. You need to use magic to open your mind’s eye and locate it.”

“And that’s the issue,” Trent said, bouncing the hammer in his hand. “I need to use magic, thus I need to feel it.” Closing his eyes, he tried to reach for something, an intangible nothing, an ether in the air.

Lashing out, his eyes snapped open as he sent Babbo into the bottom corner of the tablet, shattering it. Rock and stone crumbled and fell to the ground, only for a new one to appear in its place as Trent retracted Babbo.

The blond clicked his tongue and tapped his foot as he narrowed his gaze. “Annoying.”

“Trent, just use the transformation,” Dorothy advised, rolling her eyes. “It should help you at least get a feeling for magic.”

“Oh.” Trent pursed his lips, and let out a sigh. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

Babbo lit up as the blond focused with his eyes closed, shifting and lengthening as the Ärm changed. He felt an energy ripple through the Ärm, and tried to find it within himself. After a moment, he found a wellspring within him.

Tapping into that wellspring, he kept his eyes closed, pulling the energy into his mind’s eye. Reaching out to put his other hand on the hilt, he stood silently.

Focusing with his mind’s eye, he tried to stare at the tablet.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, as his muscles tensed. Trent uncoiled as he sprang forward, stabbing into the tablet.

A moment passed, before the sound of stone crumbling filled the air.

Dorothy let out a hum, even as Trent refused to open his eyes, just in case he had failed again. “Congratulations. Now you get to move onto the next lesson.”

Trent opened his eyes to see the destroyed mural, for once having not been replaced. He let out a sigh as Babbo returned to his base form, and then looked over at the now grinning Dorothy.

The witch rolled off her broom, pulling it out of the air and spinning it in her palm. “Now, you have to survive me. ”

Trent didn’t know whether to be scared or turned on.

Alphonse took a deep breath as he slid back and dodged the fist of a stone golem, his rapier lashed out managing to cut the rock but not actually doing any damage that wasn't fixed in a moment.

"Nyahaha." Merilo chuckled as she looked over at Alphonse's attempts from a pillar. "I'm nyot sure what meowster Gairnya was thinking when he gave you that Ärm. It's kind of piddly like a mouse, nya?"

"It." Alphonse grunted as he dodged and weaved through the golem's attacks. "Is. Very strong! It just needs! To build up!"

"Build up what, nya? Or are you telling meow you have perfomnyance issues?" The catgirl Ärm asked with a grin as Alphonse was launched back by the golem, tumbling back several times. 

Groaning as he rose to his feet, he looked at the inscription on the blade, finding the words were no longer there. As the golem charged him, Alphonse got on his feet and raised the rapier in a pose, his left arm crossing to his other side and placing the pommel against his right shoulder as he pointed the blade to the approaching enemy.

With the flat of the blade close to his throat he took a breath and the metal began reverberating as he spoke with a melodic tilt.

" I advise you to comply

my instructions should be clear. "

The golem stopped dead on its feet and trembled.

" You shall plunge your hand

into your breast. "

In a single instant, the creature of stone did as bidden, slamming its fist into his chest with enough force to shatter its torso completely and pelting Merilo with chunks of rock.

"Hey, nyot fair! At least warn meow!" 

"Sorry, not sorry." Alphonse shook his blade with a flourish before the inscription 'I advise you to comply' engraved itself into the blade.

"Very funnya, you little rat!" Merilo shot back. "Just for that I'm going to make you use that new form of your Guardnyan Ärm! I don't care how exhausting it is when you're going full throttle! You won’t get so much as a catnap until I’m done with nya’!"

Alphonse sighed. "Giggity. And here I thought I would get some rest after last night."

"Hey! Don't say it like that to inyaite mewsunderstandings!" Merlio replied angrily.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, who made the joke first?" Alphonse glared at the catgirl before an impish smile formed across his lips. "Nyot me."

"You're dead, nya." Merilo leapt down onto the grassy fields on all fours and charged, her hands were covered by oversized, plushy cat mittens.

And then wicked steel claws came out of them.

Alphonse sighed and he placed a hand on the crown on his head, the magic gem upon it shimmering as he focused on its new form.

"Hearken, oh rapt audience…"

The crown shimmered as the new shape of the Guardian manifested.

Johan stared across the grassy field at a shadowy figure, his grip on Azizos and Arsu, his paired sword and dagger Ärms firm but not tense. With each measured step he took, his pitch-dark moved in response, a blackened reflection whose sole purpose was to be the whetstone on which he sharpened himself.

The being was the product of an Ärm belonging to Alan called Shadowman, which the man had lent to him through Merilo. Shadowman allowed the user to create a shadowy copy of themselves or of another person, making it an Ärm with a considerable amount of combat utility. Now, however, it was being used as a training aid, as it would grow in strength as Johan did.

Gold, silver, and onyx steel clashed with blades darker than the blackest night again and again, flurries of slashes, stabs, and cuts filling the space between the two combatants as Johan met the absolute limit of his own strength made manifest with everything he had and then some. Simply meeting his limits wasn’t enough, not when there were monsters like Halloween out there—when there were monsters worse than him, even.

So Johan forced more of his magic into Shadowman, leaving less for his own use; an even fight had been a good warm-up, but he’d need to get used to punching above his weight class and being effective at it if he was going to win against the Chess’s strongest.

In the next moment, he was being forced back by Shadow Johan. Even the slight advantage he’d given the construct had been enough to break the stalemate, and now he was forced on the defensive.

Johan gritted his teeth, and changed tactics. He stopped meeting the shadow’s strikes with his own and focused everything on dodging and waiting. As his motions sped up and slowly became smoother, so too did those of the Shadowman, following his tempo and overtaking him bit by bit. 

Frustration sparked behind clenched teeth like dragonfire, and good sense was overtaken by the desire to overcome . His arm snapped out, flinging the dagger Arsu at his shadow, who deflected it to one side. 

Even as it did, the Demon King of Wind’s name escaped his lips in a growled rasp, and his now free left arm buckled and writhed beneath his robe, withered growths being denied freedom from their cloth prison. With a swipe of his now-clawed hand, a downburst slammed Shadow Johan flat, literally. The Shadowman was compressed into a two-dimensional outline of Johan, and moments later, popped out of existence.

Johan let out a heaving breath, then two, and released Pazuzu’s hold on his left arm. A hand fell on his right shoulder, pulling him around.

Dorothy loomed behind him, a very unsettling smile on her face. “Now, isn’t that a curious Ärm you have there.”

Johan’s stomach promptly vacated his body through the soles of his feet, his heart attempting to follow suit in the opposite direction but getting lodged in his oesophagus.

The cat was well and truly out of the bag, and he wasn’t talking about Merilo.

Chapter Text

Alphonse sat across from Trent, munching on an apple and sighing.

"So how're you holding up, my guy?" The Mexican asked. "Not going stir crazy or getting that cabin fever?"

“Not really,” Trent grunted, his eyes narrowing as he watched Babbo devour a bushel of fruit. “Just living, trying to figure out all this magic shit. You?”

"Getting into catfights with a catgirl for being catty." Alphonse shrugged and after a moment's pause he added. "Nya."

The blond hummed, “Even right meow?”

Alphonse giggled, then shook his head. "Not right meow, but a while back. I'm satisfied with how things are turning out training-wise, but we're still a long ways off. It's annoying to have to spend as much time as we are here and know that we still need to spend more."

“Awful,” Trent grunted, shaking his head. “Abysmal news. Take it back and redo it.”

"Too bad, it's just the facts, Trent-me-boy." Alphonse drawled as he fell on his back. "We're advancing at an explosive pace, but the Chess Pieces have been around for longer. We have a lot of work ahead of us, as much as that sucks."

“I’m more annoyed that apparently, even with six months of uninterrupted training, we still won’t be near our goals,” Trent snarled, his brow furrowed as his fist came down on the ground.

"I had a headstart on you and Johan and I'm still pretty far. Trust me, I know ." Alphonse said and gave a deep sigh. "Still, best not to drag the fact all over ourselves. It'll just make things more of a pain if we think about it. At least we won't be alone."

“Then why the fuck did you bring it up?” Trent asked.

"Cuz in hindsight, I've gotten more bitchy and grown a bit too used to openly complaining about things since I got to MÄR-Heaven, I suppose." Alphonse remarked offhandedly. "So sorry about that, though I guess there's not much point now that I said it."

“Christ alive,” Trent grunted, rolling on his back and shaking his head.

After several seconds where Alphonse kept his lips pursed, he let out a sigh more tired than the previous ones.

"No, there is a point." He shook his head. "Sorry about that, Trent. I've just not been having a good time. I shouldn't have gone off like that."

“Is there even anything I can say to help? Because I’ll be real, I dunno if I can based on how you’re talking,” Trent said, staring into the roiling skies.

"Just being a friend as usual and being a bit patient." Alphonse said with a shake of his head. "I'm minding my words more, I think that helps. I'm not a fan of magical thinking, but I think it's true that how you speak can have an effect on you."

“I see,” Trent muttered tiredly, still contemplating the roil. “Glad I can at least help somehow.”

It was at that moment that Johan was thrown into the area, Dorothy strutting in imperiously as she remarked, “We have a rat .”

“I resent that!” Johan protested, letting out a pained grunt as he impacted the ground. “You’ve got me all wrong!”

“I’d love it if someone could explain what the hell is happening,” Trent rumbled, rolling onto his side to watch the byplay. “Especially with my friend’s sudden accusation of rat-dom.”

"It's a pretty damning accusation, and while Johan's chunni, I don't know him to be an insane dipshit who'd burn towns for kicks." Alphonse glanced at Dorothy, raising a brow and keeping himself propped up with a hand.

If the three worked together, maybe they could pull off a win against her, but he wasn't about to bet on it.

Dorothy smiled wickedly as she stepped forward and grabbed Johan’s arm. Pulling it into the air, she showcased a silver bracelet hanging from his wrist. “This is Pazuzu. A Ghost Ärm. All of which are supposed to be in the possession of the Chess. ”

It was a rather chilling fact, what Dorothy just dropped on them. It begged a single question.

"Johan, I'm not gonna accuse you of anything here, but where the fuck have you been mucking around when you got to MÄR-Heaven?" Alphonse looked at his friend in shock.

“I was summoned by a hermit near Eltengrave, a port town on the southern continent.” Johan’s reply was quick, an edge of panic in his voice. “He was the one who gave me my Ärms, who taught me a bit about magic, and to whom I made that promise: to protect the children of MÄR-Heaven.”

“You’re panicking,” Dorothy pointed out, her arms crossed as she eyed him. “So, what then… the hermit was a member of the Chess?”

Johan flinched and curled in on himself a bit. “...Unwillingly, but yes.” He finally admitted quietly. “They’ve got his kids hostage.”

Trent hummed, “How does he know the kids’re alive? Pumpkin Jack and his crew made it clear what sort of people are in the Chess.”

“Ash is a Knight, like that pumpkin fucker,” the brunet elaborated with a grimace, “which means it’s easier and safer for them to just keep his children alive than to risk him finding out they aren’t and going ballistic because he doesn’t have anything left to lose.” Johan scratched his cheek. “At least, that’s what he suspects is the reason.”

“If he’s that good, how’d they get him on board in the first place?” Dorothy asked, tapping her foot. “That killer tomato was strong enough to give me pause. If it’s someone on that level, then getting them in would be the main issue.”

The answer Johan gave was but a single word, but that word spoke volumes.

“Phantom.”

Babbo jerked around, only now roused from his post-gorge dozing, his eyes wide. “Where? Where?”

Trent reached up to scratch his chin. “I really need to get some more details on this Phantom guy. I get that he’s big dick, but…”

“It doesn’t really paint a whole picture, no,” Dorothy finished, her brow furrowed in thought. “Still, why’d this hermit give you a Ghost Ärm?”

Johan scratched the back of his head. “I mean, I was the one he summoned, and I agreed to help fight against the Chess, so…” He spread his hands. “Plus, that’s two fewer Ghost Ärms in their hands and two more in ours, yeah?”

"Checks out, although…" Alphonse glanced over at Johan with a raised brow. "It still doesn't really check out for me. I'll believe your side of things, but I'm suspicious of this Ash guy. Phantom is in and of himself a pretty compelling argument to join the Chess Pieces, but as I understand it, you don't get to be a Knight if you don't have an in with Phantom and he really likes you. Getting gang pressed into joining wouldn't foster that kind of relationship."

Johan raised his hands, as if in surrender. “I totally get why you’d have your reservations; all I can do is relay what he told me and what my impressions of him were, and as far as I could tell he seemed genuine.”

"Maybe, but when it comes to the Chess, we need to be unfair with judgements," Alphonse shook his head and he looked at Dorothy. "You think there's any Darkness Ärms that could be used to spy on us using Johan or one of his Ärms as a medium?"

“They’d need a few different things, and more than anything, the cost of use is prohibitive. I doubt they’d be willing to have someone as powerful as Tomato Face rip out their eyes as sacrifice to pay for the Ärms’ abilities,” Dorothy replied, tapping her foot. And then her head tilted to the side, her gaze sharpening. “Hey, Ghost-boy… what did you mean ‘two’ Ghost Ärms? ”

“Ah, right.” Johan fiddled with his belt pouch before retrieving what looked to be a plague doctor mask made of silver metal and presenting it. “The other Ärm he gave me: Camazotz.”

Dorothy tapped her foot a few more times before sighing. “That’s an upside, even if I still need to track down the others. Honestly, I’m not surprised this Knight guy had them if he’s as strong as tomato boy, given how Ghost Ärms act. Did he mention the others?”

Johan frowned, looking down as he thought back. “He did mention someone who goes by ‘Chimera’ who almost exclusively uses them, yes. They’re apparently dangerously insane.”

“Given that using Ghost Ärms means you’re continuously contorting and altering your body, and that the human mind isn’t meant for stuff like that…” Dorothy trailed off. “I’m not really surprised if they’ve cracked from it.”

“Great, so more dangerous people with mental instability,” Trent grumbled, dropping his face into his hand. “We’re at, like, five or six now…”

Johan gave a bitter, mirthless chuckle. “Gotta catch ‘em all…”

Trent grabbed a clod of dirt off the ground and chucked it at Johan’s chest. “I’m really hoping that not every member of the Chess is dangerously unbalanced.”

"Right…" Alphonse shook his head. "The real question now is…where do we go from here? What happens now that we know about this Ash guy?"

“We make sure that Ghost-boy can use the Ärms properly, rather than sandbagging,” Dorothy declared. “As for this Ash guy… I don’t really care in the end. If he agrees to flip, good. If he doesn’t, well… let’s hope he’s strong enough to survive.”

"Fair enough on that end." Alphonse shrugged. "But what about Alan? I'm not sure how we should handle things on that end, especially if he's as strong as he's supposed to be. Wouldn't want to fight him just because of Johan having even tangential ties to the Chess Pieces."

“I figure we actually just be straight with him,” Trent replied, stretching back across the ground. “We shoot straight with him, let him know what we know. There’s no need for the cloak’n’dagger if we’re supposed to be allies.”

“Aye,” Johan agreed, “I didn’t like keeping this stuff secret in the first place, but…” He gestured vaguely with both hands. “Paranoia and overthinking.”

Alphonse looked between the two others and just let out a sigh. "Alright then. I think most of my reservations can be chalked up to me being a spiteful little shit at this point, so whatever you guys say goes."

“I don’t really care,” Dorothy grunted. “The old dog’ll probably be pissed if you cut him out of the loop, though.”

“Nyeah, you guys probably should tell meowster.” Merilo cut in as she popped up from behind a nearby rock, startling the group.

"Jesus, what the fuck!?" Alphonse leapt back. "Ah nuts, you would tell him anyways if we didn't, wouldn't you?"

"Nyot really, nya." Merilo said with a shrug. "Meowster always dismisses meow when he closes the Trainying Gate and became allergic to cats so he would nyever bring meow out in front of him, so I couldn't tell him even if I wnyanted to, nya."

"That sounds…really bad." Alphonse noted and scratched at the back of his head. "Do you…like, need help? That sounds like a serious issue. Kind of toxic, if you know what I mean."

"I see your point, nya." Merilo shrugged and sagged as she let herself flop on top of the rock. "But this is covered by worker's comp nyand it's pretty good."

At that declaration, all three spatially displaced lads looked at the catgirl and had only a single question they all uttered in unison.

"You get paid?! "

Chapter Text

The door opened with a crash and everyone leapt out of it with firm gazes and determination clear for the entire world to see.

"Suuuuuuup'" Alan slurred with massive bags under his eyes, a pile of cigarettes about knee high at his side and a rather concerned looking princess Snow at his side, serving him tea. "Yeeeeeeah, thas what I'm talkin' about. You're not getting gibbed without me anymore."

"Bitch, you haven't even fought to save us." Alphonse pointed out.

"Shit, really? Din't I beat that tomato fucker?" Alan asked.

"No, Alan, we ran away from that fight." Snow replied with a sigh.

"Oh. Riiiiight." Alan said. "Well, in that case, I think I'mma sleep. Kid can take it from here." 

As soon as Alan said that, he face planted onto the ground.

“Oh great,” Trent said. “The child is here.”

Alan exploded into smoke and after a moment Edward appeared from where he was, looking pretty well considering he was foaming at the mouth last time.

"'sup dog." Alphonse asked.

The BDSM pooch gave him a nod, before wincing and saying, “If you three would be so kind as to watch over her highness for a moment, I have a date with a tree that I mustn’t put off any longer.”

Without waiting for a reply, Edward all but sprinted into the forest, quickly disappearing from view. After a long few moments of awkward silence, the distant sound of animalistic wailing echoed from the direction the dog had taken.

“Alan wasn’t lying,” Johan mused, “sounds like he’s pissing straight lava out there.”

“This is awful,” Trent declared, his face bland as he tried to stay calm. “I hate this. I’m fine with Ed having his kinks, but I don’t like being forced to be party to it like this.”

As the wailing turned into screams like the dog was getting violently murdered behind a bush, Snow pointedly ignored the sounds and asked. "So how did it go?"

“Eh, we’re stronger, I know how to use magic,” Trent said, and then held up Babbo’s hammer to show the three gems set into it. “Put these in Babbo.”

“I still must protest that third form!” Babbo declared, his moustache twitching. “No matter how powerful it is, it’s so… uncouth!”

“Coward,” Trent said.

"There's nothing more gentlemanly than power, my guy." Alphonse remarked with a grin. "And form three is very powerful. Ergo, it is the most gentlemanly form at the moment."

“It’s… it’s…” the orb tried to argue.

Trent cut in. “It’ll probably be the most powerful unless we get outerversal.”

“Perish.” Johan immediately replied, without elaborating.

“No,” Trent retorted. “So, what’d you get up to, Princess?”

"I've been taking care of Alan while he was keeping the Gate of Training active, at least until Alviss arrived." The princess said with a nod. "He's actually out getting some food, he should be arriving in a minute or so."

Johan scratched the back of his head. “Okay, so…who’s this kid again? If it’s already been explained, forgive me; my memory is dogshit and it’s been six months on our end.”

"Right, didn't actually talk much about him since…yeeeeeeeah." Alphonse scratched at the back of his head. "He's a kid affiliated with the Cross-Guard. A disciple of Gaira and the one that summoned Trent. He's a moody little shit, but…yeah, he's got plenty of reason for it. Zombie Tattoo and all that..."

The brunet frowned. “Right, that did come up…what is it? From the way it sounded and, well, the name, it’s easy to guess that it’s nothing good, but…” He trailed off, glancing at Dorothy with a questioning gaze.

“A curse,” the witch answered, crossing her arms. “You wanna live forever as a hollow corpse?”

Johan grimaced strongly, letting out a hiss from between his teeth. “Fuckin’ hell. I’d be moody too with some shit like that hanging over my head.”

Dorothy shrugged. “It can be removed. He just needs to destroy the source.”

"And judging from what's been said, I think I can hazard a guess as to the source." Alphonse sighed and crossed his arms. "Probably Phantom himself."

"Yes, actually." The princess said. "I think Alviss is pretty admirable, fighting the curse for that long. I hope Phantom is taken down before the tattoo finishes its work on him."

“That’d be nice,” Trent declared. “Maybe it’d help with the stick up his ass.”

Trent ducked on instinct as a stick went sailing over his head from behind him. The group turned as they saw Alviss with an outstretched arm, along with Edward, who was a couple paces ahead, and Belle, who floated next to Alviss's head.

"You actually saw it coming." The boy remarked coolly. "Good, that means we'll be able to begin fighting the Chess pieces when the time comes."

“You weren’t too fast for eyes,” Trent said. “But you’ll be done in by this last surprise: I can smell Ed’s piss on your boots.”

Edward turned bright red at this assertion. Meanwhile, Belle cringed and flitted away from the stench of piss.

With a blank stare, Alviss looked down at his fake-ass Jordans, taking a single whiff from where he stood and his features instantly contorted into a rictus of pure rage.

"FUUUUUUU-"

Alviss, now wearing a completely different set of shoes and clothes for good measure, stood in front of the group, arms crossed in front of his chest. Now wearing a more reasonable looking coat (which was still a Nomura-looking ass coat because it had zip-on long sleeves), he began.

"Currently, we're fairly sure that Phantom is beginning to rouse, if he hasn't already." Alviss explained, "We have been shoring up defences across MÄR-Heaven in preparation. If everything goes as it did last time, we can expect things to go to hell immediately even with all that."

“That’s the nature of war, especially given that the Chess seem to be more akin to an underground guerilla force than an army,” Trent remarked, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

"Hardly. More like a gathering of loosely organised psychopaths." Alviss remarked bitterly. "They made a game out of the struggle against them. They call the entire thing 'the War Games'. The reason why we expect things to go wrong is because of how they'll start their assault; using Dimension Ärms to warp straight into major population centres and start destroying everything in sight."

Johan blinked rapidly then frowned. “How the hell are we supposed to counter that? Does the Cross-Guard have teleportation Ärms of their own? And if so, how will we know where to go and when?”
"We don't have too many, but we have people stationed across the entirety of MÄR-Heaven, volunteers and most importantly…" Alviss dug into his ear with a finger, pulling out a small silver bead. "Ärms that allow for long range communication. No matter where we might be, we will be able to hear distress calls and respond accordingly, as long as we get a Dimension Ärm to travel there."

"You didn't bring one?" Alphonse asked with a raised brow.

"Gaira takes precedence over us currently." Alviss said with a shake of the head, before placing the bead back into his ear. "That said, he's sent a letter to the local Ärms Deäler in Pelika. We'll be requisitioning one of their Ärms and filing that under Cross-Guard expenses." 

“That’ll be a pretty penny,” Dorothy opined, an eyebrow raised. “Dimensional Ärms are pricey, even if they only work between two locations. Something like Andarta would probably bankrupt a nation.”

"Between slashing the price and possibly dying because of greed, money stops being an issue." Alviss said with a shake of the head. "Regardless it-"

The boy flinched, and then everyone saw as his face began losing colour.

"They've begun!" He yelled out. "They're already attacking! They're at Ragenrave- no, Ragenrave and Henrihu…and Yuudaril! Shit, I thought we'd have at least one more day!"

“So did Peter Parker,” Trent muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Focus, Alviss. What can we do?”

"I don't know!" Alviss said. "We don't have time! We need to get to Pelika and take the Dimension Ärm. I don't know if it's an Andarta or just a high-speed transport but we need to get to one of those places fast."

"Wait." Alphonse raised a hand. "Hold up. I think I have an idea."

"The magic carpet won't work, it's too slow and even Yuudaril would take us days to get to!" Alviss snapped at Alphonse. "Or what, do you have anything actually useful to say for a change?"

"Yes, so shut the fuck up, child!" Alphonse jabbed a finger at Alviss's chest. "Do you have a Magic Stone?"

Dorothy started to reach into a pocket on her dress.

Alviss stopped and then looked at Trent. More importantly, at Babbo. Immediately he dug into his pocket and pushed a small gemstone into his palm. "Make it count, now!"

Dorothy stopped, and attempted to look casual.

"Trent, sorry but I need Babbo for a moment." Alphonse said as he looked at his friend. "And Babbo, sorry to you as well, but at least it's going to be a cool form, nothing like form three, I promise."

Slowly, Trent held the Ärm’s hammer out to the Mexican, and assured Babbo, “Don’t worry, Babbo, we’ll hit’em with form three soon.”

“Please no,” the Ärm grumbled wearily.

Alphonse took the hammer and slotted the gem into one of the slots, finally completing one of the faces of the Gränd Ärm's notches. The Mexican took a deep breath holding the hammer in his hand and putting it across his hip on the opposite side, and holding the chain at his side. Babbo's eyes went white, but he didn't speak in a robotic tone.

Alphonse bent his knees slightly and the two other outworlders recognized the stance for what it was. An iai stance.

The man's head bobbed up and down.

"I am the storm that is approaching, provoking black clouds in isolation." Alphonse sang quietly. "I am reclaimer of my na-"

"Just do whatever you're planning already, you asshole!" Alviss interrupted

"God, fine, you bastard! Ruin the moment, why don't you!" 

“As much as I sympathise, Al, childboy does have a point.” Johan admitted. “Lives are at stake.”

"I was trying to focus!"

“What a powerless nature,” Trent said, shaking his head. “Not a drop of motivation.”

"Alright already, we're leaving already!"

With a flash of light, Babbo disappeared, and in Alphonse's hands stood a completely different weapon, a katana with a white cord wrapped around its handle, a black sheath and a golden sageo.

"Babbo Version Four: Lynchpin of the Demon World's Seal - Yamato." Alphonse pronounced then unsheathed the blade, slashing at the air sideways and moving into a downwards slash. 

The air before him rippled before a dark rift opened, only darkness and stars visible to everyone who could see the tear Alphonse had just cut in space.

"Come on, then. We're going to Yuudaril." Alphonse said as he stared at everyone. "You wanted to rush me, then hurry up, be in that rush and stop gawking!"

“You do realize I’m going to have to go like, second last, right?” Trent replied. “I have no Babbo anymore. No Ärms either.”

"Well I'm not seeing everyone else going before you!" Alphonse stared at the other two who’d heckled him, only to see Johan’s back disappearing through the portal, then he focused solely on Alviss and added, "Chop chop, childboy!"

Alviss growled angrily before charging into the portal, followed by princess Snow and then immediately by a screaming Edward, Dorothy went next with Belle close by. Trent strolled slowly after them, shrugging as he put his fists up.

Finally, Alphonse walked into the portal, spinning the katana in his hand before sheathing it, and with the metallic click of the tsuba hitting the sheath, the tear in space closed up, as though it had never been there in the first place.

In the air just at the outskirts of the city of Yudaril, the air itself was rent open and a dark portal opened up, letting out the group just at the edge of it. It was a beautiful place, but any thoughts or features were hard to distinguish as the group saw smoke rising at the center. 

"Right, let's-" Alphonse spoke up as he approached Trent but was cut off by a spear slamming itself between the two of them. 

The entire group began to dodge in a frenzy as spears began to reach them, everyone began to do what they could do to avoid getting hit, Alphonse pulled back and tried to perform a familiar move…only for it to fail to go off and force him to dodge. 

"For fucks sake, of course I can't Judgment Cut after you fuckers interrupted the visualization, fuck you guys-!" Alphonse went on a tirade as he was forced to basically dance around speartips falling onto him.

Even as Johan’s sabre and dagger blurred before him, sending his portion of the polearm downpour spinning ineffectually away from him, he shot back, “Blaming your performance issues on us, huh? Real classy.”

“It happens to a lot of men,” Trent said, rolling away as he threw his hands up. “You can get pills for it though.”

“There are also Nature Ärms,” Dorothy suggested dryly, twirling her broom in hand as she looked around.

"Eat shit and die assholes!" Alphonse called out as he threw the sheathed katana back at Trent before kicking away a spear which got too close for comfort.

Catching the katana, Trent cracked his neck as he held the katana by his side. “Let’s lock’n’load! Babbo Version Two! Telos Kosmou - Pnoi tou Kosmou!” The sheathed weapon disappeared in a blast of light, replaced by a large blocky cannon that resembled a cross. Across the cannon’s frame cylinders spun and gauges whirred. “Alright, put’em up, you Chess bastards, or you’re gonna be dining in Hell!”

"Fuck you, Chess bastards, you put them up!" one of their assailants called out, out of sight past a rocky outcropping. 

In spite of that, though, most of the assault let up, until it was just a one spear launching itself in an almost piddly fashion every other second.

"Wait, what're y'all standing around for?" The voice from earlier called out. "That's the Chess, the bad guys? I mean, not like we're not pieces of shit either, but we're like the good ones, right?"

“If you’re not the Chess, then who are you?” Trent called back. “If you aren’t Chess, then I have to put my cannon away. I swore to my dear pop-pop not to kill anyone with a gun unless they deserve it.”

There was silence from the other end.

"I meaaaaaaaan-"

"BOSS SHUT THE FUCK UP!" A chorus of voices called out.

"Wait, but hold up," The person said. "If we're not the Chess, and you're not the Chess, then who-"

"Oh for fuck's sake we're with the Cross-Guard, you absolute goddamn morons!" Aliviss barked, a vein throbbing on his temple. Belle patted his shoulder consolingly.

After a moment of silence, someone popped out of their cover with a sound somewhat like a 'nyooom.' It was a young man about the same age as the isekai'd trio, a blond with long hair and a red bandana, a red shirt with white stripes crossing across it, white pants, and a long, blue scarf.

He looked over at the group with a finger on his chin and after a moment he said the only thing he could.

"Hm. Maybe I did a booboo?"

Chapter Text

Trent took a deep breath as he looked around, before spinning his grip on the Telos Kosmou. It spun and shrank into a large revolver, which the blond continued to spin in his palm. “Right, well, if we’re all on the Chess stomping side, let’s all team up and fucking get them. Send their asses to Brazil!”

Looking around, he was asked, “So who all is with me?!”

The gang that had been assaulting them only a few seconds ago let out a war cry of 'to Brazil!' A couple people said it more hesitantly and not really getting it. Only one of them actually asked 'what the fuck is a Brazil?', but the group was fairly energised.

"Well slap my ass and call me Sally. You got the boys pumped up!" The apparent leader said with a grin before his mouth pulled into a pouty face. "I mean, I could've done that myself but whatever. So you all are here to fight the Chess, then?"

The man lifted his arms in the air and shook them, making a rattling sound. "LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Y'know what? Awful first impressions aside, I think the enthusiasm is good." Alphonse shrugged. "We splitting up and blowing up this popsicle stand?"

“I’d say so,” Trent grunted, rolling his shoulders and continuing to spin the pistol in his palm.

"Wait, you mean hitting up the other towns?" Alviss asked as he looked at Alphonse in confusion and then looked over at the gun in Trent's hands. "How do you suggest getting all the way to the other sites? Just piggybacking off of-"

"Wait, there's other places under attack?" The leader said as he looked over at Alviss. "Oh shit. Well, that's technically none of our business, but, like…that's bad for business 'n all, plus the Chess are, like, really, really bad and they can get bent, so like…where is this? Like?"

Alviss pinched the bridge of his nose and listed off the locations that he knew were under attack.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh! I know a few of those places." The man said as he reached inside one of his pockets and dug it in way deeper than it should have been physically possible. "Here, use these!"

"What the fuck, why do you have so many Andata!?" Alviss called out as he looked at what the man brought out, a number of rings with plates arranged somewhat like a lens shutter.

“I-” Dorothy put a hand on her forehead as she sighed. “You could buy a country with that many Andata. I- I think that’s most of the Andata in existence right there. I- I might need to sit down.”

"Oh, please m'lady. Let me fetch you a chair, if it please you." The man said as he bowed in front of Dorothy. Then he got on his knees and presented her with one of the rings. "Or perhaps I ought to bring a ring? I swear, I can be better and change! I'll stop my life of theft and turn over a new leaf! Promise, pinky promise even! No promises on not cheating, though."

“Awful. Die,” Dorothy retorted immediately, her expression bland. “I expect a number of things from my romantic partners, first and foremost being commitment.”

"Damn," The man shrugged his shoulders and held his hands in front of him in an eerily familiar pose. "Guess I'll die."

Johan rubbed his forehead, feeling a migraine coming on. “Can we save the Princess Bride suicide antics for after we’ve dealt with the Chess, please?”

"Fine, fine." The man said as he slumped over forward and then immediately transitioned into a baseball pitcher's pose before chucking the rings in quick succession at people, hitting them over the head with them. 

"Gah, fucker." Alphonse groaned as he rubbed his head and grabbed the ring. "Right, no time to waste, Alviss, just hand out transmitter ÄRMs, I got my own and you got my number, I'm going to Ragenrave."

The boy nodded, deciding against making any snide comments and instead held a hand up to his ear. "Damn it. They're also striking Elttown, we need someone there too. "

Johan raised a hand. “I can go; I visited there a couple times before, so I know the place.”

“I will accompany you,” Princess Snow added. “I can guard your back with Iced Earth’s wide area of effect.” Johan gave a nod of agreement.

“In that case, I suppose I shall accompany you as well, for moral support if nothing else.” Said Edward the Pisshound with a sigh.

Trent looked around at Yudaril, and nodded. “I’m going to sweep up here. We don’t know the exact measure of who all’s here, but I want to handle them. Worst comes to worst, I can break out Form Three.”

"What's Form Three?" Nanashi asked with a tilt of his head.

“A nightmare,” Dorothy said, shaking her head. “It breaks the rules that ÄRMs follow, and it’s psychotic too.” Taking a deep breath, she looked around. “I’ll be mobile support, wherever I’m really needed. If that makes sense.”

"That works. Trent, catch." Alviss said before he tossed Trent a small rock the size of an earpiece. "You go on ahead, we're leaving in a moment. We'll see you here when we're all done."

“Roger roger,” Trent replied, looking at the stone. “Should I just shove this in my ear?”

"Yes. It works with intent, but don't worry about learning the ins and outs, we'll call and you can respond." Alviss said. "Now get going!"

“I got you, I got you,” the blond replied, shoving the stone in his ear as he headed into Yudaril, still spinning the Telos Kosmou in his hand. As he went, he started to whistle with a western twang, bringing to mind a cowboy, heading off to a duel.

The group that attacked him followed him but went off to other places, while he kept moving forward.

The whistling soon fell dead at the sounds of screams of agony reaching his ears.

Trent didn’t need to try hard when locating the Chess in Yudaril, he only needed to follow the trail of blood, broken bodies, and ransacked homes. Each step took the blond farther into the town, and each step made his blood boil higher and higher. He continued to spin the Telos Kosmou in his palm, having long since abandoned his whistling.

Instead, he chanted.

“I do not aim with my hand, he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I aim with my eye.”

Trent’s stomach churned and roiled as he was forced to step past the gored corpse of a grandmother, bent over in an attempt to unsuccessfully protect her grandchild. He felt his stomach rising in his throat as his offhand balled into a fist, his fingernails tearing into his palm.

“I do not shoot with my hand, he who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I shoot with my mind.”

He grit his teeth as he had to step past the mangled flesh that had once been a man with a hoe, having stood up to fight the invader. He had no doubt the man fought with all that he was, and then some, given the crimson painting the scene around his limbless form.

It felt like he had been walking for hours, stepping past scenes of valour and horror, each one driving the blond to a darker and darker place. His teeth were grit, his shoulders shaking, and blood was dripping from his wrapped fist.

“I do not kill with my gun, he who kills with his gun has forgotten the faces of his parents. I kill with my heart.”

Trent understood why the Cross Guard had been so keen to call on people to help them fight the Chess. The castle where they had picked up Snow had been bad… but it had nothing on the scene of Hell that Yudaril had been warped into. Trent knew he was a lot of things, but after all he’d seen on this day… he probably was going to end up adding killer to that list.

A hissing breath left his mouth as he cleared a collapsed house, taking in a figure standing over a collapsed corpse. The standing person was shaking, and clearly young, probably not even out of their teens.

Trent was about to call out to them, to tell them to run when they turned to face him.

The first thing Trent noticed wasn’t a single thing about the youth, but instead that they had the disembodied head in their hands, clearly torn from the corpse on the ground. It was that of a girl, barely even a teen, if that, her eyes wide with terror and her mouth hanging open.

The youth holding her was positively pasty, his skin an unhealthy white that Trent thought was only possible through heavy makeup. His hair was a dark purple that matched his dark tunic and pants, a single spike of black jutting from the centre. His face was painted with electric blue stripes that ran over his eyes, with a third eye in the centre of his forehead. The eye in the centre of his forehead was a baleful red, while the sclera of his normally positioned eyes were pitch black. But the worst, most damning part, was the wide manic grin on his face, looking positively gleeful despite the blood on his hands.

He let out a cackle, and asked, “Yo! You just gonna stand there shell shocked? Because if you want a show… well, this little bitch’s death’s gotten me hard enough to take her throat for a go!”

The grip of Telos Kosmou slammed into Trent’s palm as he brought it to bear, his finger already pulling the trigger as he took aim at the beast in front of him.

Trent didn’t care how young the monster in front of him looked, this thing was without morals and standards, he was going to see it annihilated.

He followed the creature with his weapon as he held down the trigger, an impossible number of bullets, launching from the barrel. He hated the hyenalike sound that the creature made, and wanted to silence it.

Trent grimaced as a wave of ice crashed up towards him, and spun the Telos Kosmou in his hand, the revolver unfolding back into its artillery form. Burning bullets roared from the spinning barrel, carving through the iceberg as it surged past and around Trent.

The blond’s chest was heaving as the creature came back into focus, the head it had been holding dropped as it darted to and fro, throwing masses of ice at him. Trent took a deep breath as he reached down and hit a switch on his cannon’s side.

“Switching from Full Auto to Fuller Auto.”

Bullets cascaded from the barrel, each wrapped in a shroud of elemental fury. Lightning, fire, darkness, light, all of them and everything in between chewed the landscape as the creature continued to zip around and away from the attack.

The creature cackled, “C’mon man! Gimme something to work with here! I was hoping for someone to bounce off of!”

Trent stopped, releasing the trigger and letting the barrel spin down. He took a deep breath, focusing his magic, lining it with his will as he stared down the vile thing before him. After a moment, he asked, “Do you have any family?”

“What?” the creature blinked, and then burst out laughing. “Oh man, are you gonna try the whole ‘oh, what would you do if it was your family being slaughtered here’? That’s hilarious! I’ll be sure to laugh about it with the other Bishops!”

“No,” Trent replied, shaking his head as he let the Telos Kosmou transform back into Babbo. “I was asking so I could give them my condolences after I kill you .”

Babbo hesitated next to Trent, and then looked around. He grit his teeth and the ÄRM grumbled, “I might hate this form, but I understand your reasoning, Trent…”

“Wha- kill me?!” the vile thing chattered, its head rocking back in sheer mirth as it crowed at the heavens. “You’ll never kill me, and even if you somehow manage a miracle, my beautiful big sister is a Knight , one of Phantom’s most trusted lieutenants!”

“I don’t care. And while it might be bad manners for a killer to visit the family of a victim… I’ll make an exception for you,” Trent replied, his magic focusing to a laserpoint as he and Babbo closed their eyes in unison.

“Babbo, version three-”

The castle-town of the capital of Ragenrave was devastated. Entire homes laid to ruin, corpses littering the streets, helpless cries as more and more people died. Alphonse had been followed by Alviss and Belle, and the three had quickly encountered the men stationed there, in as terrible shape as could be, a force a hundred strong decimated to a crew of twenty five. 

Alphonse was blunt. They would have to stop fighting to repel and instead focus on  evacuating survivors. Alviss agreed, though he wasn't pleased, but he didn't complain either.

Not with the stormy look on Alphonse's face, with the rage and disgust contorting it.

The boy was left to handle the chaff, he charged straight for the commanders, who reportedly were already advancing towards the castle proper.

A number of Pawns of the Chess stood in his path, glaring when they noticed him. A second later, their heads fell from their shoulders as Alphonse kept charging forward, his shirt now covered in blood.

More unique faces propped up. Possibly Rooks, but Alphonse paid them no heed as he slit the throats of a couple as he passed by them, and ignored the rest. He was very quickly upon the one leading the attack.

There was no way to sugarcoat it. It was a fat girl. Or maybe a fat short woman, he didn't know and didn't care for the difference. 

"You…" She said while looking over at him covered in blood and viscera as he glared at her. "Gross. But I guess this is what I get for being the fairest woman in the world. Of course a bunch of ugly people would chase after my skirt."

"Pot, meet kettle." Alphonse remarked dryly as he slicked back his hair with a blood-soaked hand and pointed his sword at the fat woman. "I'll be ripping out your spleen now, you psychopath."

"Pot, meet kettle." The woman threw back at his face with a huff that was probably meant to sound dignified but sounded more like the death wail of a seal. "Dandarshi."

Dust kicked up from beside her as an enormous sword easily Alphonse's own size slammed down on the paved ground. It was best described as a Dragonslayer with runic inscriptions and a decorated guard with two horns coming up towards the blade and a face detached in the middle, disconnected from the horns.

"Dandarshi, who is the fa-"

The fat woman didn't get to finish her sentence as Alphonse immediately charged her. She barely managed to react in time to bring her sword down as a shield.

"Haven't you got any manners, you hideous ponce!?" She called out as she swung around the blade with natural ease. It clashed against his own sword and Alphonse easily felt its heft was about as heavy as it looked. 

But he pushed forward and set the woman off balance as she struggled to push him off.

"Oh, beha-" She got cut off by Alphonse keeping up the assault. "Sto-" He kept hammering on the blade with everything he had. "Don't-" The woman let out an animalistic growl and pushed him off, throwing a hand to her where a huge dandelion appeared and Alphonse felt his body lock up. "Fortune Pluck". 

The woman plucked a petal and said "Ugly." Alphonse felt as though his scalp was getting cut off and growled. Another petal and she said "Pretty." The pain persisted as she began making distance, seeing that Alphonse was not a total pushover, she kept plucking petals and moving away.

"Oh come on!" She said as she plucked out the last petal and Alphonse felt the pain subside. "Pretty! Dandarshi, stall for time."

There was something of a grunt from the blade before it moved on its own and shot straight for Alphonse. The man started to fight against the magical blade, losing ground as the woman called out something and a house of candy fell from the sky. She immediately began gorging herself on the building.

"Oh fuck this." Alphonse made distance between the two of them and brought a hand to the crown on his head. "Hearken, oh rapt audience…"

A dark aura overtook the crown as a sound of interest seemed to reach his eyes, and darkness began to fall upon him from the crown. 

"The actors are all puppets of the script!" He all but screamed as he punched the sword away. "Lift your voices and sink into the night! Crown of Tragodia!"

A pulse of darkness washed over his opponents before they were left to witness him in, clad in an elegant black paludroncoat, decorated with gold pieces and buttons. On his head was a mask akin to a templar's helmet, with his head decorated by the crown and the rest of his head covered up by a coif flowing down to his neck. Smoky black wisps seemed to flow out of him as he raised his rapier once more and a fell purple light seemed to engulf it.

"This is…interesting". The head on the enormous blade spoke up but didn't say anything further, its master simply began eating faster as her body began bulking up.

When it swung again, Alphonse blocked it with one hand while he slammed the blade in the direction the fat woman was. A wave of darkness trailed from it and shot towards her. She only barely dodged, and saw as the house went up in purple and black flames. 

Then he started beating the enormous blade with his rapier. Holding it in place as it struggled to move again, Alphonse saw as the letters on his weapon began vanishing.

"What are you doing with my ÄRM!?" The woman said as she began charging him. He just made more distance.

"I advise you to comply,

my instructions should be clear."

Alphonse sang as the woman grabbed the blade in the air and couldn't make it budge an inch.

" Your fair lady must lose some weight, 

Some fat you ought to help her trim. "

The blade immediately turned around and slammed right into her gut sideways. Regardless of how large the woman was, the blade was larger than she could possibly be.

She screamed in agony as she tried to reach out to Alphonse. "N-no! You can't do this to me, I'm the fairest of them all!"

"Surprised you haven't died of shock from that."  The man slowly approached as the gloom around him seemed to grow even stronger. "I ought to fix that."

"No! You can't, you can't, you can't! I'm the prettiest, the cutest!"

"That so?" Alphonse knelt down right in front of her. His expression unreadable through his mask. "You must have done so much work trying to keep yourself looking at your best every day."

He raised his head in disdain. "So much that you found time to wash your hands after you ripped off the faces of those women further back? And still so little that you didn't care to remove the gore from under your nails."

She seemed to stiffen and spat at him, but the spittle sizzled and evaporated before reaching him. 

"They deserved it, they were so ugly! So ugly that they all deserved to die!" She countered. "Isn't that right Dandarshi!?"

The blade that made her half the woman she used to be remained silent for a moment before scoffing. 

"You know what? You know what 'lady' Emokis?" Dandarashi spat out the title venomously. "No, fuck you, you vain, disgusting monster. I just went along because you would have broken me otherwise. You're just insane, I want nothing to do with you."

Alphonse laughed darkly. 

"Would you look at that? Even your own Ärm agrees with me." He said as he looked over at her again, his eyes narrowing. "Ugly on the inside, ugly on the outside. I wonder…what are we to do with you?"

Emokis shivered in terror as Alphonse began reaching for her face.

Johan, Snow, and Ed’s appearances in Elttown was met with the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood. As Azizos and Arusu flashed into being in Johan’s hands and frigid air swirled around the Princess’s form, they each laid eyes on a different foe. 

Johan locked gazes with a violet-haired man wearing a crimson full-face mask that had only a single eyehole. The man’s hands were clad in a pair of massive, talon-like blades—an Ärm that he was even then pulling free from rubble that looked to have once been a bakery. Even as the Chess member turned towards Johan, a ball of flame materialised above the ruins and exploded behind him, setting the remnants of the shop thoroughly ablaze.

Princess Snow’s target, on the other hand, was a teal-haired girl wearing little more than a tube top and a pair of shorts. Beneath her eyes were a mirrored pair of crimson fang-like tattoos, and over one shoulder was slung a large, ball-headed hammer Ärm whose sheer size put paid any idea that her slight build indicated any manner of physical weakness.

Scattered around each of them were a handful of bodies, all of them nominally armed with farm implements or rudimentary weaponry, but that was hardly the noteworthy part. No, what was surprising is that despite all the destruction that the duo had wreaked upon Elttown’s buildings and infrastructure, none of the town residents that they’d apparently fought were dead or maimed. Bruised, battered, and barely conscious at best, certainly, but all of them were breathing and in possession of all of their limbs.

Princess Snow and her doggy escort didn’t know what to make of this fact, but to Johan it was another notch in the ledger that Ash had started in his mind. Of course, he had no way to know for sure yet, but…

He shook his head as he walked towards the masked Chess warrior. Such considerations could wait until after he’d rendered his opponent unable to fight. His stance shifted, drawing his sabre back as he leaned forward. In the next instant, his feet pushed off, the ground where he’d been standing cracking under the pressure he’d exerted.

The Chess member’s single visible eye widened even as he braced both of his massive claw-blades in an overhead cross-block—and not a moment too soon, as Azizos’ black and gold blade slammed into his block with a force that bent his knees beneath him, eliciting a roar of defiance from the masked man.

Flames blossomed into being along the edges of the blades before culminating at the backs of each claw. Like rocket boosters did the flames roar, forcing the Chess warrior’s blades upwards against Johan’s cut and pushing him back. 

Undeterred, Johan spun with the motion, whipping around and striking the man across his masked face with Arusu’s handguard, cracking the mask and sending his foe stumbling back.

“Leno!” came a cry from the girl who Snow had engaged, clearly calling out for the masked man.

“I’m fine , Pano!” growled the now-named Leno, “Focus on your own fi—”

There was a sound like a great chime being struck, and a small spire of ice flashed into being around the girl named Pano, almost fully encasing her in a prison of frost. She let out a shriek of alarm, which elicited a loud swear from Leno before he spun back towards Johan—or rather, where Johan had been a scant few seconds ago.

Unfortunately for Leno, his opponent wasn’t nice enough to not capitalise on his distraction, which became painfully apparent in the form of a double-fisted bludgeoning to the back of the Chess warrior’s skull, dropping him to his hands and knees as his braincase experienced a localised earthquake. 

So rattled was Pano’s brain, in fact, his Ärm returned to its dormant, ring-shaped state. It wasn’t rattled enough to miss the sensation of a thin metal edge kiss the side of his neck, though.

“I don’t want to kill you if I don’t have to,” Johan admitted, “so if you could just make this easy—” the American’s words were cut off in a grunting wheeze as a large, muscular man covered in spiky tattoos erupted through the wall of a nearby intact building and drove his shoulder into Johan’s torso, sending him flying backwards.

“Don’t fuck with the Rodokin family!” roared the man, straightening and slamming both of his fists together in an intimidation display.

The first thing Johan noticed—after getting his breath back, anyway—was the man’s level of magical energy. It was more than either of the other two Chess members, by a considerable margin at that. If he had to guess, Rono and Pano were probably Rooks, which likely meant that this man was a Bishop.

Johan rolled his neck and observed the muscular probably-Bishop with a calculating gaze. That shoulder check had been much stronger than he’d expected it to be; strong enough that it felt like he wasn’t even superhuman for a moment. His eyes landed on the Chess member’s hands and fixed on the rings on his fingers—ten of them, five on each hand. Perhaps some kind of enhancing Ärm?

Before Johan could get too lost in speculation, though, the man charged him again, this time with both hands at his sides and curled into claws. His speed was nothing to scoff at, either, crossing the dozen or so yards Johan had been thrown in the span of a couple seconds.

As the Bishop’s hands came up to grasp at Johan’s shoulders, no doubt planning on grabbing him and powerbombing him into the ground, the robed brunet danced out of his grasp, tearing his left sleeve off to reveal a bandaged left arm. 

Pazuzu’s bracelet around his wrist shone bright, and then the bandages burst . Four tattered, warped, petrified wings sprouted along Johan’s left arm, each one roughly the length of his forearm. From his fingertips sprouted five hooked talons, and what little of his skin that was visible beneath the wrappings had turned an ugly greenish-grey.

Johan swiped Pazuzu’s knife-feathered wings at his foe, but to no avail—the obsidian-sharp pinions scraped across bare skin as though it were stone. In fact, stone would’ve been easier to score; clearly, this Bishop’s Ärms were quite versatile.

Quickly realising the futility of this avenue of attack, Johan blurred backwards, gusts of wind at his heels speeding him along even faster than his prior speed. With a gesture, he sent a handful of wind blades at the Bishop, but this offence was met with a similar lack of effect.

The man let out a bellowing laugh. “You can’t hurt me with weak shit like that, boy! Garon Rodokin’s made of sterner stuff!” The now-named Garon stood in place and honest-to-god flexed , his admittedly impressive tank-like physique on full display. “Familial love is my Ärmor, son! It hardens in response to me protecting my children!”

A wave of ice crashed into Garon from the side, but the Bishop barely paid it any mind, demolishing it with a single swing of his arm. Snow let out a litany of curses that Edward would’ve no doubt reprimanded her for were the circumstances less dire.

“Familial love, huh?” Johan said, lips turned downwards as his non-transformed hand dipped into his belt pouch. 

“As far as I can tell, none of you three killed anyone here, so I’ll let you off with this.” The hand emerged from the pouch, holding a silver plague doctor’s mask.

“Quit the Chess, and go into hiding until the war is over.” Johan raised the mask to his face.

“After, of course, I beat the shit out of you for destroying this town—these people’s livelihoods.” The mask began to glow brightly.

Garon let out a laugh that was one part bravado and one part nervousness. “Y-you can’t think that just adding one measly Ärm is gonna let you break through my invincible Ärmour—”

“Camazotz.” Johan pronounced, and a blood moon rose over Elttown.

Nanashi let out a hum as he felt someone’s magic spike, having decided to help his goons in cleaning up the various mooks around Yudaril. Turning towards it, his eyes narrowed behind his bandana as he looked to the source, only to stop as it crescendoed.

He had expected some giant Guardian to appear, some massive flash heralding a dragon or something… but instead, the empty air felt almost anticipatory.

Then, the sky lit up and the air shrieked as shockwaves ripped across Yudaril and the surrounding area.

Nanashi let out a low whistle.

“Man, this shit is really jumping up to eleven.”

Chapter Text

Trent walked amid the ruins of Yudaril, ignoring the various rough looking men and women running down or tying up the Chess they had been fighting. At his side, a grim-faced Babbo bounced along, his eyes darting about.

Eventually reaching the bandit leader, the Canadian grunted, “I took out a… I forget if it was a Bishop or a Rook. But they’re gone now.”

"Yeah, I noticed." He said as he lifted his bandana slightly up, showing one of his eyes in full, a baby blue that stared right into him. "Hard not to."

Trent shrugged even as Babbo shivered. “Form Three is a Hell of a drug. As for the fallout… well, there’s not much left where I encountered it.”

"I figured, those Chess bastards are pretty thorough." The man replied as he glanced away.

“Yeah, no, that was more Form Three, I meant,” Trent said, looking away. “Kind of dusted everything around the thing.”

The other blond hummed in reply, before the two saw more people appearing, Alviss, accompanied by a few guardsmen, along with Alphonse who was-

“Jesus Christ!” Trent hollered, as the Mexican was covered in blood and viscera.

"What?" Alphonse replied nonchalantly as he looked over at Trent.

“Dude, you’re fucking covered in blood and gore,” the blond pointed out, his mouth hanging open in horror.

"Well…" Alphonse raised a hand and let it drop with a sigh, "It was messy and there was no way and no time to clean up. People needed the water and clean cloth more than I do."

“I…” Trent trailed off and looked down at Babbo, the Ärm returned the look. “Do you want me to use Telos Kosmou as a water cannon?”

Alphonse let out a howl of laughter. 

"Just point it away from the ruins and tell people not to drink it."

Babbo hopped up and turned into the cannon form of Telos Kosmou, the blond grabbing it and taking aim. “Get scrubbed, nerd.” He then unleashed a geyser of water from the cannon, blasting Alphonse with the entire load. After a few moments, he cut off the blast, leaving a drenched but no longer bloodstained Alphonse standing in front of him.

“Better?”

Dripping with water like a wet dog Alphonse raised a finger and asked, "Can I also get a blowie?"

“Just for you, I’ll break wind,” Trent retorted, and the Telos Kosmou clicked, unleashing a hurricane blast in Alphonse’s face, the bracing air slapping against him and pulling back his cheeks. “Excuse me,” he said as he finished.

"Thank you papa." Alphonse laughed.

Having already directed the guardsmen to do other things, Alviss looked at the pair in disdain, but he was cut off by the bandit leader just laughing his ass off at the whole scene.

Moments later, there was another flash, and more people appeared. This time, though, where only three people had departed, six returned. Johan, Snow, and Edward were accompanied by three people unfamiliar to those gathered: an older man, a younger man, and a young woman.

Trent looked them over, and nodded. “At least I don’t have to powerwash you, Johan.”

"C'mon, that shit's fun. It's why there's sims of it." Alphonse joked as he glanced over at the Canadian, but then refocused back onto Johan's group, "So? Who are the new arrivals?"

Johan scratched the back of his head. “Hm. Defectors would be the best descriptor, I suppose? When we arrived, I noticed that they were deliberately refraining from killing or permanently hurting people and were just breaking shit, so we kicked their asses, took their Ärms, and brought ‘em with.”

“Fair enough,” Trent said with a nod. “I annihilated an evil clown creature.”

"And I killed a fat lady with the Dragonslayer and stole it from her." Alphonse said as he lifted a hand and showed off a ring with a face on one of his fingers.

“Very fun,” Trent said.

“A decent Ärm,” Dorothy remarked as she slowly descended from the sky. “As for the others, I’d need to see them to see how useful they are to determine their value.”

“Right, sure.” Johan replied, opening his pouch and spilling out into his hands eleven rings, one bracelet, and one pendant.

The pink-haired witch hummed. “Pretty boring, the only interesting thing is the number, I guess.” She looked up at the trio, and said, “You guys’re small fry, huh?”

Leno, the younger man, bristled slightly, but his reaction was overshadowed by his father’s…who promptly burst out laughing. “You’re not wrong, lady! Especially if the ‘evil clown creature’ that young lad mentioned is who I think it was; we’re definitely nothing special compared to that crazy little monster.” His face sobered as he turned toward Trent. “And on that note, if it was Girom you dealt with, I should probably tell you: his sister is even worse, and a Knight to boot. She’ll be after you when she finds out.”

“Well, the little creature did mention a Knight-sister, so that rounds that out,” Trent declared with a shrug. “And if need be, we’ll introduce her to Form Three as well.”

“Please do not plan all our encounters around that form,” Babbo moaned, his expression twisting painfully. “It’s so… crude and unrefined! Indiscriminate as well!”

Alviss pinched the bridge of his nose before shaking his head.

"Great. Fantastic ." The boy said as he groaned. "So now we have a Knight after us. I only hope she's so mad she decides to come at us with no support."

“Well, Rapunzel is enough of a crazy bitch that she might…” Garon replied thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

“If push comes to shove, we have Form Three,” Trent declared sagely, nodding firmly. “Or, Form One, depending on what she does.”

“Please, Form One, I am quite fond of it. It’s appropriately regal and classy for a gentleman such as myself,” Babbo pleaded.

Trent shrugged, and looked over the group. “Either way, hopefully, we’ll perdunkle her.”

"Hopefully." Alviss out a frustrated breath. "Whatever. Let's just clear up everything we need to clear up quickly. First of all." He pointed at the man with the bandana. "Who the hell are you? I'm guessing you're with Luberia."

"Ye p ." The man replied as he popped the last letter. "I'm the boss of Luberia even! Everyone calls me Nanashi."

“Wait, you’re named ‘Nameless’?” Johan asked, one eyebrow arched.

"Wait, that's what it means?!" Nameless replied, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. "What sort of sick bastard would ever do this to me!?"

One of the bandits called out from the distance. "You know, we could stop and call you something else if you want, boss!"

"Meh, I like my name, it's mine." Nanashi shrugged his shoulder and shooed his flunky away.

"Right." Alviss rolled his eyes. "Why are you even helping, actually?"

"Chess are assholes." Nanashi replied matter of factly. "We're bandits and all, but hey, we can't do a whole lot of banditry if everyone is dead and everything gets ransacked or burnt. Oh, they also killed some of my guys, so they're free game." 

“Fair reasoning,” Trent said, shrugging slowly. “Probably a stronger reason than some of us.”

"We'll take what we can get, I guess." Alviss shook his head, he then looked over at the trio that Johan had brought over. "As for you three…defectors, then?"

Garon nodded. “All I care about is keeping my kids safe; only reason I was with the Chess to begin with. Now that we lost, we’re as good as dead to them, and Johan seemed like a decent sort, so…” He trailed off, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Well, that's good enough, I suppose." Alviss said with a shrug. "You yourself admitted that you're kind of low on the totem pole, but we'd appreciate it if you could relinquish any information you had before we call the Cross Guard to put you all under protective custody."

Garon frowned. “Actually, about that…Ash, the Knight who was over our squad? He told us…well, he didn’t give us specific details, but he said he knew about some fucked-up stuff that happened to some defectors from the last war—done by some ex-Cross Guard, no less.”

“Wait, Ash?” Johan asked, eyebrows rising. “That’s the guy who summoned me—” he paused, glanced at Alviss before continuing, “—and considering his circumstances…if that’s true, I can see why he’d want to pass that info on.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised to learn the supposed good guys did fucked shit,” Trent grunted, rolling his eyes.

Alviss simply remained quiet, seething internally but not even trying to say or argue anything. Before it could get any worse, Nanashi cut in and made it way worse.

"Oh, I know! We'll put you under Luberia's protective custody!" He said as he clapped his hands and approached the group. "No one touches anyone unless I say so and I am not going to say so, especially with a cute lady involved!"

At that last part Nanashi was almost about to lean towards Pano, but Garon stepped in front of his daughter, crossed his beefy arms, and said, “Don’t even think about it, buster.”

Pano, for her part, whapped her father on the back and complained, “Aw, c’mon! You know I can handle any womanising clown who thinks I’m an easy catch! You don’t have to be so protective, daddy!”

The muscular ex-Bishop’s face crumpled inward into a grimace the likes of which a thousand lemons would’ve induced. “Pano. Sweety. Honey. Please , for the love of everything, never call me that again.”

While Pano was pouting, Nanashi just chimed in, saying "I could be Daddy if you just gave me a chance, m'lady."

Leno made a gagging noise and said, “God, I think I just threw up in my mouth.”

“First time?” Johan said commiseratingly, giving the poor fellow a pat on the shoulder.

"Wait, what's wrong with m'lady? It's all the rage to call chicks that, isn't it?" Nanashi said while seeming genuinely confused.

"Were you born under a rock!?" Alphonse stared at Nanashi in disbelief.

The man just raised his finger for a moment, holding his mouth open for a few seconds before saying. " Maybe. I dunno."

"Alright, enough with the peanut gallery." Alviss cut in angrily, "Whatever. If you don't want to come into protective custody, then you take care of yourselves however you can, but if you have any information about the current attacks or short term plans of the Chess, then please share before you do anything else. "

“As a former Bishop, I wasn’t privy to a whole lot of stuff,” Garon admitted, “but as far as I was told, the plan was to just keep attacking towns for a few days and then once everything was all fucked up, call for another set of War Games to get rid of the rest of the Cross Guard.”

"That matches up with last time." Alviss replied with a nod, though he was frowning deeply. "But wait, have you received more orders to attack other places after the one you were in charge of?"

Garon’s eyes widened, and he dug in his ear before pulling out a small plug, nearly identical to the ones Alviss had handed out to the lads. “No, actually. It’s been totally quiet; I forgot I even had it in.”

“And are there any chances we could use it to listen in on their plans?” Trent inquired.

“Assuming they don’t know I quit and make the mistake of saying them, sure.” Garon replied with a shrug. “I don't know what kind of bullshit Ärms the Knights and Phantom have up their sleeves, so they might know.”

Alviss had been muttering something with his mouth covered by one of his hands, and after a moment, he turned to look at the rest of the group.

"More news: several towns, the castle and the port at Henrihu were under attack while we were busy here, but other than that, there haven't been any further attacks. Were they only going to strike there?"

Garon shook his head. “No, that was just the first wave as far as I was told.” He frowned. “And the second should’ve started already; something’s up.”

"Small blessings, but I think that's…pretty concerning." Alphonse noted as he looked around. "Any ideas of what to do now?"

“Well, what do we know about the Chess’ base and whatnot?” Trent asked, his arms crossed. “If we know where they’re based, we can cut their advance off at the neck.”

“I dunno about their base, but wouldn’t it be smart to follow the trail of Ärms?” Dorothy inquired, her eyes travelling to Alviss and Nanashi.

The discussion continued on, with the group asking questions and making observations, but unknown to them…

Across the sea, far, far to the south from where everyone had been, there was a continent; upon it, one country stood above all others in its scale.

Naught but ruins stretched across it, the townsfolk both in the frontier towns and those closest to its capital city had been left in a state beyond what words could express. Even years after the last war with the Chess Pieces, it had been left well alone. None of the neighbouring countries had annexed its territories. Attempts were made, but the settlers lost their nerve.

The Kingdom of Lestava. A ghost country, left to ruin by the Chess. 

The Kingdom of Lestava. Home to the Chess.

Deep within the halls of Lestava Castle, laughter echoed. Raucous, throaty laughter echoed through them. A single man laughed hard enough to shake an entire room, he and two others were present. 

The first was a man with straw blonde hair, with a corpse-like complexion, wearing a pointed hat without a brim and a robe, both decorated with white and red triangles at the edges, as well as several pieces of silver jewellery. He smiled widely as he regarded the second person, a tall man wearing a cloak with a hood and mantle that covered him down to his chest, with a skirt-like cloth covering his legs, underneath the cloth he wore a black skinsuit, and on his wrists and waistline, there were bangles and a metal strip coiling around him, both having runes written upon them. He wore a mask shaped like a human skull, with its mouth open, and having a tongue sticking out. He stood straight, completely silent.

And finally, there was the man who had been laughing. He was slight and thin, youthful to the point that he barely looked like he was in his mid-teens. His silver hair hung over his sharp, pallid features, his red eyes glaring out at the world. He was clad in a simple, rough tunic, and the most notable thing about him was that his right arm was completely wrapped in cloth, obscuring the limb from view, and bulking it up to a ridiculous degree.

He just laughed his ass off, slamming his clothed arm against a stone throne, shaking the entire room as he did.

"Oh, oh Ash, please, please… " He said as he glanced over at the man with the skull mask. "Tell me, did I catch that right!?"

He moved a hand to the side as a sphere floated in the air, upon its surface, a group of people was reflected and projected onto a wall. It quickly zoomed in on one young man in particular: a brown-haired youth wearing a plain black robe and a satchel. 

“Wait, Ash?” The young man said, his eyebrows rising. “That’s the guy who summoned me—” he paused, glancing at a boy before continuing, “—and considering his circumstances…if that’s true, I can see why he’d want to pass that info on.”

"One more time, one more time!" The man with the clothed arm said while laughing. The scene rewound and the phrase was repeated, sending the man into another laughing fit as he clutched at his stomach.

The corpse-like man looked over at Ash, simply smiling widely as he waited for him to speak while the other man kept dying of laughter.

Though his expression was obscured by his skull mask, the Knight was sweating profusely. After a moment of silence, Ash coughed and replied, “Well. I can't hide my actions in the face of evidence like this, can I? Yeah, I summoned the kid.”

The man kept laughing as he got off his seat and approached Ash. 

"Ash, Ash, Ash… " He placed his uncovered hand atop the man's shoulder "Ash, buddy, pal, friend, what's got you all wound up? C'mon, I'm not gonna chew you out for this, this is great!"

“It…it is?” Ash asked, sounding genuinely baffled, both at his boss’ words and the fact that he was still alive.

"Obviously, so don't get all stiff!" The man said as he circled around to Ash's other side and slapped his back firmly. "C'mon, that's just how you are, that's just how it is! Don't sweat all the little details, yeah?"

Ash, still mentally off-balance, staggered forward with the slap before replying, “Uh…sure, Phantom, if you say so.”

Peta chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “Look on the bright side, Ash. You’ve managed to spice this War Game up wonderfully. ”

Phantom laughed and kept slapping at Ash's back. A moment after, he let out a satisfied sigh.

"Listen, Ash." Phantom smiled as he looked over at him. "I think this is just going to be a really fun thing, and listen, the boy you summoned isn't nearly as fun as the other two, but I see some potential with him, maybe he'll surprise me!"

A dark look crossed the man's face as he continued. "I mean just look at that thespian dark knight guy and what he did with Emokis, that was hilarious! Oh, and what the guy with Babbo did to Girom? Oh, that was gold.  If they're friends, I can only imagine that guy will come up with some fun things. What do you think, Ash?"

In his eyes, Ash could see childish joy. In his eyes, he could see deep malice and a wish for harm upon the world.

A chill went down the Knight’s spine, and he answered truthfully in spite of himself. “Johan…that boy did his best not to show it, but there’s a deep, burning anger in him.”

"Ah, going to be a bit of a late bloomer then? That ought to be fun when it happens." Phantom chuckled.

Ash grimaced behind his mask and refrained from commenting.

Peta laughed again, his voice echoing through Lestava Castle.

“Truly, what a wonderful war it will be!”